Excerpt from The Official History of Tomorrow’s Dream pages 87-89

June 22, 2012

NOTE: This is an excerpt from the book I wrote way back in January  2018 and published in May 2020.

Excerpt from The Official History of Tomorrow’s Dream page 87-89

How Jocko and his teamster pal Buck got over the scrap of indigo blow snort gavel, only a real scientist will tell. Examine them closely and you would never know they were table beef survivors. The tracking devices made them look cool and even lowered their temperatures but they were being watched. Every skip and jump over the sand dunes were known by Kaydick Industries.

“Jocko self serving through production of self right bbbbBuck?” Jocko asked with unquestionable certainty.

“Aww knock it off Jocks. We’ve been through this before. These feelings of inadequacy will pass. Drink this.”

Buck passed the chuckle juice to Jocko knowing it would calm him down and in turn calm them both down. Jocko took several swigs and starred into the several sunned blurry sky wishing he were still a civilian and not a runaway ex table beef. The Agency had no use for them but Kaydick Industries followed their moves for the fun of it more than any business matters at hand.

“Feel better now?” Buck asked.

“Yeah. I feel so inspired. Can I piggy back now?”

“You know you’re too heavy but if you need human contact I can ride you. Just remember last time I rode you. You tore a few stitches.”

“It’s ok. Ride me. Ride me.”

The temperature was rising near 1,046 degrees porfeos. Dry heat that humps your glands like a reptile. If you’ve ever been humped by a reptile then you know. They had no choice in a life situation like this but to keep moving. The other side of desert is the town of Gointhaw. They would be safe for a while there. One would think with a population of 456,890 they could get away and not be seen despite the high tech tracking system.

 

Meanwhile Ralph was helping me with my own problems. The center of my scrotum was unnerved during the last explosion. I needed Ralph’s strong hands to reach inside and “pull the strings” as the motthoppers called it in my day. Not sure of the proper medical procedure’s name. Ralph wasn’t medical. He was physical for sure. He stuck his hands right up in there, you see. And wiggled each finger one at a time until he saw my fantastic grin reaching each ear almost. Chagrin. Ouuuther.

“Thanks. I needed that.” I said.

“Uppers yup. For you I can do fritterpops. Wholesale style. Ya know.” Ralph said.

Now my only agenda was to take photo options for the Agency. They remote wired me for the mission. My brain would freeze as they send a signal telling me when to click the device resembling absolutely nothing like a camera or visual recording device. It was built into my forehead like a third eye yet invisible to the eye. It was under my skin yet the 3 kolopuy length and width lens could actually see from the far away Agency laboratory. The trigger/button was on the side of my nose and only about .006 Kintopuys. It looked like I was scratching my colossal sized honker.

It was a fairly simple routine besides the brain freeze but the Agency was cautious and paranoid so Ralph was by my side in case I ran into any trouble. In some countries and cultures scratching my nose and staring at someone would be considered rude or a primal way of saying “skitter over lipper”. Even an inactive agent like myself could get quite the head banging and artillery action for that. Ralph is there to break up any potential violence like that and multiple other types. He’s a good zoo, ya know, it’s fun to keep him around. He doesn’t need weapons. I told ya what those hands can do with my “problem”.


Underground Poet’s Society 2012 -More Samples

June 16, 2012

I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately and posting it on a poetry page on Facebook. I’ll be publishing a poetry collection by October or so called  Underground Modern Poets of 2012 collecting various poetry from many diverse people.

Here’s a few samples

Healing — part V
by Art Glib

i am resigned
and
there will always be a place
on the path of
my lifeline
that leads to
the spiral grip of true and
undeniable love
clinching at my heartstrings this day

i reconcile
to denounce sadness
bitterness or hate
seeing them as the impish thieves they are
they are like the anchor on the Edmund Fitzgerald

i have the power to do this-we all do

it was what it was
and we are who we are
i feel the joy on my
face as i
raise your praise to the sky
i feel the heat of
life giving sun
it’s like the way i feel
when i think of the best of us
a place of pristine truth
two souls in a corporation of flesh
a place where i wish you
peace of mind
love
happiness
and an
abundance of good things

bless us
and let no sweeping thoughts
of disdain
corrupt the pure remnants of your smile and laughter
i will not let anger steal those from me
i am not going to risk losing the locket of your memory
that i hold to my breast when you are in my thoughts
good bye
good luck
Godspeed
i love you

sQt 2008

 

Untitled
by Anthony Gray
When everything’s lost
and life seems surreal
When everything crashes
and nothing is real
When sorrow seeps in
and all that you feel
is confusion and madness
How do you deal?

