Neptune is a special place, my friends.
"I am afraid of going bowling on Rosh Hashanah." This was the oft-repeated mantra of my grandmother that I carried with me as I traversed the shit stained streets of the barrio. I never questioned the wisdom of my elders, but as we snuggled under her blanket, watching Lawerence Welk and eating poptarts dunked in nutella, I had to wonder. Was she onto something, or was this the ranting of the damned? She passed wind, excused herself, and sponged off in the corner as I sat dazed and confused...Airwolf would be on soon. And then she'd let me masturbate. Satan whispered to me as I finished. I sobbed the bitter tears of the penitent.
How can I forget her words? “¿Se puede lavar la espalda? Quiero que lo cubra en lino, mi amor.”
Where are my socks? It is windy out today, and I am all alone.