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It seems like everyone I know is going marsupial.
Getting a pouch sewn onto their abdomen to carry things.
Not unlike a new tattoo, but without the colors.
At first I thought this odd.
And a bit disturbing.
Like a “man purse.”
But just as a woman could now more easily carry her daily accoutrements.
Like her lipstick and cellphone.
I could also more easily carry my man accoutrements.
Like a 6-pack of beer.
Or my sawed off shotgun.
I found it very freeing to no longer have to carry my sawed off shotgun
tucked down my pant leg where when I walked stiff-legged into a bar
and a bunch of drunken sailors would inevitably say:
“How’s it going there peg leg.”
Before they could properly apologize to my sawed off shotgun.
Having a pouch immediately raised my self- confidence.
I was able to simultaneously enter a 12-step program
and start a national speaking tour as a “life coach”
on how people could improve their lives.
It seems like everyone I know
is also is getting into this “life coaching” thing.
I would look at them and think.
Your life sucks.
What are you going to give advice on how to have a life that sucks.
A better approach might be for them to give advice along the lines:
“How to not turn out like me.”
Or take my own mundane and rather unremarkable life.
Are the depressing details of how I got to this unfortunate state
of any possible value to you?
Evidently, and people are willing to pay for it.
It’s always better to have some stranger
who knows absolutely nothing about you
tell you how to live your life
rather than take the time to just figure it out yourself.
When I got back from my pouch-inspired national tour
of improving people’s lives I was exhausted.
They greeted me at my front door
with folded arms and frowns on their faces.
What was it with these kangaroos?