Where will you go?
Where will you go?
When no one is sorry
for nothing they’ve done
Where will you go now?
Where will you run?

Everything dies
and the time will come
when the days grow too short
to mourn every one
When life’s vicious cycle
throws you ‘neath the wheels
and there’s no one to turn to
How do you deal?

Where will you go?
Where will you go?
When no one is sorry
for nothing they’ve done
Where will you go now?
Where will you run?

When it’s all said and done
it’s hard to regret
knowing full well the sun
is determined to set
When smoke in your eyes
can no longer conceal
You just let it mask you
and that’s how you deal.

Where will you go?
Where will you go?
When no one is sorry
for nothing they’ve done
Where will you go now?
Where will you run?

When you’re all alone
and the passion is gone
Can you keep your own head up?
Or where will you run?

OmnImpotence
by KrackPipe Ken

through the gloom
a dreary moon
lay soundless on the sod

a haunting tune
from dead leaves strewn
engirdled brooding god

“if I am naught,”
aghast he thought,
“but smoke and grim façade

“from womb to tomb…
…then only doom…
the deadless treadless trod.”

Little Boy Little Toy
by Jo Hewitt
Men and my pen always a dangerous combination, I’ve gone there before I’ll never be anyone’s whore I feel they never see me as real well you better duck and cover for I’m about to tell you about your own private hell mamma’s boy using women as your toy you’re invited to have a say but not have things your own way 41yrs of age you have a fit a real child’s rage in your childhood room you cause doom and gloom action figures a twin bed what a man you can barely tie your own shoes it’s no wonder it’s not you I choose grow up don’t blow up nonsense lies you spout a never ending fount try again a slave to the children you crave whine away for you I will not pine child in a mans body

 


Excerpt from My First Novel Yellow Socks Confessions of a Non Don Juan

June 4, 2012

An Excerpt from my 2010 novel Yellow Socks- Confessions of a Non Don Juan

 

Skeleton Woman or Things Like Me Don’t Happen To You

 

Christ it happened again. Another notch in my “girls that want to be my friend” belt. It made sense. We were perfect friends and she was real cute too. I kept thinking that I was ok with it. I’d be happy just being a friend again. I keep turning to God for strength to accept my fate as “Friend to all women” that I’m attracted to. My acceptance level seems to be ok. I go to my happy place. I go to my cave. I say the serenity prayer over and over I am sure that I will be ok with this. Yes I will. (no I won’t)

 

Cut to a scene from Fight Club

 

TYLER

Stop it! This is your pain — this is your burning hand. It’s right here! Look at it.

 

JACK

I’m going to my cave. I’m going to my cave to find my power animal!

 

TYLER

No, don’t deal with this the way those dead people do. Come on

!

JACK

I get the point, ok, please!

 

TYLER

No, what you’re feeling is premature enlightenment.

 

Ok. I get the idea. Feel the pain. Feel the hurt. Feel the rejection saturating my heart until I bleed more than just these words all over the place and finger my open sore of a brain as it wants to dwell on her over and over again. Screaming and roaring her name with anger and grief and sometimes a slight relief that it’s done and I know that she will not reject me again unless I go back for more and more or less or a little bite of her cheeseburger and a sip of her Pepsi to tide me over until the next one comes along with better food and spirits for my, for me for. Four scores of seven years itch as I scratch the weathered tired out mongrel of an ego that was left stray years ago in a pound for wayward hearts and letches that can only love and never be loved.

