This is gonna hurt like hell
This has been a trying 48 hours for me. I started by putting up plastic sheeting all over the apartment. I got off work early Friday so it glimmered nicely in the setting of the mid winter sun. It seems to breathe, the walls heaving collective sighs as I walk here or there, rippling in my path. It almost takes on an organic characteristic that serves to remind/embarrass me of my own failings. It has become my own enemy which I resent. I despise the fact that I can see myself in it, draped tightly over the windows and can hear the static embrace of the wall when my dry ear dares to get close enough to listen. The hair on my arm stiffens and I lament the lack of contorl over my body. But what else is new...
I stay in the kitchen, those egg shell walls are easy to clean.
But my girlfriend sure will be happy if things go wrong. I have a well thought out and comprehensive plan to keep my blood off these walls, and so far it seems to be working. My apartment is white, not nearly enough sun, but white in a non-descript overexposed picture sort of way. This is where we lead our lives; in this cloudy blob of whiteness that dulls our edges and mutes our features. I have 15 corners in my apartment, not counting cupboards or shelves, and I’ve mastered moving from one to the next with a sense of feline self consciousness where every step is at the same time cautious and adventurous. Megan once emulating a cat’s flat paw across my groin and I haven’t forgotten it since. Every step equal intrigue, every step equal impression.
I have 15 beers in me and a bottle of wine and a bottle on Tylenol. Now tell me if I will land on my feet? It would be a shame to waste all this nice plastic sheeting on the walls and globe and mail on the floor only to jump out the window.
Lucky for me I have a plan. What do they say? Jump right before you hit the bottom?
Labels: actual stuff, future?, going crazy, kill yourself-suprise your friends, tender tender flesh, unceremonious, uncontrollable urges
Watch and learn; this is how you get laid!
Me: Drunkenly MSMing chicks.
Her: Loving my poor spelling
First off, girls love it when you can spot a good deal, so imagine how impressed she was when I told her I got 2 pounds of wing and 5 beers for 18 bucks! That, plus me crafting dope poetry at the same time, how could she resist?
Such romantic things like inventing a new karate move and naming it after her then going around punching old people in the heart so they can feel what its like to die alone without her. That doesn’t even make sense but it’s golden, she ate that shit up!
A few more lines like that and she’ll overlook the fact that I’m about one beer away from pissing myself. And I’m gonna think of her while I do it!
Doesn’t get sexier then that! Welcome to the bone zone!
Just be glad i didnt put it back in the fridge this time
It’s Saturday night and I can’t even
beg a friend to hang out with me. There was a time when I was double or triple booked every night of the week, and now, now I’m having a photo shoot with different wedges of cheese and a mason s’ jar of lemon preserves that I made. It’s hard to capture the cloudy mix of lemon juice through the reflection of the glass. It’s harder to come to terms with the fact that this is my Saturday night.
Oh Gruyere, you are such a good subject, this light flatters you nicely. And your creamy texture reminds me of passionate lovers that I also used to rub all over my privates!
the price of infamy, an hero...
If planning for the future lets you know you have one, why the hell am I half heartedly dragging this toothbrush over my teeth? I watched myself laboriously with my puffy red eyes muster all my strength to pull my arm in broad horizontal stroke in an attempt to wash this bitter taste from my mouth. To no avail.
God, tell me about dire straits. I called my pastor and church buddy and they didn’t pick up.
Lets get a bottle and drink, tonight!
I’ve been suffering juvenile fits lately. I swear I’m devolving or regressing or something and I love it. I dance erratically like kids in those kiddy pop videos from the 80’s. I head bang to rap, I jump kick to metal, I pack my face with as much beer as I can possibly fit and shake my head until its foams from my mouth and burns as it expands down my throat. I’ll thrash about until my glasses are flung from my face and I’m forced to squint into the faces of my horrified friends.
Fuck you, just because I’m driving with a suspended license because I’m too afraid to open my mail and I’m banned from my favorite strip club doesn’t mean you can judge me. Why do you care anyways? Sure it limits birthday activities and I’m pretty sure people can see through my meager excuses when I say I’m all of a sudden morally opposed to strip clubs.
Me not loving strippers? Its one of the only honest things I do!
Some finer points in romance
So like in most things, my girlfriend has decided to copy me again. First she cut her hair short like me, then she got braces (I never needed them to begin with), this time it’s a blog. That’s ok, as in most cases mine will remain better than hers. She writes about the politics of feminism. I yawn and write stories that make people forget about politics or the fact that they might be a girl because I’m so funny.
Another usless blog, so sad really.
I heard they suck live
Got free tickets to go see Andrew W.K. the first week of Feb. I won them from 102.1 for telling them that it was time for my prep-school girlfriend and her stuck up parents to be exposed to my dirty, shameful love for Andrew W.K.
Yeah boyyeee, me plus 3! Come to think of it, it’s never too soon to reveal your head banging and casual urination habits to the ones you love! Plus who can resist a show where 75 % of the lyrics are the words “party”?
That spells fun, me thinks.
So I was lucky enough to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Revolution in Varadero, Cuba this New Years Eve. I’m sure these stories and many others will come out in due time, but right now I’m focused solely on my cyst. I have one, and it’s bigger than any I’ve found on YouTube. It's so big I call it my a-cyst-ant because it outweighs my girlfriend...well, in the looks department, atleast.
