because im in chopper one most of the day

people sit in my chair at my desk while im gone.

i find that rude.

where a man rests his ass should be sacred.

hot chick called me last night and wanted to talk dirty. i was cleaning up my house and wasnt in the mood. she said, come on tony youre usually great at this.

true, but i was preparing my casa for my virgin date tonight. so the conversation moved over to the haters in my comment box.

i told her that i have pretty good spidey senses and i can generally tell when theres an idiot leaving a dumbfuck comment, or a borderline fan who just wants attention and the other day it was the later so i didnt care.

she said what about the cub fans who are saying youre totally wrong about shawn green?

i said, sammy sosa, hottie, not shawn green. shawn green is a dodger. was a dodger.

she was all, im wearing your favorite stockings.

i said, people are free to have their opinions about sammy, id prefer that they wouldnt be so amazingly wrong about it but whatever, half this country voted for a chimp and would do it again. why do you think i drink so much rum?

she was all, how come you never clean up before i come over.

i said, cuz you just throw me on the bed and start biting too hard on my chest.

she was like, hahaha yeah.

the french doors were open and the wind blew the thin curtains over my balcony. a nightingale sang sweet songs of longing and a generator kicked on next to the trailerhome.

down the road an old vw bug accelorated squeakingly and the cheerleader whispered all the things that a dark knight my age would like to hear on a dark night in hollywood.

i listened closely and scooped dreyers girl scout thin mint ice cream into a large bowl

i want you tony she said

i searched for the hot chocolate in my cluttered fridge and found it

dont you want me

shook up a can of whipped cream that had no nitrous left in it

and a little spray of watery cream leaked out

and i said of course i do baby but i have to go now.

she said wait.

but it was too late.

and upstairs i heard the french doors slam shut.

and the frightened nightingale flutter away.

headache grey + raspil + sk smith