i was mike's smoothies: a memoir
"i used a speculum," he told me later, "and a spatula."
it was 1985, and god had just made the rounds. i was in my radio flyer and my mother watered our petunias. i say "our" petunias, because i used my tiny fingers to dig in the potting soil.
and all of a sudden it's 1990 and i'm shouting "zero the hero!" and i'm afraid of war and going to war. but i'm only 5 and i don't really know what a war is.
and then, fuckin' A! it's december 31st, 1999 and i'm screaming inside for armageddon or at least something to make things interesting. and i'm watching my computer to see if it will explode. and, unfortunately, it doesn't.
and now it's 2007. and i'm more scared than ever about everything ever ever. i don't remember yesterdays anymore. if my girlfriend asks me what she was wearing on tuesday and now it's thursday then i'm fucked. i don't keep my room clean enough. i can breathe, though.