Hey all, So June completely passed without one single update. And for this, fellow scoundrels, I apologize. I've been busy with work and family and getting sober and realizing that being sober kinda sucks. Making money, losing money, saving lives. I've also started and finished a short story (30 pages) called 'I lost the keys to my time machine.' Its about a really bad break up. I'm in the process of making a tumblr account where I will release a chapter a week until the epic story concludes or I realize no body is reading. But for now, I figure I'll let you guys have a few ramblings from my journal along with the first short story i ever wrote back in the dark ages of 2008. Stank you smelly much for reading you guys really make me happy, and don't forget to tell your moms and girlfriends and pets about who awesome this blog is.
8=========D,
A.H.L
Sometimes you get lucky and girls get naked in your room.
Sometimes you get lucky and find 3 dollars on the ground.
Sometimes you get lucky and your friends pay for your train ride.
Sometimes you get lucky and find your keys after 2 weeks of looking
Sometimes you get lucky and cashiers give you extra change
But most time you aren’t lucky at all.
Most of the time you are thrown to the wolves.
We just have to face the facts that we will all lose way more than we win.
Wallets will get lost.
Buses will be late.
Printers will run out of ink.
And ice cream will melt before you even take a bite.
It’s the small tribulations of everyday life that can drive a man mad.
The tiny inconviences that can send people spiraling into depression.
But I guess we are all living for those lucky moments, the moments where everything just falls into place.
Thing fall apart, but it is how we put them back together that defines us.
We just have to live, because the only alternative to life is death.
And I don’t want to be no ghost, Since most of the time I already feel invisible.
Time is running, and I have dress shoes
I’ll watch it disappear on the horizon
And hope it jogs a memory
It bullshit that theres a warning before those girls gone wild commercials. They sound be used as info nuggets like “you sister will get naked on camera for cocaine and rum shots.”
A few whores ago.
I sat in bed and watched Kelly hunched over my computer. My monitors glow lit her face up, she was so fucking cute (although she had a slight man chin.) She was reading short stories I had written. She was fresh out of high school, so I showed her a piece I had written about an unrequited love I had in high school. It had the perfect amount of cursing and vulnerability. Vulnerability in the sense that It was honest and pretty sad but not to sappy, she had already told me to “man up” in a serious tone when I made a joke about crying. It took her about 20 minutes to read it all, we sat in silence, not awkward in the least. Just her squinting at the text, and me eating the plate of Jose Ole mini tacos I had warmed up for us. She was wrapped in my comforter, underneath she was vagina naked. On the floor her clothes lay in a pile. She was pretty, so pretty.
I didn’t expect Kelly. We had been to a few parties together, but I was far to drunk at each of them to make a positive impression. The first time I talked to her sober was exactly one week before, and if someone had told me then that she would be in my room naked, reading my “work” at 2:17 am, I would have never believe them. She seemed innocent, even thou I didn’t know her well. I guess it was her eyes, she had big, glossy eyes. And when she smiled, which she did often, she looked like a cartoon character.
I looked at her almost the entire time she was reading. I’ll admit it was a little creepy, staring at her like that.
But in a way she was staring at me, she was reading one of the most genuine pieces I had ever wrote. Technically she was the creep, looking into my soul through my writing. I was just looking at her butt and side boob. When she had finished reading she looked at the keyboard for a minute. She put her finger on it as if to begin typing.
“You’re a really good writer.” She said still looking down at her fingers on the keyboard.
“Thank you.” I said, pretty generically. Thats what I said every time someone told me I was good. It was hard to tell if they were being honest, or just polite.
“I wish I could write.” She said as she took her fingers off the keyboard and looked at me with those eyes. I was briefly reminded of Alix and her piercing eyes. Both Rachel and Alix had incredible eyes, but totally different. Alix eye’s were sharp and almost cutting. While Kelley’s eyes were inviting and warm. I still loved Alix’s eye, but I could get used to Kellys.
“You probably can, just try. I takes a lot of work, and if you aren’t in the right mindset it can be boring but if you keep at it, it’s one of the most rewarding things ever.” I told her. I really did believe she could write. She was an intelligent girl, all she needed was the patience.
“How often do you write?”
“500 hundred words a day, Just like Jack London.” I lied. I was lucky to write 500 hundred words a week. I did admire Jack London for his 500 word a day ritual but I was way too lazy to mimic it.
“Really?” Kelley said sounding impressed.
