Donna's been mad at me lately because I've been flaking out on going places. But we made up on the phone yesterday, and she came over and we had a long talk.
It seems that she's been cheating on Vance. Sort of. Emotionally, really. She's been on Facebook and talking on the phone with this guy she wants to go see. She tells me that she's stopped having sex with Vance because she feels like she's cheating on this other guy if she does. That's pretty fucked up.
I asked her what she's going to do.
"I don't know," she said. "It would be great if I could just run off or something. But I can't really do that. I'm still in school, after all."
She smirked. When she smirks she looks like Patti Smith. If Patti Smith were almost 400 pounds. She's quite an unattractive guy, for a chick. If Donna weren't all boobs and ass, it wouldn't be hard to mistake her for a guy, either. If I were even a little bi-curious, and into obese people, I'd have taken her up on her suggestion a few weeks ago to fool around, she looks so much like a man. I think I'm back to Vance being a closet-case. Maybe even to himself.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Good Riddance Uncle Richard
How can one be happy to see one's daughter when the payment for doing so is to be molested by one's uncle? Of course, she was also my reward for being molested by him.
Thank God Aunt Kitty is okay, and thank God Uncle Richard has gone back to New York. I'm going to have to shower constantly for a week and have sex with about a dozen different guys to feel clean again.
I can't believe my poor baby has to live with him.
I will never forgive my mother for what she did to me. Fuck that bitch.
I spent the day talking to Donna on the phone. She's coming over tonight. We're going to talk some more. She can't believe my weekend. I can't believe I told her. I've never shared this with anyone.
I don't want to go over Donna's place. Her boyfriend, Vance, is weird. All he does is read and write. And he gets mad all the time if you're talking when he's writing. There's something creepy about him. I just can't quite put my finger on it.
I'd probably sleep with him given half a chance.
I need to think about something other than sex.
I always think about sex.
I'm going to read some Anais Nin.
I always think about sex.
I need to think about school. I have classwork to think about. Homework.
I would probably have sex with my humanities T.A. to get an A.
Seriously, why must I turn everything into sex? Why must I always think about sex? I have objectified myself. And I object. And I don't know how to change the subject. So I subject myself to self-flagellation and an endless line of men.
I need a man. Now.
I'm going to call Donna.
Thank God Aunt Kitty is okay, and thank God Uncle Richard has gone back to New York. I'm going to have to shower constantly for a week and have sex with about a dozen different guys to feel clean again.
I can't believe my poor baby has to live with him.
I will never forgive my mother for what she did to me. Fuck that bitch.
I spent the day talking to Donna on the phone. She's coming over tonight. We're going to talk some more. She can't believe my weekend. I can't believe I told her. I've never shared this with anyone.
I don't want to go over Donna's place. Her boyfriend, Vance, is weird. All he does is read and write. And he gets mad all the time if you're talking when he's writing. There's something creepy about him. I just can't quite put my finger on it.
I'd probably sleep with him given half a chance.
I need to think about something other than sex.
I always think about sex.
I'm going to read some Anais Nin.
I always think about sex.
I need to think about school. I have classwork to think about. Homework.
I would probably have sex with my humanities T.A. to get an A.
Seriously, why must I turn everything into sex? Why must I always think about sex? I have objectified myself. And I object. And I don't know how to change the subject. So I subject myself to self-flagellation and an endless line of men.
I need a man. Now.
I'm going to call Donna.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Uncle Richard in Town
So Uncle Richard arrived at the DFW airport yesterday with Vicky to avoid Hurricane Irene. I picked him up and took him to the hotel where he's staying. I told him he couldn't stay with me, because I lived in the dorms. Which is more or less true.
On the drive from the airport, Uncle Richard asked where the city was. I hadn't thought of that. Compared to New York, Dallas doesn't resemble a city until you get toward downtown. It's clearly urban, but Dallas does not have the density of New York.
I took Uncle Richard to the hotel and helped him get all his and Vicky's stuff into the room. Two double beds, one for Vicky -- though she's still pretty small, she should be okay sleeping by herself. Uncle Richard asked if I was going to spend the nights with them. Vicky is talking a bit now, so Uncle Richard had to be subtle.
"I'd really rather stay in my own bed," I said.
"You'll get to spend more time with Vicky if you spend the nights," Uncle Richard said. "We can all get breakfast in the morning."
