My Opposite

(From a short piece of fiction by mccorpsecorpse): Who is your opposite?

My opposite works three jobs: grocery bagger during the day, rent boy in the evening, and selling hard drugs whenever he can get them. He only respects those he fears. He's one bounced rent-cheque from being homeless, but that doesn't faze him because he's been on the streets before, and also he doesn't think that far in advance. If he did, he'd realize his days as rent-boy are numbered, 'cause he ain't getting younger. No matter, life's much better for him than it was when he got to the city of Calcutta as a teenager. He was born in rural slums, the youngest of eight siblings and had very little stability. He hates what he remembers of his family. When he dreams now, they are dreams of power, money, and revenge on all who did him wrong. If he gets drunk enough, he stops being afraid and forgets that his best years are far behind him.

My opposite hates dogs.

(no subject)

I saw three smart cars today, in town. I've seen two of them, on many days, but never three before. I didn't even cheat and go drive past joymoose's house to count her neighbour's (the Jesus Car. It's plastered with ads for a Christian radio station).

Two of them had personalized plates. One said SMAR10 UP and the other said XXXXXL .

They're so cute.