By W R Jones
Damn that Erin; trying to drown me is not enough. Now she is messing with my mind. She told me Farrah Fawcett died of rectal cancer. So? Well it short of hints of anal sex. Why? Because rectal cancer rates are much higher for those engaging in anal sex. Oh, my lord!!!! Now I’ve got to worry about cancer of the palm? How am I going to go to my palm reader? It is sooo embarrassing. I can just hear her, “Oh oh, didn’t your mama tell you not to do that? Now your life line leads directly to the chemo room.” And if I don’t go to my palm reader out of embarrassment, how am I to know about my future and to look out for the truck at the school crossing? How the HELL am I supposed to pick the winning lotto number?
On another note for those of you house hunters out there. I stumbled upon what must be the deal of the decade. I read an ad in an art magazine about a fabulous opportunity in Santa Fe. Right down near the art center of old Santa Fe there is a new development. EVERYTHING is taken care of for you. The price is outstandingly affordable at only $130K per unit.
Now get out that magnifying glass for the fine print. For the $130,000 you get a full UNDIVIDED 1/8 owership of a condo. What the hell does that mean? Do you have to go for 1/8 of the year all at once? I think you have to be dumber than 40 water buffalo to buy a timeshare. Get a hotel for Christ’s sake. The following year you can go back if you like or choose a new spot. Oh ya, that’s right you can swap if they happen to have other big dummy timeshare owners somewhere else you want to go. Still, for a monthly sum someone will take care of it for you even on the 7/8s of the year you can’t use it.
Say, can you call it plein air if you took the picture you painted from while you were outside in the raw elements? OK, not fully outside but leaning out the window of that car. It wasn’t a new car.