‘How I Survived Porn’
So I’m back now. Yeah I know I’ve been gone for a while. I do things that way sometimes, I mean just kind of check out and see where the road takes me and just when you think I’m a goner I pop up out of nowhere like a little lost runaway on the lam from, well, from whatever the fuck he’s on the lam from. I know I’ve been gone from the page for a while and while I was gone I’ve been everywhere, in my mind at least. Everywhere my mind can take me and that’s pretty far. Sometimes I can be a thousand miles away and never even leave the room. I’ve had to survive by my imagination on many an occasion just to keep from going fucking loony. This past four months has been no exception.
These days I’m still in Chicago dealing with the family business one deals with if we’re lucky enough to get older. You know, hospitals, nursing homes, funeral arrangements the fun shit. The shit we all live for right? It is what it is and what it is, is part of this shit show we call life. As emotionally brutal and spiritually exhausting as it has been to me it means more than you know because no one ever expected me to make it to voting age much less this far. But hey, even though few had little to know faith in my ability to live a long and fruitful life, with good reason I might add, I’m still here doing what I gotta do. I mean when you spend your youthful years crawling through windows not belonging to you, chaotically backing out of dope houses and into waiting getaway cars, cashing checks when you have no known bank accounts and jagging off in a corner of jail cells one can’t expect others to have a whole lot of faith that you’ll grow up to be a competent, responsible human being. Ha, I guess I fooled the fuck out of them didn’t I? Maybe, maybe not, the game ain’t over just yet and the juries still out. I know a few things about juries and the verdict has yet to be rendered. Like I said, it is what it is. I’m just glad to be here to be of service to my family. Yeah the one least likely to survive is the one here to try and keep it all together, at least for a while.
So here I sit in a run down Chinese Laundromat in Chicago’s Northside Uptown neighborhood. You know the kind of Laundromat where you’re just positive that even the little old Asian broads are packing a heavy gat under their skirts and their puny little one eyed poodles probably eat rats out back in the alley for fun. The kind of place filled with a collection of characters from the bearded bi-sexual hipster jagoffs and self-entitled yuppie ilk but still reeking of the good ole days and the foul odor of piss and sweat permeating from the old homeless guys, drunkin’ bums and crazy ex-hooker bag ladies sitting in the corner of the room trying to score some change from unsuspecting college cuties who like to slum it. The same cuties who fearlessly walk the streets alone way past the time of night that they should be. The same ones who call the neighborhood their ‘hood’, that is until they get mugged or in the hallway of their building or worse. Then shit, it’s up and out and back to the middle-of-no-fucking-where Ohio. As much as the neighborhood changes it stays the same. Ignorance as much as anything is a huge contributing factor to the Chicago crime wave. God I love this neighborhood, it can ruin the best of ‘em.
Me, I’m here because it’s a place to do my laundry and what the fuck the least I can have is clean clothes if I’m gonna try and score some ass tonight. Big plans are in the making to hook up with my ex Northshore Jewish girlfriend tonight. That girl whose parents would sooner see me dead than with their daughter even if I did convert which by the way won’t ever happen. I’ll go back to the Catholic church and their pedo priests first and we all know that ain’t gonna happen anytime soon. So I’ll just hang with her and listen her giggle and moan as I subject her to the Catholic crucifix torture, pay back for sending the Guy up the hill at Golgotha, as my crucifix dangles wildly over her B cup like I’m performing an exorcism. I mean shit if I’m going to spend another night alone it may as well be with someone who makes me feel as alone as I make her feel. Sounds romantic huh? Yeah it is…real. But it beats sitting on a bus bench watching Jack ‘n’ Jill walk hand in hand down the street and wondering what it’s like because I seem to have forgotten what it’s like. It’s just another feeling, a thing that’s been lost somewhere in the echos of time. Anyway this particular ex, she’s the one that does the things good Jewish girls just don’t do and that’s the real reason I like her so much. Good as place as any to clean my clothes I s’pose.
Recently someone asked me where it might be headed, life that is. After some serious consideration I responded; life is like a good porn, you get it, you live it, you love it, you get off and you move on to the next one nighter, why did it have to go anywhere? We want it all to feel natural and be so life like and I mean sometimes life just is what it is. Just an endless stream of what-the-fuck-just-happened moments, at least mine has been. That’s the beauty of it, if you just let it go it’ll take you there. But too many people need to be in control of it all. Fuck that, I don’t wanna run shit it’s too much time and effort for little or no payoff. The only place I’m going is where stream of consciousness will take me. Most times we don’t have a clue where a day takes us or where our day is going if it’s even going anywhere at all. Why can’t we just all chill and let life be? Can’t we just live it for the moment? Over the years I’ve learned to let go and live life on life’s terms and in the process I’ve found a way to live my life on my own terms by choice. Now I’m not saying this shit is fool proof but it works for me. For example I work to live not live to work just and it’s surely not because I have to live anyway other than the way I want to.
My only real rules in this life are to live the best I can and not hurt anyone else or myself in the process. That’s it, no big mystery. Life’s too simple to fuck up right? You would think so but every now and then it can be a real bitch. You see, in life we always return to the scene of the crime, the thing that makes us feel so good, the thing that gets us off, kinda like your favorite porno, you always want to fast-forward to the good shit bust one out and move on. But more often than not it doesn’t quite work that way, you have to sit through the shitty parts to get to the hardcore stuff, the fun stuff. That’s life.
Lately it’s like a psychotic ex-girlfriend who just won’t leave you the fuck alone. Yeah that one, we all know the type. That one intent on ruining your fucking life even if she has to commit Hari Kari to do it. That crazy bitch who lays in wait slumped down in her beat up old Buick Electra, you know, the four body truck sized one, in front of your crib waiting to sneak up and chop your balls off for doing her wrong by relieving her of your company. You’re just sure she has a couple of bags of lime and a shovel with your name on it stuffed in her trunk. Exactly where you will end up if you’re not careful to the point of paranoia. She is so blinded by her “I gave up the ass for you” kind hate that she can’t see straight. She surely has no idea the huge favor you did her. Now you’re confronted with the unpleasant possibility that you may have to smoke the bitch when she tries sneaking in your window in the middle of the night and cry burglar! I am sure you’ve met her. I know I have, too many times. One can never be too careful in love and lust.
But hey who ever said life makes any sense. It’s not supposed to make sense, it seldom ever does. It ain’t over ’til the fat lady sings.
(to be cont.)
A Gypsy Road 
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