Crazy Parts

Was strolling under the cedar trees sipping coffee with too much hot coco and thick cream; thinking about all of the good things that I foresee being a reality for the future. Then, over by the summer art space, for some reason, Rodney Dangerfield showed up out of no-where in a mostly red Hawaiian shirt and green/brown plaid small print golf slacks that actually made his butt look smaller with an Amish straw hat and he had let his sideburns grow out. Not exactly like those circa 1973 lamb chops, they were more like he had made a choice between those and his chin while there was still some edge on the shaver that he found behind the Tums in the bathroom cabinet. He told me to follow my rawest wildest unhinged dreams. He said to throw myself into it, don’t think about being polished and to do it up with absolute abandon. He said that the other stuff is alright but those crazy parts are where a person shines.

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