"And what will I do once she's asleep?" I asked. "Or should I ask, what do you think you're going to do with me once she's asleep?"
"I came to get Vicky out of the way of danger."
"Then why not send Aunt Kitty? Or are you that much of a coward?" I asked.
I figured I could ask that of him. He's in no position to make me too mad. He just looked me up and down. I turned away in disgust.
"Look, you and I both know you're going to do what I want." He said this and glanced at Vicky. Really? At her age? I wouldn't doubt it.
"You promise to leave her alone?" I asked.
"You spend the nights here with me, and she's safe," he said.
I was thankful yet again that Aunt Kitty had put me on birth control after I had Vicky. All the boys I'd been with, I made use a condom. He refused. Thus, Vicky. Aunt Kitty, I assume, had no idea.
"I can't believe Aunt Kitty is up in New York, facing an oncoming hurricane, and this is all you can think about," I said.
"Kitty will be fine," he said. "It will probably be a tropical storm by the time it gets to her, anyway. Besides, I've been missing you. I didn't think I'd get to see you again so soon."
"Whatever," I said. I was just thankful that it was early afternoon, and it would be hours before Vicky went to sleep. Plenty of time to shut myself down, to feel as little as possible, the way I had been for the almost three years I lived with Uncle Richard and Aunt Kitty.
At least Uncle Richard had the decency to not talk about it again the rest of the afternoon and evening. We went out to eat. We found a pizza place, about which Uncle Richard complained constantly. I don't know what he was expecting in Dallas. It's not New York, after all. We then went to the mall in Plano, where we each got a cookie. I like the frosted chocolate chip cookies. Especially the double ones with the double chocolate chip cookies, when they have them. They had them. I was happy. Uncle Richard also bought me a bunch of clothes. I found a bunch of very expensive things I could not afford. Let him afford them. I also found a few cute things for Vicky. I couldn't get her everything I wanted, because they have to fly back with it all. We let Vicky play in the play area at the mall until closing, then we went back to the hotel.
When we got back to the hotel, Uncle Richard said he was going to go down to the lobby for something and that he'd be right back. I changed Vicky into her pajamas, then lay in the bed with her cuddled up next to me. I tried to hold back the tears as I felt her little head in the crook of my arm. I love all her little black hairs. I don't care who her father is, she's my jewel. She was asleep by the time Uncle Richard returned. He had a bottle of wine and two glasses.
"I thought we'd drink some wine. You're too young to drink at the bar, so I bought a bottle and brought it up."
Perfect! The more drunk I was, the less likely I would be fully conscious.
I stood and went to the rest room. When I returned, he was naked on the bed.
"Come, sit with me," he said.
"I'm not drunk yet," I said.
"Why is that necessary?"
Still, he handed me a glass full of wine. I downed it.
"It's good," I said, still standing. He filled the glass again.
"Come," he said. "Sit next to me."
I undressed and got in under the covers next to him, still holding my wine.
The next morning (you didn't think I'd go into all the disgusting details, did you?), I woke before either Uncle Richard or Vicky, and got in the shower. There isn't enough soap in a hotel to make one feel clean after a night like I had. My uncle came in and opened the shower curtain, obviously prepared to continue doing what he had done the night before. Fortunately, we heard Vicky getting up, so he just waited for me to finish showering, then took one himself. I dressed, then got Vicky dressed, and when Uncle Richard was ready, we all went down for breakfast.
I showed them around UTD, then we went to the Starbucks before we went to lunch. After lunch, I told them I had to get something done, and that I would come get them for dinner. Thus, I am here, writing this. Tonight I expect a repeat of last night. I am disgusted with myself, but what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what to do.
On the drive from the airport, Uncle Richard asked where the city was. I hadn't thought of that. Compared to New York, Dallas doesn't resemble a city until you get toward downtown. It's clearly urban, but Dallas does not have the density of New York.
I took Uncle Richard to the hotel and helped him get all his and Vicky's stuff into the room. Two double beds, one for Vicky -- though she's still pretty small, she should be okay sleeping by herself. Uncle Richard asked if I was going to spend the nights with them. Vicky is talking a bit now, so Uncle Richard had to be subtle.
"I'd really rather stay in my own bed," I said.
"You'll get to spend more time with Vicky if you spend the nights," Uncle Richard said. "We can all get breakfast in the morning."
