part 318.3 of a novel: Mr. golf clubs, Mrs. dollhouse

I have never found a gumball machine in a dumpster even though I’ve been known to write on my resume, “I once found a gumball machine in a dumpster.” This is not true. The only place I found a gumball machine was in a flooded basement and I’m not even sure the basement was flooded. I think the floors were painted blue. I am not sure though. One side of my head says, “Your boots were wet.” The other side of my head says, “No, they were blue because you stepped in wet paint.” Regardless, I found the gumball machine on a table next to a set of golf clubs and a doll house. I did not rescue the golf clubs or the dollhouse because they were fucking and I didn’t want to interrupt them. The golf clubs did say, “Look at that ass. Have you ever seen an ass that good?”

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