The Good Stuff

Come back from the show, Little Rick shows up, wants to know where Jenny went, right? Like I fucking keep track of Jenny. He's all over the place, raiding the fridge, trying to give me noise like, oh, I gotta make sure she calls his shit. She ain't gonna call you, Rick.

When he leaves, I see his bag on the table, like, his brown bag. And you know I know what's in the bag, and Little Rick's too stupid to keep a count. So I figure I got thirty seconds to grab what I can.

Two little blues. One goes down, one goes in my pocket. He comes back, gets his bag. I'm like, hey, man, be more careful with that shit. He's like, whatever, man, and he splits.

I lock the front door and hit the couch. Like, half hour later, Jenny's fucking thrift store paintings start changing.


  1. Frighteningly enough, this sounds rather like my real life some 30 years ago.

  2. A slice of dark, gritty, painful life. And too many people exist this way. We were dropped right in the middle of the action - a great place to start. Well done!