I have a farm in Africa. . . I actually wish my story was nearly as epic. Nope. I had a house in Wisconsin. Not quite the same ring. But my story - is - well, mine. And though I wasn't raised a poor black child in Mississippi I was raised a fairly poor kid in Winneconne, Wisconsin. EAA was the the BIG event and if you fly planes - yeah I was raised near that awesomeness HEAD bob - peace sign I AM THE SHIT! - and if you didn't, it is close to Green Bay (as in Packers).
My story is as anyone's personal story - personally mine and yet I guess not so - since I did - so often bump into other folks who also bumped into me on their personal journeys. I will not mention their exact names unless they give me permission to talk about them since this is not an act of fiction - but a biography of sorts. I - like Hemingway and Bukowski (yeah like I get to be THAT barfly? wishes are fishes) have met some amazing characters along the way so far and want to make sure that the world basks in their collective coolness. I want to make it known first up that I am a Christian. Note the capital letter. I know. I know. I know - that's not a popular thing these days, to be all Jesus and stuff - but well, geez. I am. So - you collective reader - and I'm pretending that you are so so into me and maybe a little hot on me - cuz really that's how I roll . . So you reader are in for a delicious treat. You get to watch a super self centered - CHRISTIAN - fall from her Holier than THOU perch onto her freaking FACE. Pretty much give God - her personal LORD AND SAVIOR the finger and run. And the cool part is - - this story is not . . .
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment