42 years olde yesterday,
still jobless,
unless this biz idea pans out
vomitting on people for money.

a guy i know is really pissed at his exwife for discovering that his brother was her true soul-mate.
     that's where i come in.
 hes a pretty reasonable chap as you can surmise by the fact that the new lovers are still breathing.
 hes thinking about the kids i guess. being practical.

the love-birds have a favorite restaurant.
I have a trick esophagus.
its a gift. as a young lad i hated cheerios.
and i hated being told what to do.

to teach my hardworking mother a lesson,
i taught myself to puke,
venting my cereal dis-approval in the strongest possible terms.
she started buying Wheaties, and an industry was created 35 years later, when i had NO money NO hope and nothing but a outdated skill set in an increasingly technological workplace.

im thinking carapaccio, squid and some roasted greens in EXTRA garlic with a bottle of red wine.
hes paying for dinner, plus my fee. my guaruntee is that i will hit both of them with a spume of half digested nastiness and ruin their evening. her birthday. a quart of chocolate milk before dinner will curdle nicely in my stomach and add that sour smell to the mix.

hey, at least i ain't robbing people.