Fiction

As is

By: Alan Berger

I could say that the reason I wear full upper dentures is because of my years as a boxer.
Or, as I was doing 120 on Sunset Blvd, that I swerved as to not hit a baby bird and went though the windshield.
Or, in my years in The NHL, NFL, and WWE, took its toll at my teeth booth.
But that would be bullshit.
Poor hygiene, but they are as white as white can be.
They are so strait and white that they look phony, and that’s the way I like it, uh huh.

I would to say that my time in prison was because I was P.O.W.
That would another lie. Bad company working in a bad company was more like it. No, not like, that was it.

I would love to say that my lower than Whale Shit credit rating is because I financed a dear friends heart operation with all my credit cards. That would be a load of Horse Shit. It was because I had to do my own two flopped like a, flounder movies, with my own money.
If I ever get arrested for domestic violence, I would argue that I live alone.
The reason I have pockmarks on my face is not because I ran into a burning building to save orphans although I have alluded to that.

And what’s this I hear about my car and that a man of a certain age should have better.
I’d like to say that it’s my daughter’s car and I loaned her my Jaguar, so she could take my Grandkids to a birthday party in style, that would be misleading as this car is mine for the last 18 years and 2 oil changes.
It’s incredibly thrilling to be at a smart dinner party and drop, ”I went to Harvard”, Yet, I must say I went to public schools. Public Toilet schools.
But.
My body, my heart, my hair, and my brain are working out and looking good So.
Having said that. I have at this point, must be honest with you.
You’re going to have to take me, as is.

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Categories: Fiction

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