Sunday, May 01, 2005

I ain't gonna lie — I need to get SCREWED, man!

I ain't need to tell you what this is like. There's nothin' in the oven, there's no bread on sale, there', this ain't gonna wind up as no kind of good poem. You know what I mean — I am stone cold in need of some pushin'! It's been too damn long! I don't know how I let my Needliness go unattended for these many months. How did I do this? What the hell is the matter with me? If I want a meal I make a tasty hamburger or I arrange to have one made. If I want a shirt, either Battori Uomo or can provide. Ray got to take a nap? Ray goes to sleep.

I been thinkin' about this, chochachos. It's like a snowball: the longer it rolls, the bigger it gets. In my case, the longer I go without some pushing, the more it's like "why ain't I getting any of that sweet pushing? Is there a problem with me? Maybe I finally got to that age where the women just don't stop by any more! Oh no, man! I'm like George Costanza's dad!"

I got to stop the snowball. Maybe I got to lose some of this winter weight. That would put some spring back in my step and pretty soon I'd be sporting a sick new Fila track suit, open at the collar, chunky old piece on my wrist, just a hint of Gucci Rush around my edges.

Or maybe I shouldn't lose this winter weight. Maybe I'm meant to carry a few extra pounds! It all comes down to confidence. I seen a heavy dude like James Gandolfini just wielding so much power, I oughta explore that route. Ray likes Ray. Ray likes the good life. Ray likes women who appreciate a man who likes the good life. Marlon Brando was extremely heavy.