"And what will I do once she's asleep?" I asked. "Or should I ask, what do you think you're going to do with me once she's asleep?"
"I came to get Vicky out of the way of danger."
"Then why not send Aunt Kitty? Or are you that much of a coward?" I asked.
I figured I could ask that of him. He's in no position to make me too mad. He just looked me up and down. I turned away in disgust.
"Look, you and I both know you're going to do what I want." He said this and glanced at Vicky. Really? At her age? I wouldn't doubt it.
"You promise to leave her alone?" I asked.
"You spend the nights here with me, and she's safe," he said.
I was thankful yet again that Aunt Kitty had put me on birth control after I had Vicky. All the boys I'd been with, I made use a condom. He refused. Thus, Vicky. Aunt Kitty, I assume, had no idea.
"I can't believe Aunt Kitty is up in New York, facing an oncoming hurricane, and this is all you can think about," I said.
"Kitty will be fine," he said. "It will probably be a tropical storm by the time it gets to her, anyway. Besides, I've been missing you. I didn't think I'd get to see you again so soon."
"Whatever," I said. I was just thankful that it was early afternoon, and it would be hours before Vicky went to sleep. Plenty of time to shut myself down, to feel as little as possible, the way I had been for the almost three years I lived with Uncle Richard and Aunt Kitty.
At least Uncle Richard had the decency to not talk about it again the rest of the afternoon and evening. We went out to eat. We found a pizza place, about which Uncle Richard complained constantly. I don't know what he was expecting in Dallas. It's not New York, after all. We then went to the mall in Plano, where we each got a cookie. I like the frosted chocolate chip cookies. Especially the double ones with the double chocolate chip cookies, when they have them. They had them. I was happy. Uncle Richard also bought me a bunch of clothes. I found a bunch of very expensive things I could not afford. Let him afford them. I also found a few cute things for Vicky. I couldn't get her everything I wanted, because they have to fly back with it all. We let Vicky play in the play area at the mall until closing, then we went back to the hotel.
When we got back to the hotel, Uncle Richard said he was going to go down to the lobby for something and that he'd be right back. I changed Vicky into her pajamas, then lay in the bed with her cuddled up next to me. I tried to hold back the tears as I felt her little head in the crook of my arm. I love all her little black hairs. I don't care who her father is, she's my jewel. She was asleep by the time Uncle Richard returned. He had a bottle of wine and two glasses.
"I thought we'd drink some wine. You're too young to drink at the bar, so I bought a bottle and brought it up."
Perfect! The more drunk I was, the less likely I would be fully conscious.
I stood and went to the rest room. When I returned, he was naked on the bed.
"Come, sit with me," he said.
"I'm not drunk yet," I said.
"Why is that necessary?"
Still, he handed me a glass full of wine. I downed it.
"It's good," I said, still standing. He filled the glass again.
"Come," he said. "Sit next to me."
I undressed and got in under the covers next to him, still holding my wine.
The next morning (you didn't think I'd go into all the disgusting details, did you?), I woke before either Uncle Richard or Vicky, and got in the shower. There isn't enough soap in a hotel to make one feel clean after a night like I had. My uncle came in and opened the shower curtain, obviously prepared to continue doing what he had done the night before. Fortunately, we heard Vicky getting up, so he just waited for me to finish showering, then took one himself. I dressed, then got Vicky dressed, and when Uncle Richard was ready, we all went down for breakfast.
I showed them around UTD, then we went to the Starbucks before we went to lunch. After lunch, I told them I had to get something done, and that I would come get them for dinner. Thus, I am here, writing this. Tonight I expect a repeat of last night. I am disgusted with myself, but what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what to do.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Advertising
I really need to think about school and not the fact that that pervert is coming to see me. The fact that my roommate never showed up isn't going to help, either, because he'll was to stay here with me. Nothing like easy all-day access. Who can look forward to seeing their daughter when they have to also look forward to . . .
But like I said, I'm not going to think about that. What happens will happen, as it always did when I lived with him and Aunt Kitty, and that is that.
What I really need to think about is a major. Yes, I came to Texas to go to school without knowing what I would major in. Anything to get away. Anyway, I'm trying to think of something that could combine my love of poetry with the reality that being a poet will result in starvation and a life of under- or outright unappreciation. Maybe I could go into advertising and write jingles.
