I tried to concentrate

on the words of the

Buddhist giving his

dharma talk. But the

dog outside kept

barking, and the fat

cat named Karma kept

purring on my lap. I

liked the purring, and

though I like dogs too,

the constant barking

was really too much.

But at the time I scolded

myself for being bothered

it and surmised that I just

wasn’t enlightened enough.

So I peeled my eyes from

the fantastic ass of the

nubile young woman sitting

lotus style in front of me,

and put them back onto the

Buddhist giving the dharma

talk. “You’re Not the Same

Person who Came in Through

the Door Only Moments ago,”

he said before explicating

that we are not really

separate, discreet entities,

and that the only thing that’s

constant is change, etc. I’m

sure you’ve heard it all before,

in one form or another, “Each

man is your brother, ” et al.

Well, in a purely scientific

sense, I may not be exactly

the same man now as the one

who’d walked into that

Buddhist temple so many

years ago, but I still can’t stand

dog owners who tie their dogs

up on short leashes for extended

periods of time, to the point

where they bark incessantly

for help. And something in

the wisdom of the blood still

knows that a young woman’s ass

is worth more than any

philosophical stuff. And yeah,

the dog belonged to the jerk who

gave the dharma talk.

 

— Fyodor Bukowski, author of Mail-Order Annie

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