who are you calling a sex addict

you talk about it you're not alone

my father once had seven earrings lining his left ear. It's the little things like that from a big complicated life that you shouldn't be able to forget.

my father felt love for a spanish non english speaking worker who sewed at the awning company he welded for. he said she was beautiful. he welded awning after awning in our city, and pointed them out to me every time we passed one, and noted as time passed in oakland and nevada city when they were removed or changed. The woman he eyed, who returned his smiles and flirtations was gunned down by her boyfriend in his factory late at night, and he says the cops didn't clean it up. they had worked beside each other for two years. he broke down drunk to me one night when i was 14, telling me between sobs that he had to sweep up the shattered pieces of her skull, and scrub the floor during the early hours of the morning after the others had left him to his business there. he has not spoken of it since, and I don't plan on reminding him. he is to good to be reminded.