I write everyday, sometimes twice. I started this thing called writing when sitting on a bench look out over Santa Monica bay one evening. Pondering my next move, a lobster with the face of Jayne Mansfield popped out of the water. "Hey, why are you sitting here when the whole world is a-spinning on? Get started doing what comes natural!" And then it plopped back under the surface. Sitting there perplexed and in shock, it occured to me to write down what had happened. Then it hit me like a thunderbolt! Should I be writing? There was a noise behind me. Standing there hunched over was one of our less fortunate. As I was being repulsed by this person's overbearing fragrance, we locked eyes. A slight wry smile started to crease the dirt laden cheeks and the head nodded yes as he/she farted! It was a sign! Writing it shall be!
My grandfather had a problem. Well, he had many problems, but one of them was gambling. My mother inherited that from him. She couldn’t inherit anything else. He lost it all gambling.
I’ve made some mistakes, but I’m sure, with some effort, I can repeat most of them.