SIMI-DETACHED

I don’t always make the best decisions. I dunno how wise it is to share these things with every single person on the planet. Then again… Let’s work backwards, chronologically speaking, if you don’t mind. I just moved to California, near LA. I always wanted to visit California and, when I did, I loved it so much I decided to stay. I had decided to visit when I was in the hospital last year. I was finally having my liver removed. Luckily, your liver can grow back. Aint that crazy? No other organ can do that. I guess I got lucky. I had only been out of hospital a couple months when they decided to do that. I was in the hospital for about five months before the year prior fighting the same illness.  I had this bacterium in my liver and it made me very ill. Some bacteria in some water someplace… But, I hadn’t been drinking the water. I had been injecting it. Because before that I was a heroin addict. For many years I was a heroin addict. You ever hear about the homeless...

I hold my farts until I can get to a bathroom. It’s just something I’ve always done. I’ve never found it funny to force acquaintances to listen to, smell or actually feel the velocity+thermodynamics of my bodily gasses. And I don’t understand how having gas can be a source of pride. “Hey, buddy! Can you hear me almost   shitting my pants? I'm a filthy animal.” Comedy gold.  I’m not saying farts can’t be funny. Of course they can. In two dimensions they can be funny. That third dimension, where you are in the room with me… So, the next time you are hanging out with your bros (refer to handbook for value in relation to hos), and you feel a little bubbly in-your-testines, just remember, some people carry knives. Play it speedy and slack with your B-hole and you might get cut, Booger Presley.  If yer dog growls at somebody, apologize! If it bites (they smell it), well, that’s an unprovoked gas attack. Biological warfare. And that shit gets answered, son.