I lost a piece of me today.

I lost a piece of me today: my rubber purple bracelet to which hung on a lone blue house key.  When I was drinking two beers I lost my house keys so often, every body in the city had a spare.  So I came up with a bracelet to hold the key, and today, like a hero I went and lost both when I went swimming at the YMCA.  I also liked to use the purple bracelet to match my socks sometimes—you know, the unorthadox this matches that, my love.  Sometimes when I was high I'd stalk my ex's parents and cousins on fb hoping she'd hidden a picture for me, and there was one picture with her kissing a baby and there was something purple on her wrist, and I said, you old dog, you still got it. I didn't really say that; I was a zombie.  I went swimming today on impulse, because it's hot outside, and playtime is dead.  I'm a human being and I care about my health.  It's important I keep saying playtime is dead.  I thought at the pool it would be like Mr. Bean losing his trunks in front those kids.  Instead, in the locker room, it was: the older the man, and the bigger the member, the longer he puts it on display for everybody.  Some of us clap—a lot of us just cheer.  I was checking my figure and my spots in the mirror while twisting the water out from my trunks into the sink and this old man put one leg onto the sink and started drying under his thighs next to me. That's a fine specimen—ow! Watch it with that thing.  That man was naked the whole time I was in the building.

marlboro black

for when you take a good shit