There once was a real thirsty bloke,
Thought Pepsi a real tasteless joke -
He liked to have fun,
Playing out in the sun
And found flavorful fun with a Coke.
Okay, that's more a limerick than a jingle, and it would probably only work in Australia, but you have to start somewhere, right? (And besides, they need advertising in Australia.)
I'll play around with the idea, see what happens. Maybe take an advertising class.
But like I said, I'm not going to think about that. What happens will happen, as it always did when I lived with him and Aunt Kitty, and that is that.
What I really need to think about is a major. Yes, I came to Texas to go to school without knowing what I would major in. Anything to get away. Anyway, I'm trying to think of something that could combine my love of poetry with the reality that being a poet will result in starvation and a life of under- or outright unappreciation. Maybe I could go into advertising and write jingles.
There once was a real thirsty bloke,
Thought Pepsi a real tasteless joke -
He liked to have fun,
Playing out in the sun
And found flavorful fun with a Coke.
Okay, that's more a limerick than a jingle, and it would probably only work in Australia, but you have to start somewhere, right? (And besides, they need advertising in Australia.)
I'll play around with the idea, see what happens. Maybe take an advertising class.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Hurricane Irene
And now it looks like Hurricane Irene is going to his Long Island. And my Uncle Richard is saying he's going to bring my daughter down here a few days to avoid the hurricane. Why not my Aunt Kitty? Seriously? He's going to leave my aunt up there to weather a hurricane while he comes down here to, what? I know exactly why that asshole wants to come down here without Kitty -- to try to give his daughter another sibling.
Is that sharing too much? Who's even reading this thing? Who even cares?
Is that sharing too much? Who's even reading this thing? Who even cares?
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Earthquake Felt in New York!
Oh my God, I just heard that there was an earthquake in Virgina, and that they felt it up in New York. My aunt and uncle called to tell me they and my daughter were alright. Weird! I've never heard of an earthquake on the east coast.
That so freaks me out. I wish I was there with my daughter. I bet she was scared. My aunt said she started crying. She and my uncle were all freaked out, but nobody's hurt. Of course, it's not nearly as strong in New York as in Virginia, where the epicenter is located, but still. I'm glad I was here and didn't have to experience it, but I also wish I was there for my daughter. Really, I wish I could have brought her here. I know that's impractical, but times like this make me wish I weren't being practical.
That so freaks me out. I wish I was there with my daughter. I bet she was scared. My aunt said she started crying. She and my uncle were all freaked out, but nobody's hurt. Of course, it's not nearly as strong in New York as in Virginia, where the epicenter is located, but still. I'm glad I was here and didn't have to experience it, but I also wish I was there for my daughter. Really, I wish I could have brought her here. I know that's impractical, but times like this make me wish I weren't being practical.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Pathetic Poem
How freaky is this? I was just talking about my mom, and then I went and unpacked a few more boxes, and I came across this lame-ass poem my mom wrote:
What man could love a woman who's this fat?
That's why I'm in this hospital, to keep
My boyfriend near -- without him I'm a gnat
And no one cares for me. My daughter's deep
And timeless love is duty-bound and so
The kind that doesn't matter much for lonely
Unlovely souls like mine -- where is the glow
Of one who's chosen me? My love's the only
One fool enough to be with me, this sad,
Pathetic lump of fat. But surgery
Upon this ravenous, disgusting, bad
And hateful stomach surely will curry
The favor of the man I love -- the love
Of my own daughter, though herself not slim,
Can see my plan to keep my love above
Reproach from me when I return to him.
Have you ever read worse verse? The fat-loving asshole would have probably left her after she lost all the weight, too. Of course, he won't see the light of day for a long, long time. Uncle Richard can kiss my ass, too.
What man could love a woman who's this fat?
That's why I'm in this hospital, to keep
My boyfriend near -- without him I'm a gnat
And no one cares for me. My daughter's deep
And timeless love is duty-bound and so
The kind that doesn't matter much for lonely
Unlovely souls like mine -- where is the glow
Of one who's chosen me? My love's the only
One fool enough to be with me, this sad,
Pathetic lump of fat. But surgery
Upon this ravenous, disgusting, bad
And hateful stomach surely will curry
The favor of the man I love -- the love
Of my own daughter, though herself not slim,
Can see my plan to keep my love above
Reproach from me when I return to him.
