by Bradley Alan
You can bet your last nickle I was startled when the nutty grey haired loon sitting across from me on the bus leaned over and wiped her scabby red booger on my shirt. She called me Leroy and told me I deserved it and then twisted her ankle as she hurried off the bus. I proudly wore that booger like a brooch for the rest of the afternoon. It dangled from my breast pocket like a war medal, signifying my ability to cultivate 'crazy' in the most common of conditions. My bus pass doesn’t expire till 2012. I should probably invest in some really good laundry detergent or at least carry a wet nap.
Bradley Alan writes, paints, and otherwise creates beauty in Phoenix, Arizona. He does not play the harmonica or have an ironing board, but he does make amazing Ramen noodles. For a visit to his ridiculous mind, check him out on his blog.