Does anyone else think this man would make an excellent spiritual leader, wacked out on steroids?

Was that a wiggle or a struggle?

Fiction again for You

I live in Boston, if you can call it living. You see I am homeless, and have been since the VA kicked me out of the hospital back in ’99, 8 years ago. I’ve done my time, served Uncle Sam and the powers that be, all I got from it was the rotating door of rehab, outpatient programs, and $600 per month. Maybe because I killed babies, or so they said; maybe because I burned villages, or so they said; or maybe Sam just wanted to forget my generation existed because we were an embarrassment then, and remain so today. However, politics is not what this story is about, oh no.

You see, I saw her sitting on that bench all alone, such a young, proper lady in that business suit, deceived by her crying. Normally I would never approach the elite, or homeowner, but with tears she looked so vulnerable. Plus, it was such a very cold night to be alone, the gossamer smoke billowing from the row houses around the park. So I sat down next to her (even across the snow my footsteps did not crunch, I learned to walk softly and carry an M-16 at some point) and asked her problems. She wiped the tears away and went to leave, but I asked her to stay. Then I told her about my daughter in Ohio, or so I thought. I explained how someday I would see her again and because I was a drunkard, I had the foresight of tattooing the address to my chest. That is not so unbelievable coming from a veteran bum, is it? Instead of dog tags, I used my flesh as steel, just as General Grant told his men to do so long ago at Vicksburg. We talked, and talked, her problems became insignificant in the wake of my flow. "I used to worry I had no shoes until I saw a man with no feet." I love that line. Time grew thin and she had to get home, husband, babies, she’ll look better after a night’s rest, etc….me, I need to get to the shelter, but first a nip.

Cheap whiskey always tastes better on a cold night, a companion that warms the body and soul. The problem is the booze can disorient you, and this happened to me on many occasion. Finding shelter was difficult this evening so I decided on the next best thing, a heating exchange grate from the highrise next door. I need to sleep this off, and at least it will be warm.

Ahhhh morning, wintry Boston mornings are quick to awaken even the most hungover bum, and I have just enough money for a bagel and coffee. As I cross the street I see my date from the night before and smile, she looks busy talking to the police, I hear "her name and address are tattooed to his chest," and I look back to see no footprints in the snow.

Deevolution

Why do men jam their hands down their pants and drink beer while watching college players dribble these?

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Granted I would never trade my man in for another, but come on, you are 39 years old and for the last month (as every year) you relive the four years you spent in an ACC school. Get a grip already, take off the t-shirt and come to bed when I request your presence.

-The Holiest

My First Tag

5 Things not yet in my blog (Thanks for the tag) >:D<
1. I am blonde (but not dumb).
2. I think all vegetarians would rather eat meat. Don’t you think hard core veggies look like ass?
3. I play piano at a fairly high level.
4. I wear contacts and glasses, but not at the same time.
5. I like to say "God, Guns, and Guts made this country, lets keep all three."
5 Tags – Gadfly, kinkyfarmwife, Cherrie, Shay S-spot, Madame X

A Fictional Blurb

He instructed me to write this, and in the same breath told me it would be the last thing I wrote. Encountering such honesty made me seriously consider what to put on paper, as, I assume, it does any condemned person. I have no real possessions so a will is useless. It would seem my time is short and whatever I type should be powerful and succinct, so I’ve decided on a warning.

It started at the mall, where I worked, he brought a Teddy Bear into the shop. It was such an innocent gesture. I flirted, we went to a coffeehouse, my first ever, so smart and refined. In hindsight this should have been a warning, why would an older man want me? His behavior was never improper, always treating me with respect while asking about my life at home. He knew I planned to leave that shelter as soon as I saved enough money and this seemed to impress him. As the weeks passed we grew closer and an offer of a security deposit was tendered. I was flattered, maybe even a bit infatuated. So the day arrived and after the heavy lifting we went to dinner at an upscale restaurant where I was told of a surprise. This is the last thing I remember.

I awoke in a darkened room, naked, chained to a cold steel table. This room was lit by a single lightbulb and he stood over me. Clothed, holding a transparent bag of fluid that bent the light, he explained "this will keep you hydrated, it contains no drugs to dull the senses I wish to access," and a needle slid into my arm. After that he told me the story of David, saying Michelangelo carved this sculpture from a flawed piece of stone, and like David, a masterpiece was hidden inside of me - and he then showed me the scalpel.

Upcoming Fiction

In a few days, after some refinement, I am going to post a piece of fiction. It won't be for everyone (or most), but remember it's just a story.
-The Holiest

Razor

Barbering is an intimate skill and to be correctly done requires some preparation. Towels, clean razors, shave cream, soap, a subject, and hot water - the solvent of life. In a few days I’ll shave his head bald, hairless, clean, and sexy and towel the hot water from it after a good rinse. He always gets frisky after a shave, and I’ll enjoy that too, but not before a drive. It’ll be in the Mercedes, flying down dark country roads with wild, reckless abandon; going nowhere too fast, clutching the steering wheel as the warm spring air ruffles my hair. Alone, I shall cleanse the image of a cancer-ridden little girl that died on my watch, so long ago.