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that fuckin’ cat

June 26, 2007

Rudys’ Buick is parked down the street around the corner, and I would never have seen it except for taking a slightly different route on this particular day. I have become a small-time gambler since giving up the shit, and I still appreciate the rushes I get from illicit behaviours. Obviously. When I win, I get somethin for nothin and this I like. When I am losing I hide the losses and get to lie and tell stories about the one that got away and this I like. Whats not to like. I am a sick fuck, but I like it. Anyway, I have become superstitious, and since this is a weird day, I take a different route
So here is Rudy, sitting in a folding chair outside the Bosses’ place, and there is a girl sitting in another chair on his other side. I know it is a girl, because I smell her a half a block away. It smells good.
” Rude, what the fuck”, I ask casually.
Then I see that it is Slats sitting there, smelling good.
” Pooch, how you doin? You know my Fiance, Ann-Marie”? He says this like that fuckin’ cat we all heard about.
” Hello. Paul”, she says. I see she is all cleaned up and got a little meat on her and color in her face. Now I’m shitting on myself.
” Hey…its Ann-Marie…..How you doin…..You two look very comfy-cosy out here”?
” I haven’t been to visit my Uncle in some time….Right, Honey”? That sideways grin, but it is aimed right in Rudys’ direction.

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