outside my house watching people walk past and look into the two seater. i wonder what people think when they see two people making out in a nice car. i know what id be thinkinging, id be thinking, i wonder if i come back in ten minutes will they be effing. but thats me, mr vegas. life doesnt imitate porn, politics does.
we had spent the warm sunday afternoon on hollywood blvd., namely a pizza joint named two guys from sicilly. it was an old fashioned parlour where the oven and register were right by the front door, and as you walked past that were a dozen little tables, a juke box, and a back area with booths and video games.
we went back there cuz it was dark and the paparazzi wouldnt be so bold. also, i like the dark.
ordered a large everything with peperoni and sausage on one side, and cokes. two punk rockers shot away at area 51 and i sat across the table from her for about two seconds and i said want me to sit over there with you and she nodded her head.
and stared in her eyes and said why are you here. dont you know the evil thats inside of me, the darkness, the filth, the wickedness, the slut. later we would go into sephora at hollywood and highland and see a woman wearing a black im blogging this tshirt but she lies. and my girlfriend said i like you, youre funny.
and i wispered what i wanted to do with her there in that dark back room and she laughed out loud startling the kids shooting at aliens and she said youre violent and i asked am i?
walked over to the jukebox and put on pink floyd breath, doors break on thru, vh and the cradle will rock, marley two little birds, zeppelin immigrant song, elvis costello watching the detectives, and acdc hells bells. how is it that i can remember that but i still havent memorized her phone number.
stolled down the dirty blvd and i showed her the rock shirts and she said how come so many shirts have that symbol on it and i said thats the devil star, that upsidedown thing. she said why. i said theyre just kidding. she looked at me like she didnt believe me.
i asked to see the iron maiden shirts. the man said what size are you, i told him and he showed me one shirt, then another. i was unsure. i said aloud that every man should have a maiden shirt in his wardrobe and i almost walked out with a short sleeved the trooper but caught my eye on a long sleeve killers thats big on me but sometimes you wanna look sloppy and stoned.
we have no business being together i thought at thrifty in los feliz as we walked around the store licking icecream cones and laughing; holding hands and taking our time through the aisles
cuz she didnt want to leave me and i didnt want her to go.