Ads For Myself

I woke up to see a pretty woman on top of me with a big gleeful smile on Christmas morning.

I threw her off like a wild horse that refuses to be tamed.

After all, she is married.

The American beauties in New Hampshire seemed to be desperate housewives and eager for exotic New York City dog meat. Other than that in the live free or die state, the town was like Smallville in living color. It’s close to the millions of stars I watched under the winter nights of below zero. Standing in deep snow in the mountains, I wondered if Krypton had a people that passed for Puerto Ricans or Hispanics.

LOL goes without saying.

One sure thing about the town, I could always get a damn good cup of coffee at the diner that made me feel appreciative of life like the FBI agent in Twin Peaks. On that note, I never found out who killed Laura Palmer. And that’s because a crack head stole my TV in New York. Not a bad thing that crime cause now I’m living a real life on the Internet.

 Out here in farmland USA, my mind drifts to a homework assignment on creating a tour book for The South Bronx. Fellow NYU students and teacher looked at me like I was dead man walking. I like to think of myself as The Accidental Tourist meets Mission: Impossible. I was bright enough to instantly come up with The Big Idea:

I’m moving out to greener pastures.

I’ll make Portsmouth, New Hampshire, my new town for my new tour book submitted for your approval. One stand out feature is Portsmouth is pronounced Ports Smith.

I love living in The Twilight Zone.

 Home, surreal home.

Parallel Parking On The Alternate Side Of The Universe

This cyber journal is by Daniel Angel Aponte.