Once upon a time I was walking through a park with a dumb little cunt, and when I paused to throw away a napkin, I snapped a photo of her. She noticed my movement out of the corner of her eye.… Read the rest “”
Tag: memories
Every significant person in my life, at least once in 2018:
“Who are you?”
What’s funny is that half of them are old people wondering what the fuck I’m becoming, and the other other half are new people, wondering how the fuck I could have been anything else.
Things I’ve Had To Explain Lately
- Who or what a “Fonzie” is.
- That Javier Bardem and Joaquin Phoenix are, in fact, two different people.
Well, that took a while.
People tend to be surprised when I tell them my follower count; I guess my mind-share is greater than my attachment, or whatever bullshit the marketing kids are saying these days. In fairness to the blog, I did hobble it’s early growth by getting picky about what I’ll reblog, and compounded that by moving away from samey-same porn captions; there’s only so much of that shit I can write without imploding into self-parody.… Read the rest “”
Dumb Moves That Got Me Laid
In 1993, I called a girl and left a five minute long message on her answering machine while doing an impression of Gary Oldman in Dracula. Her roommate told her she had a message by saying, “Are you tutoring a Romanian guy now?… Read the rest “Dumb Moves That Got Me Laid”
Since emerging from my latest depression-chrysalis earlier this year, I’ve been trying to be a little more open with people. Girl-people, anyway. And since this is inevitably going to lead to a person or two getting a look at me and my life, I decided to give my online identity a once-over for the first time in years.… Read the rest “”
My local ice cream truck just drove by playing When the Saints Go Marching In.
And I feel like the apocalypse is an odd pairing with frozen treats and eager children.
I once sat on a couch in a rented townhouse playing Wii Sports with a skinny psychology major fifteen years my junior whom I’d known for a little over a day, and as we swatted polygonal tennis balls at one another, we spontaneously launched into an hours-long conversation about kinky sex and serial killers.… Read the rest “”
The wait isn’t always worth it.
Poor bitch was waiting four fucking years to talk to me, with countless hours of squirming thinking about how it might go. All that desperate longing-at-a-distance, dreaming of what I might be like. Setting herself up for some kind of transcendental experience when she finally had me in her ear.… Read the rest “The wait isn’t always worth it.”
The Watch
She insists on sleeping on the couch because I’m up for the night, and she doesn’t want to be a whole room away. So I make up a pallet for her, putting down a sheet, tracking down her favorite blanket, and fluffing up her pillow.… Read the rest “The Watch”