Monday, July 13, 2009

Made from the best stuff on earth (R)

"Self," I said "you probably shouldn't be carrying all this stuff."

"Naw...I got it." I mean come on, I can multitask with the best of them. It ain't no thang to carry the keys, my giant zebra purse, yogurt, diet snapple, canon rebel xt, mail, and and apple.

Splat. Hiroshima blast of light and fit dannon peach yogurt hits the 99* driveway as traffic zooms by. I stood there roasting in my LAPD blues with sweat rolling down my back noting that the yogurt explosion of 2009 looked slightly like the firework patterns that I watched last weekend.

*Sigh* "Great, hope that didn't get on my uniform pants. I'm already pushing it with the mud on my unshined boots."

Heave-ho into the back seat with the giant dead zebra, camera, and arm-full of night's supplies. "Haha! Not so fast, my pretty!" thought the Diet Snapple bottle that flipped its top as a river of brown liquid cascaded down the leather seats, overflowing onto a pile of paperwork and books, before soaking into the yet-to-be-christened-4-year-old carpet. "Shit!" I screamed as the Best Stuff on Earth (R) cried tears of brewed artifical sweetness that rolled towards the $700 camera just settling into a comfy spot on the scorched leather bench seats in my boyfriend of a SUV.


"Self, you were right. I am not destined to juggle with Barnum or Bailey."

"Tahoe, my love, I'm sorry I leaked on you. I will condition your leather before the week is up to make it all up to you."

"Day, don't make this a pattern. You still have a 12-hour shift to go."

At least my boyfriend smells lemon fresh now.

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