Monday, Nov. 12, 2001
“I remember quite clearly the first girl I ever kissed. I was very young and inexperienced, no older than 13. No younger than 13 either. In fact, I was 13.
She was a very self-assured woman, slightly older, around 16. She wore confidence like a dress, and she wore her dress like a dress, so it was like she was wearing two dresses, but both matched her rose-colored shoes.
Her hair was long and feathery, golden, not real gold but just blonde, though calling it 'golden' makes it sound more poetic, I like to think. Her lips were fat, naturally so, not like mine that were still fat from that playground fight with the ugly kid a day before. No, her lips were beautiful, like sweet candy wax lips and you wanted to taste but not eat because that would be disgusting.
'Do you want to kiss me?' she asked. I'm no fool, so I told her I did, though I was very nervous.
I could tell she was very reluctant, wearing a shy smile and a twinkling sparkle in her eye as she tried to play all normal about it. And, kiddies, that li'l devil I was, that 13-year-old Sampson L. Hartwig, I leaned in and planted the most fantastic kiss on her lips.
'That's an extra dollar,' she reminded me, but it was worth every penny as she put her clothes back on while I watched to make sure no flatfeet cops were cruising by.”
“First Kiss”
Milestones
the commune's scratch 'n sniff look at last year's office potluck
Opportunities
Pants a Capitalist
Free Virus Baggies
Take a Kitten, Please
the commune book selections
the commune's Bear in Rearview
the commune's Big Book of Duke
Faces of the commune
the commune 100: Leaders and Revolutionaries
the commune 100: Traitors and Noodledicks
FAQ Shwartz |
Site Map's Somewhere in the Glovebox |
Search In Vain |
Contract Ick
Privacy Police |
Terms of Gary Busey |
Reprints & Persimmons |
Press Eject Now
"Penpal"
In my younger days I had a penpal named LeShandy. He was a boy roughly the same age and lived in a faraway place I had never heard of called Iceland.
"Penny Candy"
In my childhood there was a penny-candy store on the corner, run by a rail-thin
immigrant who was constantly in jail when the country was at war.
"Darby"
Uncle Trey had a dog that we all liked a lot, a dog by the name of Darby. He was a
small white dog with wiry hair, I think he was a Jack Russell terrier.
"Vase"
Mom had this vase given to her in Great Aunt Mable's will and she loved it
dearly. It sat on a wooden table in front of our picture window. I think it was from
Japan.
"Mr. Dingle"
I remember in my youth, I had made a mask out of rubber bands and construction
paper. It was a beautiful thing, glittering with sparkles I had glued around the eye
holes.