I went and lay down. I think I slept. Not sure. I still had the lube smeared on my hand, when I woke up. Poor effort. I must have drifted straight off to sleep. I rubbed my face, as soon as my eyes cracked open and slimed myself, right across my right cheek.
Er! What the?
I came downstairs and put the TV on and vegged. A blanket wrapped around me snug. I've slept for hours, on the couch, it's practically midnight. Funniest Home Videos, is all I remember. I hate that show.
If I'd had more e's, I'd have gone out tonight, right about now, actually. To pull a root... boy in the grey t-shirt. (I taught the Americans on Mykonos what root meant, they had no idea. Hey mate, do you wana root, they'd say with a drawl, all over the island. ) It's been a while, with someone other than Manny.
One thing American boys are really good at, I've mostly found. Energetic and hung for it. Italians and Americans, they've got the biggest dicks. They have! (said with a Crescendoing whine)
I think I'm okay, no damage done. Nothing permanent - you know, waking up after a drug night and looking in the mirror to see you have a bad case of Bell's Palsy. It's a life long fear. I'm a bit groggy (granny dear) and have a nice case of tinnitus, just gently, way back there some where. More high-pitched than a hum. Ringing, I'd almost call it ringing. But everything else is good. I'm drinking vodka and tonic.
I smoked all the pot, that Tom left me, early (mixed with tobacco, sure) but I haven't had one cigarette, which must count for something. I guess that's why I feel so healthy, not smoked out. The fires of hell aren't seeping up my throat and out my mouth, every time I talk - faint wafts of smoke as I dot my t's.
The TV's on music videos... the safest way to endure Saturday night teev.
Missy is stomping around her food bowl, ever time I go into the kitchen. It's chicken wings tonight, Missy's got the pussy shits on, she wont even look at me. And this would be? She glared at me, just before her ears went flat on her head.
But Missy, you've got to clean those teeth.
She'll sneak back later, when I'm not looking, to have a munch.
I just kicked her in the dark, as I went to get my coffee off the stove. She's not happy about that, either.
Proof of life is on. Russell Crowe and Meg Ryan are two boring as bat shit actors.
One minute to tomorrow. I should go lay down.
Manny did call. We talked dirty with each other, in the afternoon. I'm such an idiot! I should have realised. (the sad truth is that I didn't notice) I know what a paranoid hypochondriac Manny is when it comes to his health. The fungal infection on my tongue, it would have, apparently did, send him into a spin. It's why I haven't seen him.
Three coffees and it's time for bed. It's the wrong side of midnight.
(strangely, I feel like McDonald's, which I never, hardly ever, eat, 'cause I don't like it much. But my diets been pretty much in the toilet this last few weeks, so I'm not surprised, really)
Bowie sings, Major Tom
4 comments:
It's 11:30 pm in Lisbon right now. Guess you're up again. Sunday morning in Melbourne. My Saturday was a smooth one. Lots of music, lots of writing, lots of surfing the net. Went out for cigarettes and a nice cup of coffee. Met a friend and chatted until 8:00.
As I guess I said before, it's understandable that Manny may be freaking out. Perhaps you should try to reassure him. After all he's still a boy with a m.-f.cking burden on his shoulders...
As for you, I confess I'm glad you've got nothing left to amuse you with. Tough I feel for you, because of you not having «pulled a root» (fine metaphor!). Yeah, yeah, the grey t-shirt, sure.
Reading your post reminded me of some less orthodox nights I used to «go through» not that long ago. Time goes by, and you readjust your needs, wishes, and desires, that's all, I guess. As far as I'm concerned, I know I'll be fine as long as I don't feel like sleeping for hours, night or day.
Hope tou're enjoying your Sunday. Wish you the best!
Manny's a what? "a boy with a...?"
Sleep for hours? I so wish I could sleep for hours, or at least, sleep in for hours, in the morning. I woke at 8am and have tossed and turned, wished for more sleep, but alas, I had to give in and get up.
I would have only amused myself for a little bit. Oh, who am I kidding. I don't do it very often now.
As I get older, the angst goes out of "the want" to do something and needs are so easily, and without drama, changed. But, as all my friends say, I'm such a chilled person anyway, always have been, that I've always been able to stop, breath and take stock and go with the new flow, without any trouble.
I hope your Sunday is sublime too, my friend.
i) Sorry! Grammar fault: I meant «motherf...er burden».
ii) Thank YOU, Christian. Maybe I'm going to the movies...
iii) That's really good that you may turn on and off according to your will. I'm not like that at all. I wish I were. Even if cold rationally I recognize and admit I'm doing something wrong, sooner or later I'll be carried away by my senses, a passion, a crush, whatever. And the outcome has rather seldom been a good one...
Yeah, that's me.
Nice being around!
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