Rust

When I was 10, the girl working at Burger King, told me she liked my eyes; that I was going to be a real lady killer. I was offended. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I can’t eat artificial grape anything without gagging and recalling a weekend in high school, where I vomited up purple popcorn and grape Maddog 20/20 out of my nose. There is a right way to make a pizza. I don’t think anyone in America understands that. When asked if I prefer Coke over Pepsi, I said I preferred opium. Growing up, I wanted to be a Jedi knight, I still do, does that mean that I have yet to grow up? I like passive verbs when talking about violence. I like violent verbs when talking about passion. My sense of humor is in direct proportion to my rage. I spent a week riding a greyhound bus, with my one year old, ear-infected, won’t stop crying, son on my lap. I thought about leaving him in a restroom in Tennessee. I never told him that. But, I did tell him I had to beg his mother not abort him.