By WR Jones
I saw a young black man at a grocery store today with his pants barely hanging on below the hips and 50% of his underwear showing. He made a small tug on his trousers to hike them up a bit. It did help keep him from tripping over his pant legs I suppose but that was about all. The fact that he was black doesn’t really enter into my observation except as a paragraph filler. This makes it seem I work harder at this writing business.
I looked at him wondering how he chose this particular dress style. He must have seen someone else with his ass hanging out and said to himself, “Wow, that looks cool. I want that look.” This is probably how most of us pick our dress style. I went to a western hat store last week to have my Stetson “Open Road” hat shaped to fit my head better. I bought the hat because I saw an old gentleman with the same hat and thought he looked elegant. I told the woman in the store the reason I had purchased this particular hat and could not understand how I looked like such a buffoon with it on my head. After all, I and the old gentleman were about the same age. How could he look elegant and I look like a common shithead? After reshaping the hat the woman said it looked better. I asked her if I looked elegant now. Damn I hate blunt women. As a business woman you would think she could finesse a little lie.
Another issue:
This painting started out as a still life of a slice of apple pie. I can’t seem to gain control of my compositions; they run amok. At one point I had a dump truck and a miniature giraffe in the foreground when my wife suggested flowers. I followed her suggestion as gospel (a little play on words and illustration) as I was hungry and wanted some dinner. Are there any drugs that will:
1. make me feel very good
2. make it so I don’t have to pee quite so often
3. clamp down on this ADD that jerks me from one subject to another before I get my paints laid out.