 

The pain of being a friend. A friend. I’ve heard that “Let’s just be friends” millions of times in my life as I gargle a new mouthwash and toothpaste hoping my breath will be the answer to my problem. My problem is as follows: me, myself and I. We altogether are the problem. We want to be loved so bad that we give off the vibe that scares the shit out of women so they just want to be friends. Friends. Friends. I think to myself that will be fine. Friends is ok. It’ll do. I can accept that. Bullshit! Feel the pain I tell myself. Embrace it. the pain is your friend. To hurt is to be alive. I’ve never been so alive. I’m alive. So alive.

 

“Did you ever hear about the skeleton woman?” Morton asked.

 

“Was that a Glam rock band from the seventies?” I ask.

 

“Ha. Ha. Nah. It’s an ancient Indian story. This guy was fishing in the middle of a lake. He was totally into it. He was relaxed. Not a care in the world except catching the next fish. All of a sudden he feels a tug on his line and he yanks it up. A skeleton appears on his line. He doesn’t realize that it’s attached to his line and he gets scared. He starts paddling his boat away from it but it follows him. He still doesn’t realize that it’s attached to his line. He gets out of his boat and runs into the village and he is carrying his fishing rod and the skeleton is still right behind him. He jumps into his Tee Pee and it follows him in. He lies down and tries to hide not looking at it for a while. When he finally turns to look at the skeleton it has changed into the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She is his. The moral of the story is that he was minding his own business doing something he enjoyed and that’s when the right woman came along. In other words when you are not looking for love is when it will find you. ”

 

“I know that but it’s so fucking hard to stay focused on other things without thinking about how much I want to be loved. Fall in love. Ya know?” I responded.

 

“I know. I know.” Morton said.

 

“We’re a generation of men raised by women. I’m wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.” Tyler Durden

 

To purchase click here


Dream Girl Returns as a Lover (Guardian Angel?)

January 17, 2012

I felt her tongue in my mouth and I was the happiest man on earth. To kiss her was a dream come true. My Guardian Angel kissed me.

It started on some sort of shopping spree and she was taking me to different places buying me things and holding my hand and I was confused because she wasn’t in her guardian angle form. Not that she ever is. I call her my guardian angel because she has lead me away from negative situations and helped me out in previous dreams. She is based on a real girl I know in her mid-late 20s that I rarely talk to and see online once in a while. I named her Carmella the first time I wrote about her in a blog titled Dream Girl is my Guardian Angel but her name is Bailey. She won’t read this and if so . . . well I’ll deal with or not then.

So Bailey is taking me to familiar and unfamiliar places and we are happy. I felt the way I used to feel when I was on vacations with previous girlfriends during the courting or just past the courting stage. In the back of my head I was confused. First of all, she has a boyfriend and it seems they’ve been together since high school.  She would rarely give me the time of day in real life. Not to say she was or is a snob. She just never had a reason to talk to me. I’ve admired her from afar. I also didn’t know where were in the dream. It felt like Philadelphia and New York with a touch of San Francisco. Maybe my writing about hanging out with a few girls in San Francisco in my next novel is rubbing off into my dreams.

We ended up kissing on the sidewalk wherever we were. Heavy making out. I felt her tongue hit my tonsils and loved it. I haven’t had a kiss like that in almost 2 years. We hugged and then hurried to our hotel room. In the dream I went with it as if I knew there was a room. I settled in the room and saw her take her clothes off and she came to me again and kissed me wearing her white bra and panties. I was still in shock and thrilled to realize it was a dream. It was more real than being awake. She was dressed again. And I followed her outside to the sidewalk. Her boyfriend was there and she looked at me in a way I knew she was going to give him another goodbye talk. Then she took him into my room at a new house and we were no longer at the hotel.

I let them have their time. I was overall confident that Bailey was mine but still was anxious for him to leave. It reminded me of when I dated a married woman that was separated and the 3 of us hung out. I walked into the living room and it was a combination of a few houses I’ve lived and my aunt and uncle’s house in Michigan. My grandmother was alive and there with aunts and uncles and cousins. My blood relatives and my adopted relatives were all there. I was so distracted by having my fantasy girl, my dream girl after going so long without love I had trouble enjoying my family. Everyone was talking to me. Someone said that I was going to miss my flight home. I thought I was home and Bailey and her boyfriend were in her my bedroom. I felt love in the room but I wanted the love in the bedroom, forgetting Bailey has appeared as my guardian angel in the past.

