One day, as Jessie and I lounged around at home, listening to some news show on the public-radio station, the host said “A warning to our listeners: this story contains graphic descriptions of the physical and sexual abuse of children.”
“Gentlemen, start your boners,” I said.
“YOU SICK BASTARD!” Jessie screamed.
“Come on, they obviously want to attract listeners, or they wouldn’t’ve said that.”
Jessie—not yet my ex-girlfriend—calmed down. You can’t joke about anything nowadays. And since my parents had treated me like dog crap for most of my childhood—ah, who cares? I care more that the news show host looks hot. (I Googled her photo.)
Copyright © 2021 by David V. Matthews
