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▶  More from Harm City The Man Cave Dark Age
They Call Him Yeti Waters
If He Was Back East they’d Call Him…
Actually, they’d call him, “Drank My Liquor up on Sunday Night!”
That’s right!
Readers might not have known that I’ve been living in Portland, Oregon for the last icy winds of winter and the first warm breath of spring—and if not, that’s okay, because I’m gone from there, gone with some sadness in my echoing heart and lead in my crooked step.
It’s one thing to be appreciated by one’s hosts. But to be able to regress to age 9 every day of the week and play games and pitch quarters—and even go on a nocturnal negro hunt with a ten-year-old understudy—these are gifts of grandparentude that only an active breeder may bestow upon us sterile remnants of a former age.
It takes a big man to invite a twerp into his house, knowing that the old coot is going to bribe his sons with candy bars and burritos and stand there drinking your coffee and grinning while your back-sassing sons say, “But, Dad why do you have to be such a prick and enforce all these bullshit rules? I mean, why can’t you be cool and nice like James LaFond?!”
As a writer, to be able to sit down to my work while an infamous blues guitarist drowned out the death sound effects of his boys’ video game, was an honor, as it was to stand on his porch and watch him walk down the block to relieve a household of partying Air B&B hipsters of their liquor as a tax for “drinking on MY BLOCK” I shit you not!
Well, Big Man, I wish you were here and wish I was there and if the apocalisp ever turns into the apocalypse, I hope I’ll be there to sharpen spears and conduct a hipster-skewering clinic for your worthy man cubs.
Take care and I will hopefully arrive again this year just ahead of the avian-incubated bio-tide.
Thanks, Brother and we will hopefully box drunkenly again in the kitchen at 4:00 A.M. before this dawning age manages to crack open it’s second mortifying eye.
Oh yeah, I forgive you for stealing my negro. Tell Stevedore that he better not show his traitor ass again in Baltimore!
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Add Comment
YetiApril 25, 2020 2:45 PM UTC

May Apollo's arrows of plague strike the hipsters and their pets, and the favor of Zeus give us glory to wet our spears in the blood of those who remain! Their women shall work OUR looms and share OUR beds! I'm honored to call a warrior such as you my friend.
responds:April 27, 2020 12:39 PM UTC

Looms will become more important again sayeth Pimphandamemnon.