oh I don't mind, I don't mind, uh

My left eyelid had been twitching all day. It was kinda neat at first, a fun little involuntary jiggle, like in high school biology when you made severed frog legs jump with an electrical charge. But it wouldn't stop. I looked in the bathroom mirror and I could barely see the eyelid quivering, but it started to feel like a tiny punching bag.

I pulled out my clippers and shaved my hair into a Mohawk.

It was Sunday, and my best friend called me while he was driving.

"Man, I don't know if it's summer or what, but I've been wanting some strange, dude," he said. "Every chick I see. And especially when, like, Shannon won't give me anal. Man, these -- HEY, WATCH IT ASSHOLE!" I heard him lean on the horn.

"I know what you mean, dude," I said. "When it gets warm, the boobs are out in force. But I think maybe you want some strange because you have a dick and you're a dude and that's billions of years of Darwin at work inside your body. Just ignore it."

My eyelid twitched several times as I looked at my Mohawk at different angles in the bathroom mirror.

"I mean, shit," he said, "especially when I see a girl who works out. I don't really mind how heavy Shannon is until she tries to deny me, and there's all these other hotties pressing on me."

"So how are you two doing?"

"Oh, great, man. You know how it is. Awesome. She's a good girl, dude. What's up with you?"

"Nothin', just gave myself a crooked-ass Mohawk," I said. "That shit is hard to do by yourself."


"Been hitting the gym, too."


"Fuck you. Lemme tell you, man, when your vanity collides with your gluttony, it ain't pretty. That's a never ending battle."

He laughed, almost a cackle. "That needs to be a T-shirt or some shit. Is the Mohawk vanity or gluttony? Sounds more like stupidity." He cackled.

I heard Rage Against the Machine come on his car stereo, and he cranked it up.

"Dude!" he said. "Why does Rage Against the Machine kick so much ass? I listen to their music and I want to crash the car into pedestrians and set something on fire."

"I love that feeling. It makes me want to jump kick people in the face when I hear them."

"Send me a pic of your Mohawk, dude. I want to make it my screensaver. I always need a good laugh at work."

"Yeah, man," I said. "The Mohawk is fucking awesome. Especially now that my left eye has decided to twitch. I look pretty fucking crazy."

My eyelid went into a furious spasm.

"Did you get that e-mail I sent you?" he said.

"Uh, yeah. Don't send me pictures of trannies any more."

He let loose an even louder cackle, like his prank was the funniest prank in the history of pranks, destined for the Prank Hall of Fame as long as he doesn't get busted for doing prank 'roids.

"Hey, man, I know what you like. Just admit it. Anyway, bro, I'm at church so I gotta run in here and be a little holy." He wasn't joking.

My eye twitched once. I waited for another, but nothing. "Aiight, man. Peace."

I went to the bathroom and manicured my Mohawk. My eyelid twitched. I considered shaving the Mohawk round in the front near my forehead with a thin squiggly tail all the way to the back of my neck.


2 x like a billion = how much I love you:

ex tee ex said...

my fucking lower eyelid has been twitching like an epileptic siamese twin for weeks now. It was twitching while I read this. It's like I need to perform an exorcism on it or something.

oh, and I'd like a pic of that crooked ass mohawk please

CBM said...

You need magnesium, Son.


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