anything

so, this morning I wake up an hour before my alarm goes off.

thirty minutes later i wake up to someone shouting my name, walking into my room. i'm not sure how long it took my slowed brain to figure out what was going on, but i'm pretty sure i got under the covers before his cheeks turned red.

"yeah, go ahead and check the paint outside the house. why do you have a key?"

while on my daily bike commute, a beautiful redhead noticed that i was staring back at her, and smiled really big. fucking max schedule.

i get on the max right as the lion's club meeting lets out, so i'm quickly joined by a marauding troupe of septegenarians on Rascals (motorized wheelchairs for people who don't need them, they are just lazy). The entire time they are cracking each other up, and considering they filled the car, it was an overpowering amount of linament and laughter. i've never heard so many references to andy griffith and rodney dangerfield compacted into one heaving mass of wrinkles.

on the way home, i refused to give a bum change and he called me elvis. i'd never flipped a hobo off before that point in my life. it felt good. real good. i might just shorten my reponse to all bums.