I thought of her kiss, closed my eyes and smiled. I woke up and it was only 11 pm. I felt happy for some reason even though I never resolved anything in the lucid dream. It will come to me. It always does.

Also read my poem called Guardian Angel Protection


Glen or Mikiko? I was Teenage Asian Girl

February 14, 2011

This is a story I wrote in 2005 and it appears along with other various stories, journals and poetry in my book called Dangers of a Confessional Mind published by LuLu books.

 

Friday, February 04, 2005

 

Glen or Mikiko?

I felt like the dude in Kafka’s Metamorphosis. I awoke this morning on my bed in a different form. I wasn’t a bug or caterpillar or anything like that. I looked down at my tan body and my small frame with shock and terror. As I started my morning ritual of scratching my balls and giving my dick a few quick tugs, I couldn’t find them. I looked down and there was a black mound of hair with a slit between my legs. My chest hair was gone and I had small petite breasts with brownish nipples. I closed my eyes and opened them again. I tried to go back to sleep assuming this was just another nightmare from watching another Katashi Miike movie before I fell asleep. I couldn’t sleep.

 

I sat up on my bed and lit a cigarette with my little thin fingers. I took a few drags and ran to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. My face changed too. My eyes were slanted and brown. My lips were full and my nose was wider and flatter. I ran my fingers through my long black hair. I was looking at a beautiful young Asian girl in the mirror and it was me. I remembered that story I read in National Lampoon magazine when I was thirteen about the guy who woke up one morning and he was girl. I remember wishing it was me. I wanted to feel what it was like to be a woman. I wanted to feel my breasts and vagina and look in the mirror. That was when I was thirteen.

 

I thought about my friend Harry telling me last night that he thinks that our friend Robert should live his life as a woman. I thought of the countless times my friend Kevin has said “If I had a clit, I’d never leave the house.” I thought of how jealous I was that my friend Dave looked really good in drag.

 

Here I am. I’m a  hot young Asian girl. How am I going to explain this to everyone at work. I’ll have to call out. What will I do for money? What will I tell my girlfriend, Stacy? I hope she’ll still love me as girl. I hope she likes Asian girls. I hope my cousins (roommates) don’t want to fuck me. I’m going to have to get a new drivers license. I thought about going to a doctor. I don’t have any insurance. Will anyone believe me? I wonder if my parents will still love me. I don’t have any clothes to wear either.

 

When I fantasized about this as a kid, it was a sexual thing. As an adult, reality is overwhelming me. Sex was the last thing on my mind until I decided to just stay in my room all day with a mirror. I called out from work. They said my voice sounded funny. I said I was really sick and tried to speak in the lowest tone available to my new body. I called Harry first because he was the only one who would actually believe what happened.

 

“You should enjoy it first. Then see how you feel tomorrow and maybe see a doctor.” he said.

 

Ok. That’s what I’ll do. I called Stacy next and told her I need to speak with her as soon as possible.

 

“What’s wrong with your voice?” she asked.

 

“I’m still sick. You’ll see when you get here tonight.”

 

I took care of the immediate. I needed cigarettes. I had to sneak out without my cousin’s seeing me. I put on some pants and a hoody. Neither of which fit. My clothes were double my size now. I walked to the corner store and tried not to draw any attention to myself. It was run by Koreans. The small teenage girl at the register said something to me in Korean. I didn’t understand her.

 

“Sorry. I thought you were Korean.” she said.

 

“I am Italian.” I said. She laughed.

 

I actually had no idea what I was. I mean I know what I was not what I am now. The boy in the back of the store was staring at me. When I looked at him he winked at me. I felt scared and I felt kind of good. I got my cigarettes and a cup of coffee and walked home fast. I went up to my room and avoided my cousins. I lay on my bed and prayed. I was calmer. Ready to accept this. For now anyway.

