for some reason today i just thought of spicy brown...the sock puppet i made back in high school.
me and bill had to present a project in any format that we could think of. so we decided to put on a puppet show to discuss the moral good of not whoring around. but this was not just any puppet show...ours was to be the "misadventures of spicy brown and the hoe 3"
yes we made a pimp puppet named spicy brown (we got the name from a little bottle of imported mustard that had molded in my refrigerator for 2 millenia) and his three bitches who were, yes, made out of knee high stoking hoes.
spicy was made out of a old brown sock i found in my mothers dresser, and for his suit i crafted a genuine pimp suit out of purple velvet complete with the trade mark pimp hat, feather, and a cane that used to be a stitching needle.
the hoes all had little feather boas and afros. we made a card board ghetto hoopty for the puppets to cruise the hood.
and all these memories made me sad. because that is what they are. laughter from a time past.
from a time that i would like to get back, and a place i would live in forever.
but are these times truelly gone?
or are they immortal. forever sealed into my soul and crafted into the handwork of all that makes me.
how could i ever forget?