fuckit if its toxic.
clippergirl came over last night tipsy from tanguery late late like two am. i had just finished a web site for my beautiful and amazing young attorney. not really finished but definitely phase one had been completed and i felt good about it.
parts were even funny. those will have to be taken out, of course, but maybe we can do something interesting with it.
clippergirl laid on my couch in some superstretch denim jeans that fit her like theyd been tailored. often im amazed at the things that i get to see live and in person and if i could take pictures every day for you, one every hour, then i think youd understand when sometimes i think that the angels all like to huddle above me and just toss unbelievable things at me and see if they can get me to show any form of real emotion what so ever.
i snap my fingers when im super into it while gambling.
that’s pretty wild, i suppose.
anyhow she was laying there just playing with the tassels of her wild west vest and i asked her about guys with tongue piercings.
have you ever kissed a guy with a tongue pierce?
yes. three guys.
what was it like?
the first time was amazing, the second one was okay and the third one after a while i was all, can you just take that out?
then i asked her if oral was better and she said no.
i said, doesn’t it add to the stimulation?
she said, the tongue can stimulate just fine.
jay z was on winamp.
she didn’t care that i had dishes that were melting in its own stink.
she didn’t care that there was a pink box sitting on a chair in the corner with one big slice left of chocolate mousse cake and two forks stuck in it.
she didn’t care that they were out of tequila, that rum would do the trick.
now sahara hotnights was on the winamp.
two forty four am and he thought that he really oughtta go to sleep and then he thought that it pretty much sucks that he’s tied to job that he cant stay up all night if he wanted to with a pretty girl with boots and bows in her hair who walked back into the front room with a pitcher of coke, a bottle of rum, and two clear glass tumblers and a box of wheat thins.
he had some cheese that he wasn’t sure if she had seen, but there it was under her arm and she waited for him to clear a spot on the coffee table jay z was back on it was getting close to three in the morning. he could do this. the cheese was soft cuz he had just picked it up for no reason. he had no idea she was coming over. sometimes he forgot that he had a terrific life and even though he had a great weekend he thought his week would find him alone and lonely and stressed out over making the web site look decent.
but no. once again he was wrong. wrong as always. wrong as sin. wrong as george bush giving people who own suvs a huge tax break.
everything was going to be all right.
just like always.
just like it’ll always be.
just like it’s meant to be.
and the new neighbors next door had their bullshit turned up just a little too loud, but that didn’t bother us.
and their dog barking and barking and barking, mostly at crickets or wolves or any number of the wild life that you can find up in these hills didn’t bother us either.
and soon it was three thirty.
and then it was four.
an unseasonably warm evening we were having, i even had a window open which blew the candle around frantically casting dancing shadows across the framed drawing of jimi hendrix over the fireplace.
air was on and i asked her what she wished she was doing right that minute other than what she was doing right then and she said
i wish i was floating on a blowup raft in an overheated pool
with one hand dangling in the almost toohot water.