The night was the stormisest fukkin shittiest night on record. Clouds tore at my eyes while razors tossed razor-sharp mmedles like nothing to a giant of a man. oh fuck if you will!!!!!
oceanchum4eva
humbert humbert luvs kamala
fuck all y;all
thug mansion
bite what u can't possibly chew with your rotted off corpses o' teeth. oh sweetum;s, i been sick as fuckoff whiskey. but I'd drink it every day. I get sick as fuck offa parrot bay, but I drank some buttery stuff, and it was delicious.
Oh fuckyeah!!!!!
sinc to the "k" homeboy
sinc to tha muthFUKKIN' K

posted by kenniebloggins at 1:46 AM

Wednesday, June 04, 2003

The deal was sweet but not sweet enough. The old codger had taken me out to the lagoon to explain the details. He had put pen to paper to show me the logistics of the deal he was offereing. He had even opened up his faded brown leather wallet and rolled out hundred dollar bill after hundred until the count had reached into the thousands. His name was Ken and he was an ex-retiree from Arkansas. Building and contracting had long been his game, but in his retirment he had become restless and longed for a new adventure, a journey that happened to force our paths to cross for a rare, memorable moment. He immediately took the stance of a weathered grandfatherly figure as he told me in the parking garage that he had experienced a "late one" the night before. The large motherly hump that pressed against the fabric of his semi-gaudy carribean Jimmy Buffetesque short sleeve button-down top revealed what a late one was like. I smiled tight-lipped and sympathized with a "Yeah, me too" gesture. Ken was my height with a lean (minus the beer belly) build, dyed sandy-hair, slighty shifty eyes revealing that he was privvy to a choice bit of info, and a face that had enjoyed a few too many early afternoons in the Gulf Coast sunshine. He wore grey Haggar dress slacks and black tasselless Aigner loafers similar to the ones owned by my father. Yes indeed, Ken was a wheeler and a dealer if one had ever existed. After giving me his sales treatment in the most straight-forward fashion possible and determining that I, like himself, enjoyed vacationing the sunnier locales our fair globe has to offer, Ken gave me the hard line. "Son," he said, "Deals like these don't come along every day. Do you want to have a mortgage, a deed and an investment when you vacation, or do you want to just give some hotel a credit card and only have a pile of receipts to show after 20 years? Do you want to know what kind of place you'll be staying in, our do you wanna chance it with just any old hotel. I've stayed in many hotels in my day, and I've seen some hotel rooms where I would have been more comfortable staying in a tent. Now, you say that you'll think about it, but this isn't a thinking about it kind of thing. It's a today kind of deal, and if you're not man enough to make the decision right here right now, then you never will be. So, my boy, what'll it be?"
I paused for a moment and looked down at Ken's Aigner loafers. Calmly and confidently I raised my head, and as our eyes met I said, "Well, today my answer is no."
Ken gave me a knowing look and said that we should head back inside. We didn't speak during the uncomfortably long walk back to the lobby of the Majestic Sun beachfront resort.

posted by kenniebloggins at 7:28 PM

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