Today, I defintley saw the youth of america.
I found a completly full, yet clean skull of a dead animal. A possum.
I set it up on one of the disc golf tees, not harming or hurting anyone.
The kids who were behind us came upon the skull.
They started clubbing it with a stick.
Jesus.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
weak post.
you were not there to reward me with interest.
Was i out of my mind?
or were the trees, shiny and lit up?
was my tin covered face pressed to hard?
I once heard dreams come true
false, untrue
dreams are world peace, unknoiwn solutions to everpresent queries
dreams arent coming true this round, my friend.
Order all the humilty, don't worry, it's on me.
Was i out of my mind?
or were the trees, shiny and lit up?
was my tin covered face pressed to hard?
I once heard dreams come true
false, untrue
dreams are world peace, unknoiwn solutions to everpresent queries
dreams arent coming true this round, my friend.
Order all the humilty, don't worry, it's on me.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Details
I'm going to attempt to write a piece of fiction, something you could read in an ultra-trendy yuppie magazine, like Details, or Esquire. Remember my dream is to one day own a home
where I can actually read Details and Esquire and fit in.
A Critical Essay Concerning A Young Mans' Romantic Affairs.
I guess you could say that I was the model of "overachiever". A guy who was the quintessential ladies man, while looking like buffets were essential to him.
I was hip, I was cool, I was me. I was pulling girls, that made people question me, usually with words like "How the fuck did he pull her?"
And that's just me. That's how I am. I am a natural sweet talker. I have had experiences and more often then naught I'd think back.
I remember a few years back. I had been out of the game for so long, that it was frightening. Upon the beginning of the Summer, i realized i definitely had to get back.
I decided to test my game out with a big girl, a girl that could also be called "Creature" with no harm, no foul. I picked her because of the adoration she had for me, and for the fact that despite her boyfriend, i knew she was the classic whore, the whore who makes no qualms about how she is, or what she does.
Why did i gravitate to a women like this?
Anyways, I called her. We exchanged pleasantries and before long I was at her house, sitting in my car with her, getting ready for a night of unknown drama, and experience. The situation started off weirdly, with her not saying anything until she peeled off some huge tangent about her day that i really wasn't particularly interested in.
I made my shot. She had already been smoking a joint before she got in my car, so there's no doubt that this attention loving girl would be modest.
Nope not at all. She flaunted her breasts, and made an attempt to be sexy. She was so dense and dull, it was like a human brick wall. She was my ages' Aunt Ethel, someone who rattled on and on about crazy shit, then lose track of what she was talking about. Her head would be busy conjuring up lies to cover up her dull, uninteresting life. All the while i sat, and laughed, and thought Jesus, Marcos, this is going to be hard. you going to be able to do this?
I started dropping more innuendo, my dialogue as if it had been lifted from some bad porno movie. I didn't care instead i churned out lies, eager to put this one down, and be ready to know that my game was tight on all levels.
Then she danced. She moved, she wiggled. The creature grinned and attempted to look sexy, all the while looking like a whale in discomfort. Harpooned, bitch? An ugly,m yet conceited woman., Holy crap.
I recline my seat back, and flaunted the goods, the butchers bloc if you will. How could she ignore the anaconda next to her, by looking at her ugly ass in the mirror? Pathetic. I started to feel my fame slip and pass me by with that action.
However, she came around. She soon started responding to my innuendo, and when she returned to dancing, she stopped long enough to flaunt her grotesque breasts. My stomach churned, my penis remained flaccid, hopefully for not longer then two months. She was denying me? Her flashes should be registered weapons. I had temporary blindness for weeks.
She got out of my car, her cutting the night short. My game had fallen. I got cut short. And as she stood outside and gave me the honor of being the victim of a flash, I felt my mind cave in. After seeing the war zone that was her body, I was even more saddened that i got denied by a woman who looked like that.
My game had failed. I had slipped.
I don't know if I was happy or sad about it either.
where I can actually read Details and Esquire and fit in.
A Critical Essay Concerning A Young Mans' Romantic Affairs.
I guess you could say that I was the model of "overachiever". A guy who was the quintessential ladies man, while looking like buffets were essential to him.
I was hip, I was cool, I was me. I was pulling girls, that made people question me, usually with words like "How the fuck did he pull her?"
And that's just me. That's how I am. I am a natural sweet talker. I have had experiences and more often then naught I'd think back.
I remember a few years back. I had been out of the game for so long, that it was frightening. Upon the beginning of the Summer, i realized i definitely had to get back.
I decided to test my game out with a big girl, a girl that could also be called "Creature" with no harm, no foul. I picked her because of the adoration she had for me, and for the fact that despite her boyfriend, i knew she was the classic whore, the whore who makes no qualms about how she is, or what she does.
Why did i gravitate to a women like this?
Anyways, I called her. We exchanged pleasantries and before long I was at her house, sitting in my car with her, getting ready for a night of unknown drama, and experience. The situation started off weirdly, with her not saying anything until she peeled off some huge tangent about her day that i really wasn't particularly interested in.
I made my shot. She had already been smoking a joint before she got in my car, so there's no doubt that this attention loving girl would be modest.
Nope not at all. She flaunted her breasts, and made an attempt to be sexy. She was so dense and dull, it was like a human brick wall. She was my ages' Aunt Ethel, someone who rattled on and on about crazy shit, then lose track of what she was talking about. Her head would be busy conjuring up lies to cover up her dull, uninteresting life. All the while i sat, and laughed, and thought Jesus, Marcos, this is going to be hard. you going to be able to do this?
I started dropping more innuendo, my dialogue as if it had been lifted from some bad porno movie. I didn't care instead i churned out lies, eager to put this one down, and be ready to know that my game was tight on all levels.
Then she danced. She moved, she wiggled. The creature grinned and attempted to look sexy, all the while looking like a whale in discomfort. Harpooned, bitch? An ugly,m yet conceited woman., Holy crap.
I recline my seat back, and flaunted the goods, the butchers bloc if you will. How could she ignore the anaconda next to her, by looking at her ugly ass in the mirror? Pathetic. I started to feel my fame slip and pass me by with that action.
However, she came around. She soon started responding to my innuendo, and when she returned to dancing, she stopped long enough to flaunt her grotesque breasts. My stomach churned, my penis remained flaccid, hopefully for not longer then two months. She was denying me? Her flashes should be registered weapons. I had temporary blindness for weeks.
She got out of my car, her cutting the night short. My game had fallen. I got cut short. And as she stood outside and gave me the honor of being the victim of a flash, I felt my mind cave in. After seeing the war zone that was her body, I was even more saddened that i got denied by a woman who looked like that.
My game had failed. I had slipped.
I don't know if I was happy or sad about it either.
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