Eye of the Crap Storm

Did laundry today at the 'mat on the corner of 32 Pl. and Peoria. I coulda used the machines at my apts. but some things are just more fun away from home. As the rags I call clothes spun in a dryer that had another plan, I went over to the Brook for to drink a little. There she was, I girl I've known on and off for a few years. Even had a little moment once. To protect her anonymity, we'll call her Christie X. Of all the messed up girls I know she is one of them. BUT...she is the only one with her head taped on close to straight. The only one with real guts. The only one who makes blue jeans cry out, "THANK YOU, SWEET GOD!". Actually some of the other girls I know make jeans do that, too, but not there at that moment in my vicinity. We chitty-chatted for a bit then said bye and had little huggie-poos.
I returned to the 'mat and threw my cold, wet rags into a dryer that worked. I then came home and puked out a little more of the story I started a while back. The one about Jesus, boy-whores, and hippos. It kinda gives the story away somewhat but hell, it's my style, bitch...

...Memshar, from under his stately robes produced the much-feared magical weapon. He leveled the sawed-off and let both barrels bark at the moribund mass that was Bufarba. Emptying in a great gush like an above-ground pool hit by a pick-up, Bufarba fell face-first into his own steaming tripe and offal...

More to come...or is there

?