my dad and i had a strange heart to heart to night
(which already, ten minutes afterward, i barely remember)
over a lot, a lot, a lot of margaritas
talking about how he needs to change his life and
his body and i suggested cycling
(which changed mine, most certainly)
and he was one a guy who biked from austin to victoria
(121 miles)
just because he wanted to save gas money
(in college)
so i said i would ride with him
and somehow he gets the gall to ask me that if he changed his life
would i change mine... in the form of shaving my armpits
and all i have to say is
"what the fuck, seriously?"
because i'm drunk
and as far as i'm concerned this has been a change in my life for the better
akin to being a guy with high blood pressure and all sorts of health problems
who seeks to improve his condition
i was once a girl
forced into convention with no outlook who saw beyond that and sought to
rebel with naturalism and honesty
and its never, ever been a problem in my life until now,
sunbathing on the beach in mexico with my family,
who is embarrassed by two strategically placed tufts which mean nothing
but a little extra body odor and
a lot more liberation.
to a certain extent
but certainly more comfortability on my part
and nothing that i intend to change
in the near future
(unless, of course)
(it might shave a few years off of)
(my father's most certainly imminent)
(heart attack)
(((((((((((((oh what to do, what to do?!?!?!))))))))))))
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