little quirky esoteric men

I remember these guys wandering around in the early '90s wearing tee shirts that said BIPOLAR IS SEXY.

They'd get up around noon, smoke a bowl or six, nosh on some Cap'N'Crunch, and watch movies on TCM.

"Hey, dawg, that's Claude Rains! 'The Invisible Man!' Whoa! I saw him on an episode of 'Alfred Hitchcock Presents.' He played this pastor who bet his life savings on a racehorse to finance a new roof for his church. But I can't remember how it ended, man! Isn't that fucked up? My memory's, like, fading lately; I dunno what the f**k's goin' on!"

Then, they'd call up their Source and speak in code.

“Yo, Marco.”

“‘S’up?”

"Any potten bush on the horizon, brah?"

"Uh huh."

"Half?"

"Right."

"'Preciate it."

"You da man."

"Time?"

"Thirteen hundred."

"Half past."

"I be's here."

"See ya."

"Wouldn't wanna be ya."

"Never tire a that s**t, do ya?"

"Not ashamed to admit it."

"Quiet."

Then they'd call their "girlfriends."

"Deena."

"Bruce."

"Whadda ya doin'?"

"Ohh, I just bought one of those jack rabbit vibrators. Ohmyfuckinggod, it's so f*****g intense!"

"Hey, favor."

"No booty call."

"Come on, now."

"I'm too soar."

"Pretty please? With whipped cream and sprinkles and a cherry on top?"

"I am raw."

"Deena."

"Bruce."

"I haven't had any in like three weeks."

"Poor baby."

"Don't make me hit the streets."

"I'm not makin' you do anything, punk.  You have free will.  You do things of your own volition and at your own risk."

"Treat me like a damn stepchild."

"Aren't you?"

"B***h…. I'm Audi."

"I'll invite you to the wedding."

"What wedding?"

"Me and Jack."

"Jack?"

"Jack Rabbit."

"Never replace me."

"You just don't know."

"Peace and Love."

"Viva la Jack!  Viva la Jack!  God bless Jack!"

Then they'd get in their '72 Chevy Malibu's, drive to 7-11, purchase two 1/4 pound Big Bite Hot Dogs, a Big Gulp Ice Cream Float, and two packs of Swisher Sweets, and always run into somebody they knew from high school or a job they worked at for three or four days, usually guys with names like Tuffy or Bullet or Scooter or Dice, with the conversation typically going something like:

"Hey."

"Hey."

And that would be it.

They'd get back into their cars and insert Uriah Heep's "Live on the King Biscuit Flower Hour" CD into the player and listen to "Easy Living" twenty-seven times, singing along only to the chorus. "Easy livin' and I've been forgiven/Since you've taken/Your place in my heart…"

They'd travel toward the Red Light District but get pulled over halfway there by a motorcycle cop for an expired inspection sticker.

"Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?"

"I dunno, probably somethin' havin' to do with meeting your quotas."

"Your inspection sticker's expired."

"Oh really? Yeah, you're right, it has. Sorry."

"I'm 'onna have to write you a ticket."

"Dude, it's only a couple months overdue… I been meaning to get it inspected but between my work schedule and everything else that's been goin' on… my mom has ovarian cancer… and I just lost my job."

"You just said your work schedule prevented you from..."

"It did, before, you know, I was just let go today… my supervisor fired me for lack of… something or other… performance anxiety some s**t, man… I feel I was set up to take a fall, but, anyway."

But they'd get the ticket, anyway, drive off, forgetting all about the Red Light District, and head back home, where they'd go back to bed, looking like small, unhappy sleeping Buddhas.