I went for a little run around the “neighborhood”.
Since most of you are not familiar with my neighborhood… let me familiarize you with it. We live on a hill. What goes down…. must come up. It’s practically ALL UPHILL.
Also, we live outside the city limits – amongst the bunnies, raccoons, blackberry bushes, coyotes and a great deal of dirt. We even have a man who walks his pet goat.
I am not speaking in euphemisms. Goat walker, fa realz.
There is one section of the “block” where I must run along a good deal of two-lane traffic… a thoroughfare of sorts connecting two towns. At one corner… stands a man. In rain, snow, sleet. He stands at the corner.
Not the goat walker, a totally different person… but really… DOES IT MATTER?
Our corner-stander looks a lot like this guy, but less groomed:
I call him “Old Man Kitsap”. This man stands and holds a sign-of-somesort… flips off the lawmen when they drive by… I rarely wave to this warm soul when I drive by him – no less that 3-6 times a day.
Word on the street is he likes to tell people where to get the weed and curse the gub’ment. This ol’ feller makes this mama feel a bit protective… suspicious… and hitherhencetofore – I don’t feel too bad not waving.
As luck would have it, Old Man Kitsap was standing in his usual spot when I went for my run.
As I appraoched the corner I made sure my earbuds were securely in. My head… down.
Through my music I hear him, “Butts”.
I thought… “HE BETTER NOT BE TRYIN’ TO TELL ME WHERE TO BUY THE WEED! THE WRATH OF MAMA WILL COME DOWN, YA’LLS!!!”
I pulled out an earbud and said, “I’m sorry. I missed that…”
I was just saying I don’t mean to offend… but your butt… It’s nice. It’s a small butt. I don’t see too many small butts in this county and it’s very nice to see… Very. Nice. Butt.”
ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!!
ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!!
And… I swear, he either gave me a half-salute or tipped an imaginary hat.
*ba dum bum*
#1 – Why can’t our local, scruffy, anti-government guy look more like, say…
I could totally do something with that!
The compliment, people. Why do you have to be so dirty?
Aaaaannd #2… I don’t have a #2 at this point.
Since I am Jenny On the Spot… I told Old Man Kitsap what was on MY mind,
I… uh… no…
and I kept running…
That hill? I was planning to mostly walk, butt… I mean BUT… I ran half-way up before my heart threatened to attack. It’s a LONG hill.
{Waits for praise and kudos}
I told my husband what happened. What did HE have to say?
Well, I never thought I’d ever have anything in common with THAT guy. He’s right. You do have a nice butt.
Men.
I could totally post a picture of my butt next to my friend Sara’s butt… it would totally disprove Old Man Kitsap’s claim.
But I won’t.
I’m not going to add anything other than 2 final simple observations:
- someone may or may not have been hittin’ that hookah pipe too hard on the day of my run
- and… one star may or may not be bigger than the other…
I’m no mathematician, butt…
photos: marler blog, video game movie casting, my friend sara’s wide angle lens (it HAD to be a wide angled lens…. please tell me it was a wide angled lens!!!
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