I ate my ass off in the five and dime but Gina was working the register and no one fucked with me. There was a bag of Cheez Doodles, okay, and a Moon Pie or two or three and a liter of Mr. Burp soda and a package of Halloween ghostcakes and six or seven different kinds of candy bars, all of them containing nuts because crunch crunch crunching is what my teeth do best. The color scheme was pussy pink and puke green and piss yellow. My eyes have seen much glory. On the greeting card aisle the news of the day was Love No Matter What. Yeah, you stole my credit cards and maxed them out, cheated on me with a dancer named Cinnamon and chewed my mama a new asshole when she asked you to take out the garbage because it was starting to stink. Hell, you even ran over my poodle (John Boy Walton) and told me I was an idiot for wanting to have a small funeral in the backyard. I Love You No Matter What. I want to put you in a shopping cart and push you around the big ass store. I want to bump into things, spit gum in your hair, sing you an Elton John ballad, tap dance for you without my underwear on, anything to make you grin and maybe even giggle. Gina told me it was time to turn off the lights and lock the doors. I told her to go ahead. She said okay one last shake of the Magic 8-Ball then we have got to go, Granny is waiting in the car. Granny spoils everything. Goddamn.
Lizzie Prizegarden
Belly Fat Magazine 