Saturday, January 14, 2012


It was a summer in the late and upper nineties when we were both in our twenties. Large sheets of thick white paper lay on concrete. Charcoal and cigarettes in the warmth of a Mississippi sun. I wanted to capture it, hold on, so I bought the best camera I could. A yellow filter for black and whites because even at the time it felt nostalgic. Like one day we would look back onto that day and realize how great it was.



Anonymous said...

I don't know if you came up with it yourself, i know i have never seen it, but the first sentence is the first sentence of your novel.
"It was a summer in the late and upper nineties when we were both in our twenties."
That beginning line in a book would get me to at least chapter two.


anyway, enough about you. Yesterday, when i got off the phone with you (still somewhat about you i guess, your more of a side note though), I walked into papa john's and ordered two large pizzas (hawaiian and chicken bacon barbecue) and cheesy parmesan breadsticks. The guy said it would be 15 minutes which gave me enough time to go to the liquor store and get two bottles of wine and a bottle of kettle one vodka (the good stuff). if you don't know, i will let you know now, the diet is over.

i returned to the pizza place and as I walk in the guy says "just in time. they are coming out of the oven right now." This is no lie, I see him taking them off the little moving rack and placing them in the box while i am paying the cashier. After a prompt transaction, I carry three boxes of hell fire hot dough and cheese to my car. I place the boxes in the passenger seat and crank the car.

Now in my defense, I have to make you understand where my brain was at this point. It was starved was where it was. Two and a half weeks of eating nothing but small portions of fruits, vegetables and very little protein (basically a complete reversal of meal plan my body had been used to for the past 16 years) had left me and my brain with an animalistic hunger.

I opened the box that contained the chicken and bacon pizza. Now, remember the state i was in thanks to the Ultra-Metabolism Diet by Dr. Hayman and judge me with some empathy. The first slice I pull out spits a glob of molten lava cheese onto my hand causing me to fling it onto the passenger side window. it slides down all gooey and slow while i curse. I play hot potato with my left and right hand as i move the pizza towards my mouth. i take a huge bite, with a no logic thinking of, "this pizza is way too hot for my hands so my mouth must be the place to put it." It was not. I have to spit out the hellfire onto the floor board where I also drop the pizza. i fan my gaping unfortunate mouth, trying to cool the roof of it that is now sizzling. Remember this, I walked out of the pizza place with three boxes. Boxes do not generally contain liquids. Basically, nothing to drink keeps me doing this fanning ritual for at least a minute while a burn blister forms in my mouth. Also remember, I merely cranked the car, I did not drive anywhere. This whole, horrific ordeal happened in a bustling strip mall parking lot. I look at the passenger side window to see how far the cheese was on it's journey down when I noticed that the whole event was being watched by a car full of teenagers who at present were laughing uncontrollably. Now I cannot say for sure, because I put the car in drive and bolted, but I think they may have been laughing at me, not with me.

I am sure they were grateful for the moment.

Anonymous said...

This morning when I woke up, I realized we left the pizza out all night and I am okay with that. I got my fill of doughy, cheesy goodness.

Shea Goff said...

You think I wrote a good sentence. Today that's enough.

PAINT the MASTERPIECE. Or wait, you write the novel. Or wait, you...or me...or....last one there has to go through the Hyman detox again.

Hilarious. I should have mentioned one of the drawbacks of the Hyman Ultrametabolism take away everything good you ever wanted in life cleansing. You will now perform grand acts of self inflicted injury during your insatiable hunger for processed foods. This, my friend, is only the beginning.

Way to spread the gratitude, dude.