Have you ever read worse verse? The fat-loving asshole would have probably left her after she lost all the weight, too. Of course, he won't see the light of day for a long, long time. Uncle Richard can kiss my ass, too.
Disappointment, Hope, Boredom, Disappointment
I met this guy who is on the rugby team here at UTD, and within a few hours was reminded why I don't fuck jocks. I have to remind myself that I'm not that desperate. Nothing is better than thirty seconds of rabbit-on-caffeine lovin'. I won't be seeing him again, I don't care if he does call me back. Which I assume he won't.
Donna called me this morning. She has called me every day since I met her. We're going to go to this place called Fox & Hound tonight, which she says is a sports bar, but that they have food, so I can probably go. I guess we'll see. She says her boyfriend won't be along, which is fine with me. His name is Vance. What kind of name is Vance? I mean, are you trying to make your son gay, calling him Vance? Yes, I know he's dating Donna, but I just can't believe he's not a closet queen. First, there's the logistics of those two having sex. And since that's a problem, it's a good excuse. Problem solved. There's no way they're having sex. Can't imagine it.
In any case, this week has otherwise been pretty boring. I've mostly sat around this place, taking in the whole lot of nothing going on. Still no roommate yet. Just me having my own personal Monster Ball. Knowing my luck I'll end up with some kind of prude who disapproves of my kind of sexcapades.
I did talk to my mom last night. Why not follow disappointment on disappointment? They let her talk to me now since I'm now eighteen, so now I get to talk to her and find out what prison life is like. How fun! She got to get all skinny to become someone's prison bitch. Damn idiot. I wouldn't talk to her at all if my aunt didn't tell me that I'd regret it one day if I didn't. Well, maybe that's true, and maybe it's not. I don't know if you'd say I regret talking to her when I do, but I certainly don't miss her voice when I don't. She has several years to go yet, and then who knows what will happen. Then I'll have to deal with her in person. Shit. Now that's depressing.
Donna called me this morning. She has called me every day since I met her. We're going to go to this place called Fox & Hound tonight, which she says is a sports bar, but that they have food, so I can probably go. I guess we'll see. She says her boyfriend won't be along, which is fine with me. His name is Vance. What kind of name is Vance? I mean, are you trying to make your son gay, calling him Vance? Yes, I know he's dating Donna, but I just can't believe he's not a closet queen. First, there's the logistics of those two having sex. And since that's a problem, it's a good excuse. Problem solved. There's no way they're having sex. Can't imagine it.
In any case, this week has otherwise been pretty boring. I've mostly sat around this place, taking in the whole lot of nothing going on. Still no roommate yet. Just me having my own personal Monster Ball. Knowing my luck I'll end up with some kind of prude who disapproves of my kind of sexcapades.
I did talk to my mom last night. Why not follow disappointment on disappointment? They let her talk to me now since I'm now eighteen, so now I get to talk to her and find out what prison life is like. How fun! She got to get all skinny to become someone's prison bitch. Damn idiot. I wouldn't talk to her at all if my aunt didn't tell me that I'd regret it one day if I didn't. Well, maybe that's true, and maybe it's not. I don't know if you'd say I regret talking to her when I do, but I certainly don't miss her voice when I don't. She has several years to go yet, and then who knows what will happen. Then I'll have to deal with her in person. Shit. Now that's depressing.
Monday, August 15, 2011
New Friend
Today at Starbucks (I've decided to go first thing in the morning, when it's not so hot and you can actually sit outside for a while) I ended up talking with this woman named Donna who has to be somewhere between four and five hundred pounds and whose breasts have to be twice the size of my head, but who seems nice enough. She's a senior nursing student and she has this boyfriend with a flip of bleached blond hair across his right eye who I would have sworn was gay had she not introduced him as her boyfriend. My guess is that he's a hundred pounds. They both looked to be about five-nine. She said she lives in the UTD apartments, and we exchanged phone numbers and addresses, so we'll probably see each other around there. To be honest, I'm a bit jealous that she's getting laid by him -- right now, I'd take a big queen like him over nothing.
Other than that, there hasn't been much going on around here. I don't know my way around, and I really don't want to get lost, so I've stayed close. I went to the Tom Thumb and got some groceries. They had a lot of pretty flowers there on the right, as you walk in. I have no idea what most of them were. I went right and got some turkey and cheese from the deli, then went on to get some tomatoes, lettuce, oranges, grapefruit, and pears. I also got some soup, chips, and bread. That should tide me over for a while. I needed to have something around here so I'm not going out to eat all the time, which is what I was doing. The Whataburger is pretty good, though. Never heard of them before, but I've heard they're popular around here.
