Ryanindaswamp / Man In Da Street

A Brief Flash In Time   /   Theorizing The Existential Beauty Of Space and Time


"Yo Dawg. Bobby B."

Ryan yells from behind a large potted, blooming cactus as he approaches the apartment complex of his former residence.
Bobby is out harvesting the beauty of the recent Monsoons here in the desert. 
As cool as can be Bobby blows it off like nothin biggy big. Thang is he can't hide the smile busting loose from his grill.

"Ryan, My Dawg. What Up My Brother. Where you really been Man?"

"Retreat my Man".

"RyanindaSwamp In Da Desert In Da Wind".

"Yeah. More like Ryanindaswamp In Da Desert Iz Da Wind".

"Yeah. Ryan all up in Da Yickety Dat".

"As always my Man on Da Nail".

Ryan and his friend talk. Then in a all too slight nod Bobby gives that someone in back cha blink.

Ryan turns around slow, in an all so cool way. That lean against a wooden building support log outside the saloon taking a hit from his menthol rollie..

There before him stands the most beautiful desert breeze. Sweet colitis wrapped in an all too tight just short enough summer dress. Painted toe nails. Barefoot on the 108 degree tarmac.

Drop dead, Weast Coast L.A. Gorgous.
Body By Ferrari.

TBGNS.

Right there without one scoch of a scintilla of a doubt.
Ryan knows Dis Hiz Girl.

The desert breeze kicks up her rear hind quarters and kicks a sweet scented salacious breeze. 

"Hey Bobby... Blasey, Blasey, Blasey"
"So Ryan. Where have you been. Where are you staying. Are you back in Tucson. Where are you staying. Are you moving back here. Huh Ryan".

All Ryan can do is is stand there in this loving heavenly I'm gonna bang your brains out moment for life.

"So where you been?"

"Here and there."

"Where and where. You moving back here. You staying up in Flag. What are you doing."

"Day to day. Up in the air".

"Hmmmm. Do you have you have a cigarette"?

"Yeah".
Ryan reaches in his left back pocket and draws out a pack of Tops Menthol Rollie's. 
He fishes for the papers.
"Bobby you got da papers"/

"Yeah. Hold on". As Bobby started to roll up the industrial garden hose.

"You moving back here? Really. What are you doing Ryan".

"Not really sure. Day to day thang".

All Ryan could do was play it so cool. Every nano tick to tock his love for this Girl grew exponentially.
She was his.
He was wrapped upped.
Signed.
Sealed and Delivered.

"Here da papers Man".

"Thanx"

"Here Ya Go Girl".
Of course TBGNS could more than amply roll Her own.

"I don't wanna cigarette".

"Here Zoie. I got you some papers".

"I Do not wanna a cigerette. Ryan"

"Oh. I thought"...

"Ryan. Please"

At that very point Ryan knew for real for sure Hiz Pimp Hand Strong.
That Zoie was his Girl from here to forever.

Zoie walked away with Ryan in tow talking about peoples reactions and the actual physics involved regarding their every move, thought and action and the symmetrical balance of all and everything.
The hot flamed tarmac had absolutely not one effect on Zoies feet.

They walked over to Her front door. 
Iggy Da Dog just kept looking up and winking.
"So really Ryan. Where are you staying"?

"Just here and there".

"I'm going places tomorrow. Come by and see me in the morning. We'll go together".

"For real, cause I'm not trying to come by and then you all up in da crib all moody mood".

"For real Ryan. Come by early".

"See Ya a.m. Girl".

"Bye Ryan".

"By Zoie".
Iggy Da Dog gave hiz farewell nod.

Bobby walked by and rolled his eyes. Shook his head.

"Damn right Dawg. 
My Pimp Hand Strong. 
Girl on it like chocolate on Twix".

"Damn Dawg. She all right up on it".

"Copy Dat. 
She my Girl from now to the thick and thin.
Catch you later Dawg. I'm goin by the college and knock off a verb".

As Ryan walked up back into Da Hood all he could think about was TBGNS. (The Beautiful Girl Next Store)
In granite. 
Nothing to even begin to analyze. 
Hiz Gal For Sure From Here Out Up Into The Spur There and Back.

Now. Onto The World.

The world is for sure still one politically controlled bought and sold media frenzy passion play of pretend world domination selling product at un before seen volumes.

'As The Cesspool Turns'.

"My name is Mr. Malitan. I am your television production professor for the next two semesters.
The most important part of the television business, class.
Television Is One Big Fat Lie. You will be tested".

Ryan. Out.