Small packages

Small packages

Cigarettes are never as fun as you think they’ll be when you light one up. Nothing but disappointment in a small package.

The full moon split the tree tops and I sat on the back patio facing the moonlight. I found her cigarettes where I thought they’d be, in the center of the dashboard. I popped the top of another cold one. It just felt like the thing to do.

The sound of passing semis on I-40, gearing down for the hill, making all kinds of noise. But to the truck drivers, it’s no different from any other hill between where they woke up and where they’re going to sleep. It’s after eleven at night, and they’re not allowed to drive more than nine hours. One wonders, just where could they be going at eleven fifteen pm?

The moon light splashed across the patio, the bricks on which my daughter played. She wouldn’t know I stood here and pissed in the lawn while she was sleeping. Or, so I told myself as I went inside.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmailby feather

About big jonny

The man, the legend. The guy who started it all back in the Year of Our Lord Beer, 2000, with a couple of pages worth of idiotic ranting hardcoded on some random porn site that would host anything you uploaded, a book called HTML for Dummies (which was completely appropriate), a bad attitude (which hasn’t much changed), and a Dell desktop running Win95 with 64 mgs of ram and a six gig hard drive. Those were the days. Then he went to law school. Go figure. Flagstaff, Arizona, USA

9 thoughts on “Small packages

  1. I love to piss outside. I live in Chicago and sometimes piss in my back alley at night while I am out having myself a cigarette. Cigs are never what you are looking for, but still it provides you some kind of mental ease.

    Growing up in the MI, we always had some spot that was worthy of a piss stop. Chicago just makes it more of a challenge and less accepted by those that see you…..I like to pretend I am homeless and drunk.

    Pissin’ in the wind, bettin’ on a losing friend
    Makin’ the same mistakes, we swore we’d never make again
    And we’re pissin’ in the wind, but it’s blowing on all our friends
    We’re gonna sit and grin and tell our grandchildren

  2. I can heartily recommend, ‘How to Shit In The Woods’ (by Kathleen Meyer). Great book, sadly my copy’s all been used up (covers included) as toilet paper, whilst purging responsibly in the great outdoors. Tells you all you need to know about protecting the environment, golden showers and number twos. Nothing beats squatting with a cold one and watching the dawn come up whilst cranking out a container ship’s tow rope…….now that’s real, ‘getting back to nature’…..Sprinkling your shoes in the garden (usually whilst under the influence) is also pretty cool, but purely for lightweights….real men and women do it with a view……

  3. Ahh, the truckers. My pop drove long haul all my life. They drive at night because they don’t get paid by the hour, but by the mile. No traffic, fewer cops.

  4. hey there Red, what’s that in your cigarette pack?
    that’s my other driver, and he’s gonna drive all the way back
    it’s a big black pill, so long and round
    the truckers call it a west coast turnaroud

  5. Truckers can run 11 hours or no more than 14 hours “on duty” and then do a ten hour break . You can get into a 21 hour day it fucks up ypu internal clock but its a living. Fat truckers smoking cigarettes suck.