I managed to get my books up on the book shelves here in the apartment, and my C.D.'s stored away. Yes, I still have a few C.D.'s, even though I also have my iPod and all my songs stored there and on my computer. Everything in this place is white, or really, cream-colored. A little kitchen area and two bedrooms off the main living room where, apparently, we're also supposed to eat. Go-go college living!
I talked to my aunt and uncle yesterday. They said Vicky's doing fine. I talked to her too -- she of course mostly just babbled, but it was good to hear her voice. I miss her, though I'm really glad I'm here. I'll be able to get a good job and take her away with me. But I'll be able to have my own life here, too -- and I'll be able to do things I couldn't do with a child in the house. Is it terrible that I look forward to that? When I was living with my mom, I fucked practically every boy in school, but when I had to move in with my aunt and uncle, well, things changed. I don't want to go into all that here. I need me a boyfriend. Or two. Or three. I like the nerdier ones -- nobody wants them, they're hornier than hell, and they all know what they're doing (the jocks are so into themselves, they don't have a clue what they're doing: the goal is the thing). Sure, you have to put up with Star Wars and Star Trek and Dungeons and Dragons and anime (I have seen some really weird anime shit, let me tell you! -- and guys, just to let you know, most girls are not going to stick around after they have seen your anime movie of the school girls being raped by an alien tentacle monster whose tentacles would in real life rip a woman in half!) and World of Warcraft, but they are enthusiastic about getting you in bed, that's for sure. I should do fine. What's more nerdier than college?
What? My phone's ringing? Oh, it's Donna. Let's see what's up with her. Maybe I can go do something this afternoon with her or something.
Other than that, there hasn't been much going on around here. I don't know my way around, and I really don't want to get lost, so I've stayed close. I went to the Tom Thumb and got some groceries. They had a lot of pretty flowers there on the right, as you walk in. I have no idea what most of them were. I went right and got some turkey and cheese from the deli, then went on to get some tomatoes, lettuce, oranges, grapefruit, and pears. I also got some soup, chips, and bread. That should tide me over for a while. I needed to have something around here so I'm not going out to eat all the time, which is what I was doing. The Whataburger is pretty good, though. Never heard of them before, but I've heard they're popular around here.
I managed to get my books up on the book shelves here in the apartment, and my C.D.'s stored away. Yes, I still have a few C.D.'s, even though I also have my iPod and all my songs stored there and on my computer. Everything in this place is white, or really, cream-colored. A little kitchen area and two bedrooms off the main living room where, apparently, we're also supposed to eat. Go-go college living!
I talked to my aunt and uncle yesterday. They said Vicky's doing fine. I talked to her too -- she of course mostly just babbled, but it was good to hear her voice. I miss her, though I'm really glad I'm here. I'll be able to get a good job and take her away with me. But I'll be able to have my own life here, too -- and I'll be able to do things I couldn't do with a child in the house. Is it terrible that I look forward to that? When I was living with my mom, I fucked practically every boy in school, but when I had to move in with my aunt and uncle, well, things changed. I don't want to go into all that here. I need me a boyfriend. Or two. Or three. I like the nerdier ones -- nobody wants them, they're hornier than hell, and they all know what they're doing (the jocks are so into themselves, they don't have a clue what they're doing: the goal is the thing). Sure, you have to put up with Star Wars and Star Trek and Dungeons and Dragons and anime (I have seen some really weird anime shit, let me tell you! -- and guys, just to let you know, most girls are not going to stick around after they have seen your anime movie of the school girls being raped by an alien tentacle monster whose tentacles would in real life rip a woman in half!) and World of Warcraft, but they are enthusiastic about getting you in bed, that's for sure. I should do fine. What's more nerdier than college?
What? My phone's ringing? Oh, it's Donna. Let's see what's up with her. Maybe I can go do something this afternoon with her or something.
Friday, August 12, 2011
100 Degree Streak Broken
It cooled off enough to break the 100 streak before the record was broken. Can't say I'm unhappy about that. Still hotter than Hell outside. Still, I'm already bored around this place. Going to Starbucks to read.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Freaking Strange Conversation at Starbucks!
