flash fiction

This shit happens only to me

I get out of bed ready to face reality. I walk to the bus station and wait
for the bus and wait and wait. “Where the F is the bus?” Well it is a feast day,
so if already most things are shut with Chineese Virus (except the local Chineese stores here
in the great country of Spain), today at least everything is shut down thanks
to a holiday which I don´t know who the fuck is celebrating, but the holidays name is
Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, there is no double meaning about the virgin and Mary,
although I did have sex with a Mary and I do remember this one was no virgin.
I actually told a friend by phone, ” You could have let me know you A-in the hole!”
Just laughter, so back to the freaking room I rent and start cleaning all day this shit hole.
Back again in the freaking room, and writing weird things. There you go, thank you
Virgin Mary which as Dr. Wikipedia told me she is the mother of Jesus, I´m good with that
since I´m a Catholic, but fuck me it had to be today that absolutely everything is closed
and I woke up with my paint war face? Make it tomorrow or yesterday the holiday, who cares one day later
or sooner, although I might have check this out if I wondered a bit out of the freaking room.
Happy Holiday Virgin Mary. Yes, holiday for you since I´m fucked. Lets sing…. Hallelujah!!

September 11th, A story

Follow my add
You know me
I was getting out of the bathroom we all shared in a New York boarding school
when I heard, “You saw that?!!”….”You fucking saw that?!!” A kid in the t.v
room area was yelling.
Then, literally sent to a freaking bunker under a farm, most of the kids there
where from the five boroughs of New York city. By the way, Manhattan scared
the shit out of me. It was black Friday one day, I go from Queens to Manhattan
in the underground train, I got to Manhattan, how I made it I don´t know
didn´t even know it was the famous black Friday (bad friends), so that would be
in November pretty much a year earlier than 9-11,I step out of the train station
and I´m swarmed by an avalanche of humanity, me thinking ” What the hell is this?”
A young kid I was and scared, to see not only the city but too many
people in one area. Those people,some of them probably died in 9/11 like the relatives
of the other kids I was with in the boarding school. I didn´t even realize
on 9/11 that five days later was my birthday. All the kids calling or trying to receive
calls from relatives but nothing, no communication that day at least. Nobody knew nothing,
my mother later told me that she tried to call and call to the school and nothing.

The moral of the story: Do you remember that day or is just a dream? And with all this
shit going on with Covid I do believe we´ll survive although as tough it is when you
see like on 9/11 people dropping like flies. God bless them. But those who are not dead
we can carry on. Sounds selfish or at the very least detached,(don´t know what´s worst) but it pulls you up,
to be a bit selfish and detached. For me at least, if I´m not I can´t function.
What a freaking story came to mind. I even forgot I was in New York for some years, just came to me.
So now you have to read it and take whatever you want out of it.

Joder! hostia puta

Ttranslation word for word in English- Fuck host bitch. Doesn´t make any sensse in English,
basically what the young man said in Spanish translated to English was ” Fuck what a bitch”.
He works in the supermarket this kid, full of tattoes, and seems very scared of bees. I´m
paying in the register and suddenly I hear those words, the lady in the register is a person
of about 60+ that I have know her since a kid, to me it seems she has always been there, probably.
We hear in Spanish “Joder! hostia puta!” We all turn around to see what´s going on, and this kid
that works in the supermarket is running around, literally running since there was a bee behind him
next to him, hovering over him, now the cashier lady starts yelling at this guy to not curse,
we all in line there laughing our asses off. Then the guy suddenly says, to us all looking at him,
“I´m fucking alergic to bees!” to which I responded “I´m allergic to work”.
More laughs, funny this young guy.
He is the grandson of the cashier so she was very embarrassed telling him to not curse constantly
and apologizing to the customers, just a fun guy this one, hard worker hard partier too, I know him,
But at least he brought us all a laugh cursing and running around the freaking supermarket with his
pet the bee.

My tribute for father

I don´t know if it is a tribute or not,
my way and highway not the smartest.
I got to love this man
it is in me.

Mother.. you know I love you, you literally raised me by yourself

My father, came from real hard situations, to say the least (also you mom)
He overcame each obsticale, and they were plenty. He “made” it to the big leagues,
When I hear his calm voice, once in while and I don´t expect more of him since you don´t
can´t ask “No preguntes peras al olmo” ( English transaltion, don´t ask for more)

Got out off topic, father love you. Nor drunk.. yet, or maybe not, lets let them guessing,

You know you have a crazy son, and putting it in public, even if you a public person, not for me
althoght there is a reason for me writing this.
It might fire out the behind also, but doubt it.

