he came down El Camino Real

a couple of klicks quicker than the posted

25MPH

and slipped into the righthand lane to make a right at the light which would then let him

to an anticipated left onto the 101

                                                          he slipped in behind a woman driving a towncar

which  as evenings approached and sunlight faded  could be easily be mistaken as a

police patrol car

taking his foot off the accelerator  his glide deceleration and a burning green light would
work in concert and easily take him around the corner in her vast wake
 

she took the right

he curled in behind her

she stomped her brakes

at nothing

and sat dead

in the middle of the street

then her right taillight turnsignal came on

hed almost kissed her ass (enthralled as he was with the beauty of his physics and

momentum)

--   Wha the hell

--   Wheres my patient guy  his girlfriend asked

--   Theres nobody in front of her

he could see a lifted three-quarter-ton red pickup truck sitting at the right at the mouth of a stonestrewn alleyway between two high curbs

the three-quarter-ton gobbled up all the drive into the alleyway

its left directional spasmed but the lane leading up the road they turned onto was filled

with traffic waiting a redlight

however

there was an empty driveway to the left of the truck  to the towncars right  that she

could use

it once provided access to The Muffler Shop that had been out of business almost longer

than it had operated

--   Aw comon Honey

Use the drive  You can make the alley from there

evidently things took considerably longer to matriculate through her brain

 

through the considerable rear windshield he took in the back of her head

--   I think Honeys dyed her hair once too often

--   Now youre being rude

She obviously wants to take the driveway the trucks in

--   And Honey has made out theres no room  so she ought to take the muffler shops 

driveway  It aint trespassing

--   And she has to be a Honey to you

--   Wha the hell  Honeys polite for me  I nearly rearended her and now shes stalling

traffic behind us  Its around the corner and the lights green

Besides
I didnt call her cunt

he felt her head turn and her eyes burn holes into the side of his head

some words simply dont play well with women (and yet he was still wondering what

the words were that would upset him)

I do like Honeycunt though

her voice bordered on incredulity

--   Did you say  Honeycunt

Honeycunt

--   I did

And I got to admit it I really like it

Honeycunt

Sounds delicious

Like a ripe melon

--   Stop!

I kinda like it too

they laughed out loud and then smiled at one another

almost eagerly (and if pushed for an admission  hed allow he moved in his jeans)

and then Honey  or Honeycunt  took the initiative and the right up the driveway onto the

vacated muffler shop property and ran up the alley behind the three-quarter-ton

2304,  Friday,  17  10. 14    

Accused: Fueled on booze

No

Incorrect

Booze had never been a fuel

a high-grade lubricant which kept his fast spinning gears from sparkling friction and 

red overheating

Yes

 

during a good jag  between bouts

he doused himself in cool showers

and that which hamstrung him

staggered  and interrupted him

was when he recognised how he smelled                                                                                    

when he caught a good whiff of himself and uttered
--   Wha the fuck                                                                                                                                  then wanted to hold his breath
 

things entered him

then passed out of him as quickly as they possibly could

he wasnt a safe playground

nothing overstayed or extended its welcome

regardless of his overwhelming  weening generosity 

his arms thrown wide open

evincing warmth  a palpable kindness

though  evidently  his interior wasnt hospitable

inside he was a holy fucking terror

glass bottles toppled onto their sides making lazy turns in games of spin-the-bottle 

that were never to be played

he was unapologetic

a car doesnt whine about its motor oil

And in the overarching hubris of his gluttonous imagination

It  a massive single-celled organism

engorged itself

fondled  with tentacles  its way forward without inconvenience or brook

for all he knew

he may be a dastardly ugly thing riding atop brown or clear oils     or slime

riding a veritable Slip-n-Slide down a green grassy knoll onto a silicate-sparkling 

concrete street

                                                                                                       1604,  Monday,  13  10. 14