Okay, seriously, I just heard the strangest crap. You wouldn't believe it, but I swear to God it's true. I overheard these two guys talking at the Starbucks, and it was crazy. I have a pretty good memory, so I think I can reproduce it, more or less. Let me see. The one was already there. He had blond highlights and some tribal tattoo on his bicep. The other one came in dressed in a tux. He had one of those fauxhawks and some black-rimmed glasses. The epitome of fashion, let me tell you. But seriously, let me tell you what they said to each other:
"My, My. Aren't you well-dressed? Where did you go that called for you to wear a tuxedo?"
"I just came from a funeral. And what a funny funeral it was. A gut . . . Well, maybe gut-buster is really not appropriate, considering. A lot of people there were laughing, that's for sure."
"A funny funeral?" Who would endure a bunch of people laughing when the one they love is dead? It's not the time for fun. Why wear a tux? It doesn't seem you should."
The guy actually lifted his tails to sit in the brown wood chair.
"If you'd have been there, you'd have understood. I had a really good time there, and so did all who came. The laughter made us glow."
"Who died?"
"Uh, you don't know? It's Bob. He died a couple days ago. He'd not abide a funeral for him that wasn't formal.
"I swear to you that boy was never normal."
"The invitations were R.S.V.P. I am surprised you weren't invited. Tea and cakes -- a British theme. Alex was there, but Carlos wasn't. They'd make quite a pair."
"Well, Bob was mad at me. Oh well. I hope that Alex and that cutie Carlos -- you know that he's cute, don't look at me that way -- will work out well. But now you have to say how Bob could have a funny funeral."
"Well, there were two thing there for you to mull. One, he was wearing a pink boa and a bra. And two, he did not have a strand of flesh left on his bones."
"Excuse me, what?"
"Beside the boas, bra, and orchid, but a skeleton was in the coffin. Cracked me up to see it and all those who backed off when they saw it, too. I laughed so hard . . ."
"That's sick. I love it. Wish I'd got a card. That was his sense of humor, though. How did he die? What happened? You sure kept a lid on this."
"It wasn't me, my dear. We had to keep it secret. Thank his mom and dad."
"I see. So why a secret? How'd his life end?"
"By being badly beaten by his boyfriend. A whipping accident. Loved S and M."
"Well, so do I. But you know when to stem the strokes. And with the wax and clamps and beads and bites, I lived and you still met my needs."
"I guess his boyfriend went a bit too far. You really ought to stop before you mar the skin. I know that pain can turn you on, but when you kill a man, you're too far gone."
"At least he died a happy man."
"That's true. Oh, what a beating! Makes me want to do some nasty things to you. You up for it?
The guy who was there first stood up, then he said:
"I cannot wait to feel the first blow hit."
Then the guy in the tux stood, they put their arms around each other, the guy in the tux grabbed the other guy's ass, and they left.
Where the hell did I just move to? I've seen and heard some pretty strange shit in New York, but nothing like this. I thought this was the Bible Belt. Why did the guy have no flesh? How did he do that?
"My, My. Aren't you well-dressed? Where did you go that called for you to wear a tuxedo?"
"I just came from a funeral. And what a funny funeral it was. A gut . . . Well, maybe gut-buster is really not appropriate, considering. A lot of people there were laughing, that's for sure."
"A funny funeral?" Who would endure a bunch of people laughing when the one they love is dead? It's not the time for fun. Why wear a tux? It doesn't seem you should."
The guy actually lifted his tails to sit in the brown wood chair.
"If you'd have been there, you'd have understood. I had a really good time there, and so did all who came. The laughter made us glow."
"Who died?"
"Uh, you don't know? It's Bob. He died a couple days ago. He'd not abide a funeral for him that wasn't formal.
"I swear to you that boy was never normal."
"The invitations were R.S.V.P. I am surprised you weren't invited. Tea and cakes -- a British theme. Alex was there, but Carlos wasn't. They'd make quite a pair."
"Well, Bob was mad at me. Oh well. I hope that Alex and that cutie Carlos -- you know that he's cute, don't look at me that way -- will work out well. But now you have to say how Bob could have a funny funeral."
"Well, there were two thing there for you to mull. One, he was wearing a pink boa and a bra. And two, he did not have a strand of flesh left on his bones."
