You Must Be Impotent

The man looked at me and said with as much as disgust as his Neanderthal like brain could muster that I probably am not well endowed and or in need of medical assistance.

I thanked him for his astute observation and asked him if he understood how emasculating it is to require a tiny blue pill when you once held the title of “the world’s strongest penis.”

His eyes opened wider, face scrunched up and head twisted providing me with an opportunity to launch into a crazy tale of the things I could no longer do with my best friend.

“You know how much work it takes to earn the title and how quickly you can lose it. I never wanted to become the next Flaccid Fred, but I had to push things. I had to find out if I could survive Chainsaw Kathy.”

He stared at me and tried to remember what he had been saying and why but instead of the insult he tried to run because he didn’t want to hear about You Rock Urology and how they used three common dry cleaning wire hangers to try and fix what was broken.

“Come back and I’ll tell you more about just how impotent I am and how I just wrecked you with two minutes of unadulterated bullshit”

Ook the Neanderthal either ignored my final comment recognizing it was best to walk away or perhaps didn’t hear me.

I knew it was time to let his imagination rise to the occasion of filling in the blanks instead of allowing my silly remarks to poke holes in it so I let him walk away.

Grab A Beer With Brother Pablo

Drove out to East Texas to meet with a man who chose not to meet with me.

Was grateful for the 130 miles I drove to be stood up and made a point to tell the empty space in the office that I had plans to buy the whole joint and turn it into a ranch for retired urologists.

Left the facility and found a quiet place to change into civvies and made my way back the way I came. “Go West young Joshua, go West!”

I didn’t argue with the voice and followed his instructions because sometimes I am the smartest man I know and I like sleeping in my own bed.

Put in about 75 miles and stopped at a Buc-ees in Terrell to get some gas for the car, coffee and food to gas me up and took advantage of the clean restrooms.

For the third time in two days I was approached by a wingnut who felt obligated to consult with me on something of no importance but this time I wasn’t having any of it.

“Sir, can I speak with you?”

“Sorry, I have to shake the weasel so now isn’t a good time.”

“Shake the weasel?”

“Listen pal, if I don’t take him out of my pants on the regular he gets real angry and you don’t want that. He has a tendency to spit at people and it is the of mess you don’t want any part of.”

That left them with a look of horror and I took the opportunity to do a combination soft shoe and two step over to the restroom.

Can’t decide if the people made way because they were horrified or amazed by my moves, but I know I was like Moses crossing the Red Sea.


I tell Brother Pablo I am getting into Erez Lev Ari and link to a few of his songs and then move to Springsteen.

We tilt a few back, share a few ideas for stories to be written and share a secret or two.

He asks me how I can stand it all and I tell him I heard something tonight that felt like a butter knife was forced in between my ribs and twisted.

“If I can take that, well I can handle the rest.”

“But for how long can you do so without going crazy?”

“That is the secret my friend, I stopped trying to hold onto sanity and slipped into the waters and let them wash across my head. Haven’t drowned yet, so I guess I can keep going.”

Brother Pablo smiled at me and said I had solved the secret of the darkness.

“Not sure solved is the word I would use, but I have figured out how to float and sometimes swim–I know the difference between important and impotent and that is enough.”

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