Thursday, April 26, 2012
3 posts in less than 6 months, what can be going on with me? I'm bored as fuck and have a few hours to kill so may as well do it here. I can't find anyone online to antagonize, which is a shame. I especially like be shitty to my best home girl Anna Banana because she's such a freakin fruitcake. Nothing better than being bothersome from multiple states away, it's like poking her with a stick, long distance. Oh blow me, it's done out of love.
I heard she came to defend my honor but pretty much took her and Laura's word for it, as I'm done fucking around with a bunch of retarded-ass comments, for the time being. Maybe in a few months I'll feel confrontational enough to launch a full scale assault but for now...fuck all ya'll, I couldn't give a shit less.
I burned a huge damn hole in my wrist and am still kinda surprised that I never felt it but then again, maybe I'm not. Scorching your flesh down through a few layers tends to wake you up, no matter how loaded you are but perhaps I've crossed over into a whole other plane of fucked-up-ed-ness. Or I was technically OD'd and just happened to wake up before that pesky respiratory distress had time to really take hold. I thought I was over getting that high but it looks like it's making a comeback. Just like moi. Don't call it a comeback etc etc..
Lets have a moment of silence for the 2 boys that were shot in the yard of someone I know for no particular reason. Oh except that they were black. *sigh* The stupidity of that whole situation kinda speaks for itself, so I won't flog it here. I will say he (shooter) is a jerk off and someone shoulda put him in the dirt eons ago but what‘s it matter? Boys are still dead. Enjoy prison genius, hope it was worth it just coz you don't like black guys. Moron.
My other best girl came to visit me a couple weeks ago and it was a pretty interesting 12 days. Francis tried his considerable charms on her, only to be brutally rebuffed. Partially due to the misfortune of his having been up for something like 5 days. Plus he bore a striking resemblance to spegakked chicken every time he opened his mouth, fairly sure that didn't help him out either.
Oh and about that...his meth breath of death nearly brought Ms K1tten to her knees and not in the way he'd been anticipating. I was a little geeked myself and pretty much stayed perched atop the couch arm tending to my glassware the entire night, but even from there I was able to thoroughly enjoy the show.
She attempted to render the spot next to her as narrow and uninviting as possible, but that only served to make him squeeze in closer and inadvertently blow fetid gusts of poop mouth up her nostrils. Combine that with what he evidently thought was sexy spanglish wooing and you have some serious entertainment.
I half heartedly tried to intervene but it was made difficult as I had to keep leaving the room to laugh hysterically. Like a geeked hyena.
At one point I ran smack into her in the kitchen, she was in mid-flight to the bathroom. She stopped long enough to frantically whisper, "Melody! His breath smells like he's been eating dogshit...A LOT!!!" then saw him hot on her trail and proceeded to lock herself in the john. I almost urinated right there, I was laughing so hard; it was just too much for my over-stimulated brain to handle.
Francis smacked his pasted lips and looked at me like I was losing my mind, then proceeded to set up camp outside the door to ply his charms via keyhole. For a moment I thought she might attempt to exit out the window but he eventually got distracted by a phone call.
The second volley of suitors included Smash, who tried a whole different tactic. He was very polite and sweet and slightly helpless. It played on her mothering instincts, especially when he turned blue and we had to slap the shit out of him. She patiently walked him all around the house until he got his color back and then I left to go entertain Casey in the other room. We could hear them cooing to each other and thought things were going quite well until S made a fatal misstep and said, "I just don't wanna get off on the wrong foot, in case there's a chance of a relationship..." You could practically hear her cringe and it was all over from there.
We crossed paths in the hallway later that morning and she had accumulated quit a list of annoyances which she capped off by saying, "Not to be a bitch or anything, but I think it's time Smash WENT THE FUCK HOME." We made it happen as soon as possible, mostly for his sake because any longer and she would've kicked him in the face and crammed his chain smoking head in the toilet. Don't fuck with Ms K1tty and sure as hell don't mention the word 'relationship' less than 6 hours after you've first laid eyes on her, hahaha. Poor Smash.
I was inordinately short of meth-head mexican gang bangers at the time, probably on account of I don't really hangout with that many. I mean, there's a few but Adrian is white, R-man is a half-breed (like Cher) and MK may wish otherwise but he's the whitest wannabe Mexican you ever saw, though he's as pretty as a Sunday insert for Abercrombie and Fitch. But yeah I guess there's a few beaners lurking about, haha, me for instance.