"Excuse me, what?"
"Beside the boas, bra, and orchid, but a skeleton was in the coffin. Cracked me up to see it and all those who backed off when they saw it, too. I laughed so hard . . ."
"That's sick. I love it. Wish I'd got a card. That was his sense of humor, though. How did he die? What happened? You sure kept a lid on this."
"It wasn't me, my dear. We had to keep it secret. Thank his mom and dad."
"I see. So why a secret? How'd his life end?"
"By being badly beaten by his boyfriend. A whipping accident. Loved S and M."
"Well, so do I. But you know when to stem the strokes. And with the wax and clamps and beads and bites, I lived and you still met my needs."
"I guess his boyfriend went a bit too far. You really ought to stop before you mar the skin. I know that pain can turn you on, but when you kill a man, you're too far gone."
"At least he died a happy man."
"That's true. Oh, what a beating! Makes me want to do some nasty things to you. You up for it?
The guy who was there first stood up, then he said:
"I cannot wait to feel the first blow hit."
Then the guy in the tux stood, they put their arms around each other, the guy in the tux grabbed the other guy's ass, and they left.
Where the hell did I just move to? I've seen and heard some pretty strange shit in New York, but nothing like this. I thought this was the Bible Belt. Why did the guy have no flesh? How did he do that?
In Dallas!
I can't believe I'm actually in Dallas. Well, Richardson, really. Thank God (if I believed in her) I'm out of Patchogue -- even if I will miss my Vicky, who I left with her father so I could come here to go to college. She has such pretty blue eyes and black hair. I'll miss those long curls! She looks just like me and her dad. She should be fine until I'm finished with college. Don't know what I'm going to major in yet, but whatever. I'll figure something out sooner or later.
UT-Dallas is a weird university. No real dorms, just these apartments that are sort of like dorms, but not really. I'm supposed to have a roommate, but she hasn't shown up yet. I'm way early. Hope she's cool. But the university has all these ugly buildings that all look the same. And it's hot! Dear God it's hot! And no end in sight of these hundreds. I don't know if I can stand it. I'm staying inside until it gets cool. Or at least tolerable. Looks a little overcast right now. Maybe it will rain. Surely that will cool things off a bit.
I haven't seen many boys around here. Too early, I guess. If the men are as hot as the temperatures around here, I can see myself doing a lot of sweating!
I think I'm going to the Starbucks. There's one close by here. What I really need to do is go grocery shopping. I think there's one near the Starbucks. I need to spend some time looking around this place instead of setting up blogs, I guess! I wonder if there are any nightclubs for people under 21 around here. I guess I'll have to do a little online browsing and see what I can find. With a city as big as Dallas, surely there's a great nightlife. I need to do some partying! No baby and no aunt and uncle keeping me at home, so why not?
In any case, I'm off to the Starbucks. I could use a caramel frappuccino. I have this cool Carole Maso novel I want to read. Well, I guess The Art Lover isn't really new, but it's new to me. The wind is picking up outside. I think I'll take my umbrella, just in case.
UT-Dallas is a weird university. No real dorms, just these apartments that are sort of like dorms, but not really. I'm supposed to have a roommate, but she hasn't shown up yet. I'm way early. Hope she's cool. But the university has all these ugly buildings that all look the same. And it's hot! Dear God it's hot! And no end in sight of these hundreds. I don't know if I can stand it. I'm staying inside until it gets cool. Or at least tolerable. Looks a little overcast right now. Maybe it will rain. Surely that will cool things off a bit.
I haven't seen many boys around here. Too early, I guess. If the men are as hot as the temperatures around here, I can see myself doing a lot of sweating!
I think I'm going to the Starbucks. There's one close by here. What I really need to do is go grocery shopping. I think there's one near the Starbucks. I need to spend some time looking around this place instead of setting up blogs, I guess! I wonder if there are any nightclubs for people under 21 around here. I guess I'll have to do a little online browsing and see what I can find. With a city as big as Dallas, surely there's a great nightlife. I need to do some partying! No baby and no aunt and uncle keeping me at home, so why not?
In any case, I'm off to the Starbucks. I could use a caramel frappuccino. I have this cool Carole Maso novel I want to read. Well, I guess The Art Lover isn't really new, but it's new to me. The wind is picking up outside. I think I'll take my umbrella, just in case.
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