 

I took off my jeans and hoody and examined my self thoroughly. I relaxed some more. I gently touched myself everywhere. My nipples were more sensitive than ever. My stomach was flat. I touched my vagina and it was wonderful. I’ve never felt anything like it in my whole life. Just the slightest touch on my new clitoris and my body surged with excitement. I felt like I did the first time I ever masturbated. I looked down at my tiny frame. My small breasts. My skinny legs. I watched my hand rub and stroke. Within minutes I exploded in an orgasm better than any I’d felt before. I collapsed and laid there for about five minutes I was ready for more.

 

Wow. I can orgasm over and over. I did. I finally fell asleep from sexual exhaustion. I slept for the next six hours. I awoke with a knock on my bedroom door. It was Stacy. Fuck. I wasn’t ready to tell her. Show her my new body. I was in a panic. I sat up and felt something against my thigh. I looked and it was my penis hanging under my flabby hairy belly. I was myself again. I sighed in relief and lit a cigarette as Stacy walked in my bedroom.

 

“Hey, what did you want to tell me?” she asked.

 

“You wouldn’t believe the dream I just had.”


Yaatjiyleeih Owjladnhab

January 19, 2011


A Christmas Carol Story

December 24, 2010

I’ve been uninspired to write a “holiday” blog today so I am posting something I wrote in 2008.

 

A CHRISTMAS CAROL STORY

 

“Bah Humbug.” I mumbled under my breath to a customer at work the other day when she wished me a Merry Christmas.

 

That’s the way I felt. Bah fucking humbug.

 

I just got dumped a little under a week ago by the latest love of my life, Carol. A had high hopes this Christmas with her. I wanted to be the guy that made her happy this year. Fill her floor under her tree with expensive gifts and fill her empty stocking with even more. Share our hopes, and goals and have the best Christmas ever for both of us.

 

Bah Humbug. Fuck Christmas. I’ve had enough miserable ones to know better. This one will be the same. Crying all alone in front of my computer lonely longing and hoping that there is some fellow suffering soul on the internet to comfort me. That’s how I spent last year.

 

I went to bed last night with that gnawing in my stomach, my head filled with conversation I just I had with Carol and disappointment and hurt in my heart. I’m not sure how long it took me to go to sleep but I think I did for a little bit or I was hallucinating.

 

I heard a knock on the door. I thought it was either my pill filled neighbor or a drunk Patrick once again. I was wrong.

 

I opened the door to see a giant fat man with a full brown beard and long brown hair wearing a snug green dress with motor cycle boots. He looked like me with a beard in drag. An older fatter hairier version of me. He had a chain wrapped around his waist that he dragged into my apartment.

 

“I am the Ghost of Girlfriend past.” he said in a low transvestite type voice of a man trying to sound like a woman as he grabbed my hand and took me into my bedroom.

 

My bedroom had changed. For one thing it was clean and organized for the first time since Belle moved out. It looked exactly the same as it once did when Belle and I were happy together. There were two figures in the bed. I was freaked out. What happened to my room and who were these people in my bed? I thought of the scene in Back To The Future 2 when Marty went back in his house and there was a little black girl in his bed. I knew this was a dream. Right?

 

“This is what it was.” he said.

 

I looked at the couple spooning on the bed and realized that it was me and Belle. I was smiling. So was she. We were happy. I vaguely remembered us being happy.

 

“This is what you left.” he said to me.

 

I did. I dumped her for another. I dumped her out of my craziness. I dumped her when we had so much potential.

 

The fat transvestite waved his hand in front of my face and my head went into a fast montage of happy times I had with Belle. It was the way I’ve heard people with near death experiences describe their life flashing in front of their eyes. Trips to art exhibits, movies, dinners, just laying in bed talking. All the things that Belle and I did together. I felt her. I smelled her. I loved her. I smiled then cried. This was just a dream, right?

 

“Follow me.” the Ghost of Girlfriend Past said as he walked into my living room.

 

The living room looked the same maybe even messier with two people on my couch having sex. It was Carol and I on the long couch. The smiles on our faces were huge. I watched us finish and cuddle afterwards. We were happy.

 

He waved his plump hairy hand in front of my face and another montage flashed before my eyes. Watching movies. Not watching movies. Dinners. Carol and I having long talks on her couch and my couch about life and our future together. Sex on her couch, my couch, our beds. The cuddling. The affection. The look in her eyes when she looked at me and the way it made me feel. Those beautiful eyes. Ahh. Carol. She felt like my first love. As if no other existed. I felt everything all over again at that moment.