Dad, I have no ” daddy” issues by the way, but this is my way.
Love you, and more important love you for what you do for mom I know the stress you go through,
but never let it see for the outsiders.
Someone…. should tell that story, your working history and the love for mother,
I know you neither mother wants the ins of it, but you disserve that, and it won´t be
from your crazy son, might get someone else… Love you father.
(Actually I think that the word Love just came out now in writing, not while speakind to him)

Love you.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

High voltage stream of consciousness

Send it
What a fucking computer I “smuggled” into the hospital, 15 minutes to get into wordpress
and it seems the Chrome goes faster than the other internet “thing” i yelled bling, and
i got a shitting but what did i expect for a 250$ laptop? Not a great top it seems.So is
hard to keep up with all of you, even the comments i have to keep them short so the computer
do it´s quick matheweter and send the freaking comment. Let alone when your page has a lot
of photos i can spend the whole day looking at the little ball rolling around and round
and round for the page to load. I hate the computer, yet I´m lucky to have one, still pissed.
I hate this hospital, it is a private one and there are too many cool girls with thongs,
nurses included i feel like in a Tom Cruise movie, i have no proofread as you might see while
you read i hat that too.
Hot nurses and doc´s distracts me from my duties as the greatest caretacker maker of my mother.
Good news it seems they probably let her out this Friday and basically made her life a bit longer.
I was already expecting for this to be the last time she entered the hospital and not walk out.
These rich people of the hosptial all have electric cars, every time i go out for a smoke
i´m constantly scared shitless because of one of those electirc shits you can´t hear them at all
to smack me. I hate all these people rich or not rich that are on the phone constantly, i even
saw a 4 year old kid in the lobby waiting with their parents for the elevator to come and him
watching a video on the phone of two teenage girls doing some kind of weird gymnistic things
in a soccer field, what the fuck? Feminist won, you made us a bunch of pussies.
I hate elecrtic cars, I hate people talking outloud on their phones I hate hospitals, I hate..
at leas my mother is still alive which is the important. What a pussy society we have become, I
even hate the hatters so I hate myself and then re think and unhate me, but hate all the others…
So fuck it, read as many as i can of you when this shit can computer goes faster, if ever, whatever,
now it seems it´s going so so so….so i also hate the computer. This was profound, you´re welcome.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

Borderline psycho (flash fiction)

With her shaky hands she started to hit the keyboards of her new Apple computer.
It was 5.a.m and she couldn’t sleep, what happened the night before was eating
at her solace brain. Please no please no she kept repeating to herself,
after a brief moment she got to the front page of google, fuck! she swore
out loud. She went to gmail, enter her password, her heart beating so much it hurt
her ears, sweat started to appear on her forehead, then came the reply from google
Your password is incorrect She got the computer and threw it against
her third apartment window and the new computer felt and felt, down in slow motion she
could see it falling right on top of the head of a passerby who immediately dropped dead.

She rushed down the stairs and there he was lying unconscious,
with no pulse. It was her ex boyfriend Josh dressed in his janitors outfit. She had
called him yesterday only three hundred times, for her that was just a few calls.
She was now trying to reach him through email but had forgotten her password.
Now she finally had reached him.

She stood up, looking over him, though to herself what are the fucking chances of this…
Smiled and waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

anatomy of a drunk post

I had to be more drunk than the proverbial skunk…. Is there a proverbial for that anology?
I just re read this and thought “holy shit” but the worst part is that not in a abnormal matter,
it was a “holy shit” as me saying ” I was fucked up as a drunk skunk
(I´ll stick with the skunk thing) and as always post it for the public”. Also thought….
“yes that was me for sure drunk and writing a real weird thing yet at the same time
it made sense or didn´t, so lets keep the people guessing, or the ones who regular read me know?….”
I figured that people that read me often, or do you hit the LIKE button for what by the way?
I had 12 and a half LIKE´S in half a minute… kind of weird. I really don´t give a shit,
going back to my great drunk post, I thought it was like the empeachment of Trump by the democrats.
In this case was a “creative maneuver”…. so really not a big difference.
That was a good anology.
Just go along and hit Like and say it was great.
Holy…. I even put in there the Trump thing, not my fault by the way,
I do strategically target the American population-market, I´m doing good and no food today by the way.
What the fuck, I didn´t even put the title on the post, it was called Baby For… what a mental process,
or destruction of my one neuron, and on Monday…time to go to work. With mother who needs this idiot
not to write drunk or not to write is the first cut out priority, and needs him with all his senses,
they say people have 5 senses, yet I add another one. How? I do know me, I go from zero to hero.
I just put on my “Smart” cap, and do the fucking job. Not an easy one having been 1 month as a caretaker,
might as well go back to the army in harmony.
You are seeing what is going to be inevitable. Seeing the slow death of your own mother.
I stopped drinking today, so Monday we´ll get back to business in case you cared. Who? What?
That was a great ending to a re-start.
Hey! Anatomy of a drunk post. Remember! That is my legacy.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses and have a great Sunday.

Foot Note.
I don´t know why the writing on the WordPress thing has no limits. In short, I write a sentece.
That was the period before I see the great post published and the sentences spread apart.

The accountant(flash fiction)

He was counting, that was his job.
“Hey Joey!” He screamed.
“2 multiplied by number pie is what?”
Joey had a grin on his fat face,”I guess…Infinite.”
The accountant nodded to himself, his black eyes where now more bright than his dark suit.
Suddenly they heard a loud bang on the door followed by the words FBI and to get down,
the accountant and Fat Joey Salerno got on their bellies.
When they reached the FBI headquarters downtown New York the accountant first words were,
“Fellas, I count the money given to me by decent people.”
The FBI man looked at him and replied, ” decent to help your cronies with the heist?”
“What heist? You got me doing a heist? I count, I´m a simple accountant.”
Two hours later the accountant walked out free while Fat Joey sat in a holding cell,
another day in the job of the accountant, another day free, twenty years at his job
and twenty years of freedom and riches. Nobody knew where the money had gone,so many
accounts in so many banks so many transactions and so much deceit, deceit was the trade of the accountant.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.