My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

met a locksmith. went to switch out locks for an old woman who’d been punched and robbed. That was sad, but not every old woman has him over because she’s been robbed. He held onto one old lady who had to hold onto him just to walk across the room. He switched out some locks and finishes up, asking, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

from here I’ll let him speak for himself…

“She looked me up and down real slow and creepy and said, ‘Yes, but I don’t think you’re man enough to do it.’ I dropped my head and said ‘O.K.’ and walked out of there as fast as I could.”

This guy was funny, like a combination of Ian Loch and Ken Hawkins and all the funny kids from NH who loved to tell a story where they realized they weren’t man enough to do it.

He must be from New England. I never asked, I just knew. We beat each other up back there, call it conditioning for the winter. Just yesterday I took notes on the inside of a ripped up cigarette pack as we made jokes about having sex with a pregnant woman.

Here’s some backstory. We cleaned out a garage and found a bunch of porn on VHS. “Knocked Up and Horny” was the name of a loose cassette stuffed behind an old wooden dresser. Cleaning out garages teaches you about the world.

“Is that a threesome, if you do a pregnant woman?”

“Yeah, but one third of it’s pedophilia.”

“Could you get arrested for that?”

“What if it was a breach baby and you got it pregnant?”

“That couldn’t happen.”

So we had a reality check. We were mocking motherhood and innocence. We needed to. It was a very New England moment. Something that derives from rebellion. An urge from reading “Live Free Or Die” on snow-tired Subaru license plates back east.

It’s fun to regress once in awhile. I spend a lot of time learning about other cultures and how to say, “where’s the bathroom?” in Cantonese. Learning acceptance and tolerance. To rip into my own flesh and the flesh of those who look like me is like medicine.