 

“Would you like a quicky big guy?” the Ghost of Girlfriend Past broke the spell.

 

I woke up back in my messy room with the covers half on and half off like I always do. I sat up and lit a cigarette and took a piss. I didn’t want to go back to bed after that nightmare.

 

Tap. Tap. Tap. I heard a tapping on the bathroom window that is above the bathtub. It scared the shit out of me. I tried to ignore it and go back to bed. It kept getting louder and more intense. I pulled the covers over my head.

 

I thought of Edgar Allan Poe for some reason.

 

As of someone gently rapping, rapping on my bathroom window. “Tis some visitor,”I muttered “tapping at my bathroom window- Only this, and nothing more.”

 

I got up and went towards the bathroom. The tapping kept coming. I had no idea what to expect. A murderer perhaps? A robber? A bird? I stood in the bathtub and opened the window and it was a small Asian girl on her tippy toes smiling.

 

“Come outside.” she whispered .

 

“What? Who are you?” I asked.

 

“I am Ghost of Girlfriend present. Come outside.”

 

This had to be a dream so I had no problem meeting her outside. She was so small and wore a dress that seemed to best fit a hooker. Tight fitting sequin short dress. She stood there bare foot holding a tiny torch with her tiny left hand.

 

“Look upon me” she said as she grabbed my left hand with her right and we took off into the dark sky. This is what it’s like to fly, I thought. She pointed the torch in each direction we moved.

 

I watched as we flew towards the town of my ex-girlfriend, Jesse in New Jersey. We flew towards her house and landed outside the window.

 

“What am I doing here Ghost? Why have you lead me here?” I asked

 

“Just look inside”

 

I peeked inside her window the way I did when we used to play “peeping Tom” way back when except this time I kept my pants on and she didn’t know that I was looking. Jesse appeared at the window and looked right through me her eyes filled with tears. I was invisible to her. I saw and felt her pain. I wanted to reach out and touch her. Comfort her in some way.

 

“She has been rejected once again just like when you rejected her.” the ghost said to me.

 

I looked at her large greenish brown eyes and started to cry feeling her pain and my own guilt for leaving her.

 

The ghost took me to Pennsylvania next to check up on Belle. As we got close to her house I started to get anxious. I’d never seen her place before. It was a shitty looking apartment in a broken down house. I hyperventilated as we walked right through the door without even opening it to find Belle on her couch painting a landscape in front of the Television. I wasn’t phased that I could walk through doors especially after we were flying. Her place was decorated similarly to the way my apartment was when we lived together except she had more photographs of me of everywhere. Everywhere. Tears filled her wide brown eyes as she took a break from her painting to reflect. It was just as sad of a sigh as seeing Jesse.

 

“Why here?” I asked.

 

“Another heart you broke. She still can’t get over you.” the ghost of girlfriend present said.

 

*poof*

 

We vanished from Belle’s and reappeared in Carol’s house. She was on the phone.

 

“I still really love him. He just wasn’t what I was looking for. He’s a great guy but he wouldn’t have been able to take care of me. He couldn’t fill my needs. I’m tired of settling for guys that won’t be able to take care of my needs and I’m tired of losing incredible friendships because the relationship ends. I want so bad to be his friend and keep the good stuff that we had but I’m afraid he will always want more or not want to be friends with me. ” Carol said on the phone. Her eyes teared slightly.

 

“He makes me happy.” she continued. “I don’t want to get emotionally tangled up with someone that I know I don’t have a future with again. Too bad we can’t still have sex. Ha ha ha” she laughed.

 

“This is your girlfriend present. Or your ex-girlfriend present. This is how she feels and what she wants.” the ghost said.

 

Somehow, hearing her say that she loves me took away the hurt I was feeling. Knowing that she wants me makes me feel better. Hmmm.

 

“You want a happy ending now, Joe?” the hot Asian Ghost of Girlfriend Present asked.

