K

Okay baby. I'm completely trashed now. Been drinking cheap rum all
night. Its a good thing this doesn't go through the spell check. My
words would be completely toast. Forgive the spelling errors. Really I
try. Typing with thumbs when you can barely see is an accomplishment in
itself.
As usual. This is a sidekick post. Post modernist. Carlos says, tired
baby, tired, I love that. I always read some sick boys profile just to
see that. Tired baby tired. How much more profound can you get. I wish I
knew the book from which it came. I can barely breathe for my
drunkenness. I cannot feel my body. My face tingles. Sall copacetic.
I have been commiserating with this one girl. She has green eyes and a
killer mind. Green eyes turn me on. I don't know why. Her redeeming
quality was her eyes and they convinced me to stay on even as she fell
apart. But the new gal seems interested in me. We both regret that I
have only four weeks. Perhaps something beautiful could have happened.
It shows that things sometimes aren't fated. Lord she has a nice ass
though. Nice and curvy.
I almost fought a skinhead last week. He pressed against me and I
pressed back harder. The jew has some muscle. I a strong boy. The
sick boy pulled me away. Thank gd you didn't know he was a skinhead. I
would've fucked the mutherfucker. Its a good thing you didn't.
My vision blurs and blue eyes pages me. I tell her about the cane sugar
coke. Fuck the corn syup shit. She needs some cane sugar loving.
I miss the jamie. She love her and I want to talk to her. We are just
friends but she feels good in the dance just like the Robyn.
So this new girl. She writes poetry about me. I'm honored. Another frat
bro warns against stalking. Im only here for four weeks and then the
ashlee. Ashlee is hot. Bailey kisees. Like spring lily perfume. My nose
is continental. Sing to me I demand scents.
I hate mold in my cheese she says. Its okay. Gogonzola is an acquired
taste. I love the fontina he says. I only had a bit. The pussy cheeses
at me. What do you expect me to do with my tongue.
Expect me at four. I will make love to you until the sun rises. I hiccup.
My parents worrry. Certainly they read this. To their own loss. Need to
see the airforce adam. I miss the motherfucker. In the summer then.
Time is temporal.
I hiccup and beat skinheads. Love you. At 1am on a Saturday

~ I write with your life and my own ~