cheerleaders showed up last night. ready to rock.
i got the boombox out of the bathroom and brought it into the guest bedroom cuz the girls like to make a mess wherever we happen to be.
i lit candles and closed the windows as the ladies climbed into their outfits.
the party started. i chose the jesus and mary chain-esque Ravonettes as the music for the evening. rocking, but mellow, romantic yet with an edge. copycat, but a fair copy. im open minded. i forgive.
soon we were all twisted and upsidedown and backwards and heavy into it. quickly i was happy that i had locked the windows because it became loud and i get nervous about my neighbors thinking that either someone is being killed or that im watching an adult film at a high volume. for some reason i do care what they think. yes, im nuts.
sheets were ripped off the corners of the mattress, pillows hurled, clothes damaged, scratch marks created, posters injured, rhythms established.
after awhile i was working on just one of the ladies, concentrating, creating, being one with the energy, breathing, etc. while the other ran out for some whipped cream and restraints.
we had a little thing happening. a good thing. i would be more descriptive but confidences would be abused. lets just say that everything was going wonderfully.
and then the cd skipped
and then it skipped again.
then it gave that modern dududududududududu sound.
it threw me.
she whispered how good it felt.
chicks never pay attention to the rock.
i tried to refocus on her which i did for a sec but i couldnt
damn cd. it would get hung up for a sec and then pause, make it to the next measure and get stuck again. the most hideous sounds.
my girl didnt care. she was seeing stars. she was hooked on a feeling. she was barely legal and nearly there.
thanks to the absinthe i wasnt anywhere near there so when it became obvious that the cd needed to go to the next track i climbed off and hit the forward button and returned to the scene of the slime.
my cheerleader wasnt at all pleased as she caught her breath.
sorry baby, that was killing me, i told her.
i hate you she said and dug her pearly whites into my neck and we went back at it.
her cousin soon returned and everything went very nicely until the post game interviews when she told the press that she hated the fact that i paused and left her stranded right on the peak of mt. olympus to mess with the stupid cd. i explained that i thought she was being as distracted as i was.
she said, fuckhead, did i seem distracted? color still on her flushed cheeks.
and if i dont wire my guest room to accept the mp3 feed from my 400mhz computer im a dumbass.
even though im one anyway.