Monday, January 09, 2006
"She laughs. She laughs when I cum," I tell Tom.
"What?"
"Sometimes she holds it back, but you can always tell she's holding back a laugh. At the very least she snickers. Every time. Every damn time."
"That's weird."
"Yeah."
I take another swig and we round another block. We're about half a mile from Tom's place now and I can't feel my face. Tom is wearing one of those black stalker hats with just the three round holes for the eyes and mouth. This way he can still see and drink. His cell phone rings and he takes the call.
"He-y-man, ye-ah, whaddyaneed?" The words are so very slurred. We are also pretty drunk at this point.
I decide to check my voicemail. I spend a minute entering passcodes and listening to pre-recorded voices. Giving information, getting information. 5437 gets me a voice informing me of my one unheard message. Then I get the message and it's so fucking like her.
"...I have a plan."
And now I'm half annoyed. And half mad. Her and her half-baked schemes. Above her head floats a lightbulb that's always flicking on and off. So fast it gives you seizures like those harcore Japanese video games give you seizures. Idea, idea, idea. But I'm still mad because I still want to know more. I know I'll probably never know more. I'll know enough to keep me strung along, but she won't ever tell me everything she's up to. Never.
But I'm totally in love with her. So yeah. Whatever. ΒΆ 9:33 AM
"What?"
"Sometimes she holds it back, but you can always tell she's holding back a laugh. At the very least she snickers. Every time. Every damn time."
"That's weird."
"Yeah."
I take another swig and we round another block. We're about half a mile from Tom's place now and I can't feel my face. Tom is wearing one of those black stalker hats with just the three round holes for the eyes and mouth. This way he can still see and drink. His cell phone rings and he takes the call.
"He-y-man, ye-ah, whaddyaneed?" The words are so very slurred. We are also pretty drunk at this point.
I decide to check my voicemail. I spend a minute entering passcodes and listening to pre-recorded voices. Giving information, getting information. 5437 gets me a voice informing me of my one unheard message. Then I get the message and it's so fucking like her.
"...I have a plan."
And now I'm half annoyed. And half mad. Her and her half-baked schemes. Above her head floats a lightbulb that's always flicking on and off. So fast it gives you seizures like those harcore Japanese video games give you seizures. Idea, idea, idea. But I'm still mad because I still want to know more. I know I'll probably never know more. I'll know enough to keep me strung along, but she won't ever tell me everything she's up to. Never.
But I'm totally in love with her. So yeah. Whatever. ΒΆ 9:33 AM
