The Book Of Mikey

This is the evolution of Mikey as created by the blessing of God. Witness shall be given to those gifts given by god during the course of this evolution. All praise to god.

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Location: the realm of dreams, Pennsylvania, United States

The time has come to live without fear.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

The Chicks of Mikey 1:1

Forever more, All women prior to the blessing that is my wife shall be known as chicks.
This prose is meant to explain them to myself, but not to justify. For in the cases of many of these chicks there is no justification, only action with equal and opposite reaction. and the occasional monetary transaction.
Allow me to introduce a chick I knew, Her name is Rose. She still mingles among us, as a speech therapist no less. I have not set eyes upon her since the darkness of Clinton so my frame of reference only lies within the void of her 5ft frame from her 18th to 20th year, when she was mine, and I, hers in theory.
Due to there closer proximity, I was introduced to Rose's boobs, long before I ever met Rose. I had conversations with Rose's boobs, before I actually spoke to Rose. While she was tepidly reciting Sondheim I communicated with her bountiful breasts from afar.
"Are you able to breathe in there?" I telepathically asked.
"what care we for air", they sang, "we are perky and air serves us not."
A fine reply.
Sadly, this was the most interesting conversation that I would have with Rose or her intriuging parts within the two years we occupied each others spiritual space.
Still, there was regular sex, and at 22, which I was, This was more than enough to keep us in emotional neutral.
Disturbingly, one night Rose confided in me that she was dyslexic. The disturbance arose around a week later when she pointed out that she had lied, that she was not dyslexic, just that she was bad at spelling and she was afraid I would mock her entymogically and so, created the lie.
The trouble continued to brew.
We were engaged, as we understood it, in two months. I bartered for her ring for a collection of 1978 Detroit Tiger baseball cards, these cards did not include the rookie cards of Alan Trammel or Lou Whitaker.
My interest was to achieve some sort of consistent booty as this would assist in honing my intimate skills for later in my adult life.
This truth was foolishly hidden by the idea that I loved Rose. I even said so, and believed it.
I followed the breeze of Rose eastward across the country because my sails were taken that way and I liked the skies in that direction.
Still the trouble began to brew and the storm surge rolled in.
My car was stolen twice within the same month while seeking her favor.(recovered both times)
I was declared homeless for three days while a swill infested, skeeze islandler landlord couldn't meet me to hand over the apartment keys for which I had given him a deposit.
Bill clinton was elected president.
I actually had two other much more bodacious women, with deeper thoughts seek my favor( a first in life at this time) and I didn't see it or acknowledge it.(subconscious avoidance of other booty)
How could I not see the reaper stalking me? These events were bright steps that death and doom were coming my way.
So it cumulated, ON march 31st. 7:54pm. Cool Dr Pepper in hand, and munching on a Swiss Cheese burger at Diane's Uptown in Manhattan. The seventh sign of this experience would be uttered.
Rose spoke, "I think we should see other women."

What should have been a blessing, hung on my head like a full speed body check into the boards.
I could not negotiate my way into this revelation, and I could not save my own access to Rose's booty. The booty I had become accustomed to during the rise of Nirvana and Pearl Jam and fall of Ross Perot and Snow's "Informer".
Sadly, the next day was April 1st, and my circle of friends. used to my mirth, did not believe I had been tossed for the girlie love of another.
On april 2nd, they were more sympathetic.
I was stipped of my regular sex. And I was heartbroken. This led to relevant wisdom.
At the time of breakup, part in peace, go and cry, begin to mourn, because as sure as your heart bleeds and you go back to other business.
She will seek you out for "one last time".
Do not answer this call, advise you're flattered, maybe even a little curious. and leave it at that.
Leave them wanting you, and then when they call you, three, maybe four more times.
Have her pay for a neutral site, pay for your dinner, your drinks, and do her like its the final time, Like a priest is coming to guide you to the electric chair.
When finished, rise, smile, wish her the best.
and leave your booty worshipping in that room as you rejoin a better life..


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