Collegiate Moments
“I love his butt dimples, babe, you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yeah,” I responded, not paying attention as I typed words into a book people would probably never read.
“Butt dimples,” JJ Golightly snickered.
We were talking about the dog, as my husband playfully slapped him around and JJ pretended to complete her homework assignment, “You are not beautiful,” she muttered to a textbook picture of a naked British man. I wondered if the picture featured his butt dimples, I never took my eyes off my computer screen long enough to notice. I thought about my butt dimples.
We continued to discuss the fat Asian children also featured in the same textbook. “We should adopt Asian children, we could have our own fat Buddhas!” We quickly got over the excitement of the chubby Chinese kids and proceeded with a discussion of flopping genitalia when hanging out in the nude, and whether it hurt or not.
I have a “Love Buddha” on my night stand that Davey Barnes gave me with my wedding gift. I love him, and his little mahogany belly. At Honey Tree he was perched a top a fountain, those kind they sell at Hippie nature stores that “soothe and relax your senses.”
Buddha always makes me think of butt dimples now, I’m sure he had quite a few.
Anakalian Whims 
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