Two nights ago-- bevy of Scots, who were men, my finding out what aquaboard is from them as they fought over the basic definition, its specifications, manly arguments, burly burls, rum & coke, rum & coke, blah blah, beer, pint, beer, beer, pint, beer, pinkie promises made with a Scot . . .blah, blah, stripper bar, signed stripper poster dropped off at Bulford’s and Xavier’s late at night for them to find in the morning (I'm a freak), Evo for dancing, blah, blah. Men bustin' caps over me, blah blah, ended up breaking the pinkie promise for my own ends and finished things off by doing coke with a Bostonian of Puerto Rican descent. Oh, and learned how to play G Major on the guitar. Also learned that A minor is usually a natural progression from it. But, who knows if that’s true. The coke was good, though. And so is the massive Puerto Rican hickie on my neck. What wasn't so awesome was the Puerto Rican BEGGING me to stay longer at his place: please stay! Please don't go! Please don't go! But, it actually was kind of awesome. When is being begged by a floundering co-dependent who just WANTS A BIGGER TV AND BETTER GAME SYSTEM not awesome? God, I lie, I so lied earlier. This is boring. God, my life is boring. I’m bored. haha! Moral of the story is: I USE MEN LIKE NOBODY’S BIZZ-NASS, BITCH. I adore, ADORE this stage of caring less about any of them, high low or to the motherfucking side. I seriously feel no sense of attachment right now in the romantic sense. Though the Romantic sense is something entirely different. & all because of a little plastic, pink-eyed beaver. Beaver Bring Luck--v. much like Mink Bring Joy. This is only for starters. The real story is that I'm a total bitch and am all too comfortable with it.
Posted by caroline at June 23, 2005 6:54 PM