 

“Uh. Well. . . ”

 

I awoke again in my bed. My snoring woke me up this time. I thought about how my snoring really bothered Carol. I looked at the clock and it was 4 am. Am I ever going to get to sleep for the rest of the night? I went to the kitchen and put on the hot water to make some Sleepy Time Tea. Yes, I drink the stuff. It actually works on occasion. I lit another cigarette and sat on the couch. I heard coughing in the dark.

 

I turned on the light and the gagging voice got louder.

 

“Turn off the light. Ah heh. .” the voice cleared her throat. And coughed again

 

I was onto it now. I was onto the tricks of these reappearing ghosts. I turned off the light.

 

“You must be the ghost of Christmas Future. Hi, I’m Rich Hillen Jr.” I said sarcastically.

 

“I know who you are.” said the ghost.

 

I looked close in the darkness and tried to see what she looked like. My eyes were still adjusting but I could swear she looked like Joanna Angel the porn star of such classics as XXXorcist and Re-Penetrator from Burning Angel Video. She was dressed in only black panties and a black bra with black heels. Now I know this is a dream. Right?

 

“Are you . . .?”

 

“Joanna Angel? Yes. This is my part time gig. When I’m not doing anal on film or making appearances at local porno shops I am the Ghost of Girlfriend Future.” she said.

 

This ghost thing is pretty cool. I thought to myself. Yeah, I was real confused as to what message I was getting out of all of this but I got to hang out with a Fat hairy transvestite, an Asian prostitute and a porn star.

 

“Where to now?” I asked.

 

Follow me. We walked outside to a black Lincoln Town car stretch Limousine. I climbed in the back seat with her.

 

“Driver. Take us to the Future of what might have been.” she ordered the driver.

 

The limousine speed off into the night and I got nauseous as we screeched to a halt in front of a mansion. The Mail box read “Hillen Family”.

 

“This is what might have been if you stayed with Carol.”

 

I followed my hot ghost trying not to stare at her firm ass and long legs into the mansion. Her heels clicked the way.

 

There I was. A seventy year old Rich in a wheelchair on a respirator reading comic books when a 58 year old Carol came in screaming. I was bald and wrinkled and over weight. She was still beautiful from the plastic surgery and hair dye but she was really fat.

 

“You just couldn’t accept the break up 30 years ago, could you? You had to guilt me into staying with you having the stupid performance art wedding and having kids that turned out to be fat depressed losers. I wish I never met you, Rich Hillen Jr. I wish you were dead! ” the future Carol screamed.

 

“This is what would have happened if you and Carol had a future together. You thought by making millions of dollars you could make Carol happy. She stayed with you out of guilt after you were crippled in a car accident when you were showing off how fast your completely restored 1982 Delorean could go not long after your first child was born. Your kids grow up with no ambition. No personality. No artistic interest or political interest which disappointed both you and Carol. ” The Ghost of Girlfriend Future said.

 

“Damn. That’s fucked up. Is there more?” I asked.

 

“Just one more thing.” the Ghost of Girlfriend Future porno star kissed me deep with tongue. “Do you want some . . .?”

 

My alarm went off and woke me up. I was exhausted. I could barely get out of bed. Did that really happen? The dreams seemed so real. I’ve never had dreams that picked up where the other one left off before. I made coffee and smoked a bunch of cigarettes while I tired to shake the dreams out of my head. It was just a dream? Right? Either way, what am I supposed to learn from all of this?

 

Well, I have gratitude for what I’ve had. I’ve had some great relationships with some great memories. I’m lucky to have loved and lost than .blah blah blah . . .you know the rest. Although, I’ve caused sadness to some of my ex-girlfriends I managed to leave Carol with some good memories and mutual respect. My visits to the past present and future helped me see this.

 

Through all the pain I feel about Carol dumping me, she was right and we wouldn’t have worked out. I now know that she loves me and loved what we had. That makes me feel good despite the feeling of loss. Loss. I didn’t lose. I gained a friend. Maybe we should still get together for Christmas. Merry Christmas Carol.

 

But I sure do wish I remembered if I did anything sexual with the transvestite, the Asian hooker and the porno star. Maybe they’ll come back as Ghosts of Employers tomorrow night.

 


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