I’d made a habit of hunching my shoulders

I’d made a habit of hunching my shoulders and frowning when I saw myself in the mirror, practicing toughness that didn’t come naturally to my smirky, jovial face. The older I

got, the more my hunch became visible. I can't explain the anger, really. It was just .... there. It was my five year old niece who noticed what was happening to my shoulder

She said, "Uncle Murrey, your shoulder is pregnant." So I shouted, "At least I've been through puberty Samantha!" Just then her mom, my sister walked around the corner and

the enema bag fell out of her purse. "Oh Snap" she mutered. "that was for the party at Aunt Minney's loft tonight" "well, I'll have to get a date for the dog because my ass is sore

from picking my bingo numbers with the mailman. The dog is old and moldy and the fish voted him the weakest link in the ankle of time."We must ride on!" said the cheese

but betrayal of what, that seemed to be the question that no one had the balls to ask, what does any of this mean, is this just the mutterings of one who, wrongly thinks they are

African American? It's a known condition called Eminemophilia and so far, its incurable. But after years of therapy, some sufferers have actually started to

question the appeal of an ass like that, and start cleanin' out THEIR closets.

Their closets, having been cleaned, became the final destination for the races who had fought over asses like that for so long. Peace became as facile as ur favorite old sweatshirt