There's a weird dude in my neighborhood who sits on the swing set in the little public park across the field behind my house. All day, just swinging, with the swing chains going creak creak. Every day. He's Tweedle Dee huge and always wears a yellow hat and sits with his left hand behind his back.
My first thought was sex offender, and I haven't really had a second thought yet.
Every day the dog and I run past him and even though it's at a point in my route when my lungs are on fire and my legs feel noodley and made of cement at the same time, we always pick up the pace. He's probably some eccentric genius with heartwarming tales of human suffering and redemption, but I'm just chickenshit enough to let that opportunity pass.
By the way, I totally needed a jacket today. Someone at this website needs their internal thermostat sissy-fied.
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