I'll just tell the story here. So, I am walking around the neighborhood on Sunday about 3pm. I am crossing Myra at Effie, now I am being one of those annoying types that crosses at an intersection with no crosswalk. I would happily walk to the nearest crosswalk if it wasn't super far away. Plus, I was all pissy over the "Junction" and all of the interlopers. So I start crossing the street when this car (that I didn't really get in the way of) honks it's horn and someone yells "get out of the road asshole!". I take a look at the dude who yelled at me. Turns out it is a carload of dudes. The ones I could see all had their shirts off and looked like they might actually drink baby oil to sweat "sheen maintenance". Who drives around with other dudes with their shirts off? That is some fuckin' gay shit! Even Elton John would be embarrassed at that behavior. Anyway, I yelled back "get out of my neighborhood, asshole!". Their car slowed down and for a half second I wondered if I was about to get into a fight with the moving oil slick. Any punch I would have thrown would just glance of them like a old lady slipping on grease, that is if I wasn't blinded by their glistening oil... Before any of that kinda shit could happen a homeless guy on the corner yelled at them "yeah! Get out of the neighborhood, asshole!". He then reached into his shopping cart grabbed a bottle and threw it at the car. The bottle shattered all over their back window, cracking it like a spider web. The dudes in the car sped away under the bridge and I just turned around and started walking. Their were a bunch of motorcycle cops sitting nearby, they saw the whole thing happen and didn't do shit. This all happened in the span of 30 seconds. I felt bad until I realized it wasn't my fault, pedestrians have the right of way, especially at an intersection, even if it doesn't have a crosswalk!
A: The Dirty Ballerina is a collection of words, drawings and meanderings that fell out of my head and onto a page. (In the real life paper version there will be things that fell out of other people's heads sometimes.)
Who is the dirty ballerina?
A: Me.
Why do you get to be THE dirty ballerina? What makes you so special?
A: Because I said so and because that's me in the tutu.
Do you even do ballet?
A: The last time I did ballet was when that picture was taken 22 years ago.
*I'm going to stop here before it gets ugly and say that everyone has a little dirty ballerina inside of them. The next time you pour coffee down the front of your fancy outfit or trip and fall in the mud stop for a minute and look at yourself. Are you laughing? There she is...
Thirty in Thirty
As an assignment to myself and to push myself to learn about deadlines I am writing a blog everyday for thirty days. The only requirement I have is that I cannot blog about blogging. Most of it may be crap but I'm doing it anyway, so there.
Just Remember
My grandma always says, never let the truth get in the way of a good story. I always say, the truth is better than anything you can make up. I also tend to listen to my grandma as she's pretty smart. So, if you pop up, or think you pop up in anything I write you might be right, but then again, you might be wrong. All memory is fiction essentially, right?
7 comments:
You want the homeless guy story, huh?
yes, but that one you did is better commentary.
Are you still with the ninjas?
I'm afraid so. Turns out I make a pretty decent ninja, so now they REALLY don't want me to leave!
I'll just tell the story here.
So, I am walking around the neighborhood on Sunday about 3pm. I am crossing Myra at Effie, now I am being one of those annoying types that crosses at an intersection with no crosswalk. I would happily walk to the nearest crosswalk if it wasn't super far away. Plus, I was all pissy over the "Junction" and all of the interlopers. So I start crossing the street when this car (that I didn't really get in the way of) honks it's horn and someone yells "get out of the road asshole!".
I take a look at the dude who yelled at me. Turns out it is a carload of dudes. The ones I could see all had their shirts off and looked like they might actually drink baby oil to sweat "sheen maintenance". Who drives around with other dudes with their shirts off? That is some fuckin' gay shit! Even Elton John would be embarrassed at that behavior.
Anyway, I yelled back "get out of my neighborhood, asshole!". Their car slowed down and for a half second I wondered if I was about to get into a fight with the moving oil slick. Any punch I would have thrown would just glance of them like a old lady slipping on grease, that is if I wasn't blinded by their glistening oil...
Before any of that kinda shit could happen a homeless guy on the corner yelled at them "yeah! Get out of the neighborhood, asshole!". He then reached into his shopping cart grabbed a bottle and threw it at the car. The bottle shattered all over their back window, cracking it like a spider web.
The dudes in the car sped away under the bridge and I just turned around and started walking. Their were a bunch of motorcycle cops sitting nearby, they saw the whole thing happen and didn't do shit.
This all happened in the span of 30 seconds. I felt bad until I realized it wasn't my fault, pedestrians have the right of way, especially at an intersection, even if it doesn't have a crosswalk!
LOL! I would've given that guy a dollar.
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