You’ll Prefer My Salami To Your Baloney

The man looks me up and down, takes a step forward and hisses something about my being shy or afraid.

I flash a Cheshire cat grin at him and watch confusion roll across his face. Seconds before he was certain of who he was dealing with, an older, almost middle aged demure fellow.

The kind who won’t push back and will allow you to do whatever you wish to do, except that guy is gone now.

In his place is a guy who just grew two inches and whose expression makes you wonder if he is two slices short of a real sandwich.

“You know what the doc said about those test results? He says I don’t have time to waste upon worrying what might happen. The lack of options provides a man like me with a certain kind of motivation and I didn’t need much to loose the bonds of civility.”

You’ll Prefer My Salami To Your Baloney

I used to drive a ’77 Camaro that I loved. It wasn’t the ’77 Trans AM with the T-top that Burt Reynolds drove in Smokey and the Bandit but it was mine and it was still pretty damn fast.

Fast enough that I only got two tickets driving it or at least I think that was it. Might have been more, been more than a couple of years since I had it.

Cop didn’t show up at court for one of them so that helped…but I digress.


Long ago a woman told me she could take better care of me than everyone else.

During one of 10 million different conversations we had a small difference of opinion and I told her she was entitled to feel that way, even if it meant she was wrong.

That went over as expected and as the words ping ponged between us I said “You’ll prefer my salami to your baloney.”

I remember the intake of air and the pause.

She wanted to be angry and blast me but I had made her laugh. Hard to be angry and laugh at the same time.

I suppose you can blame dad for teaching me that trick but I take responsibility for refining and perfecting it.

It is not ego if you can do it right?


If you are very lucky just as you think you have things under control and heading in a particular direction life will smile upon you.

It will build a rainbow bridge and send a unicorn across it.

You’ll smile and wonder how you got so lucky and then that unicorn will shove his horn so far up your behind you won’t have to worry about cleaning yourself out for a colonoscopy.

I don’t recommend a unicorn enema as there is nothing magical about it but I will let you in on a secret.

Unicorns have barbed horns and a Sitz bath just doesn’t help.

Is It Kind To Wish Mental Illness Upon Another

That is a rhetorical question that I can answer for you.


If you get the right person and they are guilty of the right crimes than wishing mental illness upon them is a great gift.

Give them something where they know they are losing it with the kind of severity that makes it clear to them they’re incapable of stopping it.

There is great joy in watching yourself slide down a hill knowing after you have torn the skin from your leg you are going to go over the side and bounce down a rocky hill.

No worries though, there is a soft cactus to land upon.

Been a very challenging period of time and though there have been many triumphs to crow about I have found myself engaged in battle with the harpies and flying monkeys of Lollipop Land and their cousins the Dumb Dolts Of Dullardville.

One of them wished significant harm upon me and I told him the docs said it is too late. It was an unkind response but I used the excuse, “they came at me first” and did my best to finish it.

Truth is I engaged for a bit and left not knowing whether my attempt to bludgeon compassion and common sense into them was effective.

The last I saw was “you need help.”

Don’t we all.

Willie Wishes He Was A Wilner

Someone asked me to say something that would make them remember me and I said old Willie Shakespeare wishes he was a Wilner.

I said I am the Bishop of Bullfrog, former number one enemy of Cleveland and Captain of Combustion.

“Captain of Combustion? Are you a fireman?”

“Yeah, I set hearts on fire and dance in the flames or is it set pants on fire. Who can remember.”

“I don’t know whether to think of you as clever or odd.”

“That is ok, I don’t think of you at all.”

“That is kind of rude. You might owe me an apology.”

“You think about whether I do or not and let me know when you figure it out. I have slipped the bonds of society and am running with the moon. There is no cure and no help.”


That might have been the night they said I was mad and the time I responded “only dogs are mad, I am angry.”

They didn’t bother to ask why I am angry and I didn’t bother to ask to explain.

No time for that.

If you love me you have to do so unconditionally or set me free. If you hate me, well let’s see how you feel after you eat a plate of my special brownies.

If you are ambivalent you are among the majority of the world who haven’t a clue who I am and what I am about.

And that is ok, why should you know more.

Got to run now, the abyss and I are due for a conversation and we wouldn’t want to keep it waiting.

(Visited 44 times, 1 visits today)


Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Please enter an e-mail address

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

You may also like
%d bloggers like this: