Exposing the seamy underside of Dallas nightlife
Welcome to Flash the 13th. Just like Friday the 13th, but with half the calories. So if
you're superstitious, stay home. But if you're courageous, then walk under a ladder, break
a mirror, kick a black cat, and read on.
Instant Karma's Gonna Get You
Have you ever had a bad day? I mean a REALLY bad day. The kind of day where you get a flat
tire on the way to work. And then it starts raining while you're changing it. And when you
finally do get to work, drenched and filthy, you find out the boss was looking for you,
but because you were busy changing that damn tire in that damn rain, he gave the new
account you've been working on for six months to the asshole in the next cubicle.
The day's going so bad that you decide to go home early. And find your girlfriend in bed
with her personal trainer. Who's a woman. Playing with toys that make you look like Peter
Poppyseed. And they don't ask you to join them.
Well, that would be a gem of a day compared to the one I'm having.
It's times like these that you stare up at the heavens and think; "I've done some
very bad things in my life." Because it's obvious that the karma police have caught
up with me. Not familiar with the karma police? Well, let's just say that what goes
around, comes around. And right now it's coming around like a Mike Tyson left hook.
So, in the interest of cleansing my karma, evening out my yin and yang, and sleeping
better at night, it's time for Flash to go to confession.
Forgive me father for I have sinned. It's been way too long since my last confession.
I have lied, Part I. I have told girls I was going to call them when I didn't 16 times. Of
course, I had every intention of calling when I got the number. Of course, I had five
beers, three margaritas and a tequila shot in me as well. Besides, there were plenty of
times I did call and you didn't call me back. (Penance: One Hail Mary, a Lord's Prayer,
and a new Rolodex.)
I have not rested on the sabbath. Well, not unless you consider sitting on the patio of
the Goose drinking swirls resting. And if it's not resting, it's definitely recuperating.
How else am I supposed to get over the hangover from Saturday? And Friday. And Thursday.
These things add up after three days. (Two Hail Mary's, a Lord's Prayer, and a bottle of
Extra Strength Tylenol.)
I have coveted my neighbor's wife. Basically every time their blinds are open. Well, he's
not really my neighbor. He actually lives across the street. And I think it's just his
girlfriend. Besides, it's really his fault for letting her walk around like that with the
blinds open. (A Hail Mary, three Lord's Prayers, and a new pair of binoculars.)
I have lied, Part II. Okay, okay, I have actually been to 972. But you have to understand,
I have needs and they weren't getting fulfilled in 214. And people do crazy things when
well, pent up. Besides, she comes down here more than I go up there. (Two
Hail Mary's, two Lord's Prayer's, and a DART pass.)
I have taken the Lord's name in vain. I can't remember the number of times because I was
kind of caught up in the moment. How many times can you say "Oh God" in twenty
minutes? Besides, she was saying it even more than me. (Two Hail Mary's, a Lord's Prayer,
and earplugs for my neighbor.)
I have had sex outside of marriage. Not nearly often enough. If I was, do you think I'd be
driving to 972? And if my karma has to be thrown out of whack, why can't this be the main
reason? Even when I'm doing wrong, I'm doing it wrong. (Five Hail Mary's, Five Lord's
Prayer's, and a refund on that 12 pack of Trojans.)
I have lied, Part III. I have told girls that I cared for them six times. I cared, but
mostly about getting in their pants. But it's not like you girls haven't said things you
didn't mean to get us to buy you drinks. Or dinner. Or a diamond ring. Besides, it's not
like it works or anything. Otherwise I'd be having sex outside of marriage more. (Four
Hail Mary's, two Lord's Prayers, and a sensitivity training class.)
I have, uh, well, self-indulged. The number of times isn't important. And don't look at me
like that. You do it too. Everybody does it. Even you girls. And don't even try to tell me
it's a back massager. Besides, I wouldn't need to nearly as often if my neighbors would
shut their blinds. And it would be much worse if I wasn't going to 972 occasionally.
(Three Hail Mary's, a Lord's Prayer, and a subscription to Playboy.)
Well, I don't know about you, but I feel much better. Purged, cleansed, forgiven.
And would you look at that? The couple across the street are fighting and he's moving out.
Maybe things are starting to go my way.
And if not, maybe the new Playboy is here.
As always, the views expressed here don't necessarily reflect the views of anyone else on
the planet, much less US Exposed.
- Flash -