The youngest walking into the living room,
announcing, “Boy, it’s been a long time since
one of my turds clogged the toilet!”
A pair of panties lying on the floor of the
café, next to a matronly patron.
An extremely large acquaintance offering a
detailed description of inner thigh chafing.
A line worker speaking of
“Glistening gay vampires.”
Angie, Brad, Sandra, Jesse and
all the other celebrities that I could not possibly
give a flying rat’s ass about.
These are things that I do not need to know.