I also think you all are underestimating just how hard it is to get along with 'methhead gang bangers'. I mean really! I know I make it seem effortless but come on. If you're ever burdened with my mouthiness, surrounded by individuals who may or may not be armed and may or may not be nursing a bout of meth psychosis, then we can talk.
But all that is old news and having had somewhat of an eventful, yet totally retarded week, I've decided to lay some shit out here in the open. Mainly because writing it down helps me to get it all straightened out in my head and it's not like there's anything I can say that could make y'all think less of me than you already do. As if that even registers.
I'm just going through one of these grrr-kinda periods in my life where things are way more complicated than I care for. Yes it's 99% my fault but that's not really the point, the point is that I need to get stuff clear in my own mind, so I can then get it untwisted in my day to day and move on. Spring cleaning, if you will.
Now anyone who has been keeping up knows that I had a minor thing happening with Richie. It falls into the category of mild flirtations and though it could've easily gotten icky, it never really did and probably never will. I'll attribute this to Rich being even more of a sociopath-in-training than I am and no matter what kind of spiel he tried to lay on me, deep down we both knew he was full of shit. He might like me, he may even love me but not in a way that complicates things. He tries to see how far he can push me and likes it when I push back, it's a mutual tease and I can get into that as long as it's not constant. His forcible, then permanent relocation to Colorado has made it extremely easy to deal with, so I can check him off the list and proceed.
Next is Adrian *sigh* and that has evolved into something that most days I just try to forget about altogether. I have taken shameful advantage of his willingness to be next to me. Shameful. And I have no excuse for it at all. It's completely selfish and he doesn't deserve it but that's in no way new, I'm a very selfish person. With a few exceptions, I basically worry about numero uno. Me(an.)
Not counting MK, Adrian has had the most actual, physical contact with me and though it could be that I'm not all that amazing to grab onto, he seems to like it. Likes it to the point of letting me treat him with no more care than I would a life-sized teddy bear. It's not right. I know it's not, you know it's not and you can bet he knows exactly how fucked up it is...but he takes it anyway.
Example: I'm home alone, really high and feeling exceptionally warm and content. Adrian makes the mistake of calling and I tell him to come over and bring whatever he has to contribute. We get beautifully wasted and I spend half the night ignoring him while I nod/talk to someone else online and then I spend the other half of the night letting him wrap around me like a Velcro monkey. He has all the relevance of a body pillow and although I feel kinda bad, it's like what the fuck? Tell me to go die, where's your pride?
I did my best to warn him off not too long ago and he told me that he doesn't mind as long as he can be near me. Clearly he has no pride. And I know just how mean that sounds, I do! But he lets me get away with it and so I continue treating him like an inanimate place warmer.
I lay on the bed with my phone/laptop and talk to other homeboys/work while Adrian falls asleep against/around me. And it's not that easy to explain away a half conscious male body when I'm on Skype, lemme tell ya. Then when it's time for him to go, he goes. Sometimes earlier than necessary because although I like to look at him and I really don't hate fading in and out with him, the look in his eye makes me wanna black it for him. If it was just the self serving gleam of someone out to get laid, that would be okay but it's not; it's wounded and long suffering, miserable and hopeful all at the same time. It's that look the dogs have at the SPCA and I hate it.
Rather than feel badly about it, I'm actually kinda pissed at being forced to slog through his issues...Why oh why must I be so irresistible??? *sigh*
Haha, yeah yeah pooooooor Adrian but also POOR ME. I'm the one who's been so horribly deceived! Like I've said in the past, his outside doesn't match his inside. Had I known that Mr. Black Flag bars was harboring the tortured soul of a pallid emo youth, I would've stayed clear of the whole mess. Well...probably not, I mean he kinda had my number from the start, right?
Messy messy messy.
AND he had the nerve to get annoyed with me last night and slapped me (you WISH he'd slapped me), with the title 'Emotional Succubus' which might have annoyed me right back if A) I hadn't been falling a little more in love with it by the minute and B) been mildly shocked that he could pronounce succubus, much less define it.
SO I guess since I'm not meeting expectations and feeding off more the more traditional hell-bitch fare, I'm eating his emotions like some kind of goony psychic vampire you saw on a History channel documentary. Yeah, you know the one. Anywayyyyyyy.
Well reading back through this hasn't untwisted JACK but at least y'all get the benefit of feeling good about yourselves for not being me. My contribution to society, hope you appreciate that shit.