“Yeah, it’s hard but worth it.” I felt like a bastard lying to her. But it wasn’t really lying, it was just realistic exaggeration.
“Wow, I should write 500 words a day.” She said as she got out of the seat and shuffled to bed with me. We laid there together, I had gotten drunk and thrown up all over one of my pillows so now I only had one that we shared, our faces were incredibly close, but I don’t think she cared and I certainly didn’t mind being close to those gorgeous brown eyes.
“I wish I could break dance.” I said, half joking.
Kelly was a dance major. Before I gave her my stories she showed me a video on her myspace of her dancing. I’m a terrible dancer, thus a terrible judge of dancing, so I couldn’t tell if she was good or not. But I did know she loved it, and her ass looked great in tights and that was good enough for me.
“I could teach you.”
“Ha, for sure.” I said before I kissed her on the forehead and put my arms around her. “Sorry I don’t have another pillow, the other one was a fucking mess, I had to dump it.”
“What happen to it?” She asked. I paused for a minute, I could tell her the truth, the rather vile story of the night John and I went half on a gallon of some shit off brand rum, but I concluded that the idea of me helplessly puking into the very bed we were laying in might put a damper on the mood of the night.
“ Spilled Pepsi all over it, I’m a clutz.” Crisis averted.
“Damn, that sucks.”
“Indeed.”
Neither of us said anything for about two minutes. Barely even moved. I kissed her after awhile.
“Did you play any sports in high school?”
“Yeah actually. I wrestled sophomore thru senior year.” I told her.
“Really?’ she said sitting up a little and looking at me before continuing “You a wrestler? In a weird way I can see that.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty terrible at most sports. My mom, she used to send me and my cousins to this sports camp. I went there for like, 4 summers. Didn’t get any better at anything, besides shit talking and faking injuries.”
“Hahaha. What made you want to wrestle?”
“ I’m an only child and haha, I’ve always a lot of stored energy and aggression and shit. You know, from not having a little brother’s ass to beat or something. Not that I’m violent or anything, I just enjoy putting people in headlocks every now again, is that so wrong?”
Now that I think about it maybe I was a little violent. To this day I still attack cousins and close friends. Every family gathering I look forward to throwing my little cousins over couches and into laundry baskets. And my assaults on friends my age are rather hostile and elaborate. This past summer I was approached by three mall cops and almost banned from the premises after play fight I had initiated in a clothing store and just last month I choked Justin with my dogs rope toy thing.
“Yeah, ok psycho.”
“Ahhh bite me, Did you play any sports?”
“No not really..” She continued on about how she was in a collection of plays and performances in high school. She had showed me pictures of her in high school through her face book. She wasn’t always cute, in fact in most of her older pictures she looked like a Puerto Rican boy, curly hair pretty bushy eyebrows. All she needed to do was let her leg hair grow and stand outside a 7/11 trying to sell food stamps. Hahaha, I’m sorry that’s racist.
“Yeah, ok psycho.”
“Ahhh bite me, Did you play any sports?”
“No not really..” She continued on about how she was in a collection of plays and performances in high school. She had showed me pictures of her in high school through her face book. In my old school the dancers were the popular girls, cheerleaders, prom queens and other assorted pretty faces. This was not the case at her school, the dance team she showed me in the pictures looked more like the chess team. Maybe the chess team paints to nerdy of a picture, more like the environmental club. They posed. They laughed. They got caught off guard. All with an air of adolescent awkwardness
There was another silence. I could here the T.V through the walls, it was “The Cable Guy.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked her as I looked at the ceiling.
“Yeah, a little but I never turn down food. What do you have.”
“Oh, you’ll see. I’m going to make us the most romantic meal ever.”
“Oh, wow. I can’t wait.” She said smiling at me.
I put my pants on and walked into the living room. Not three steps out of my room I see Kelley’s friend Jasmine’s head jerk up. She was sitting on the couch with Freddy who was now scrabbling to fasten his pants. I had just walked in on oral sex. I made eye contact with both of them, there was no need to pretend like I didn’t see it. The room reeked of lust and penis. Freddy wore a tank top and sweated a lot. The living room couch was drenched in his sweat, back sweat and ball sweat. I was smirking, they were giggling.
“Well alright.” I coughed out and headed to the refrigerator. I had no idea what was in it, I barely shopped and I was sure that the items I bought were either eaten or rotten. I opened the freezer; Ice cream, steak, French fries, more ice cream, mini tacos, mini corn dogs and three frozen pizzas. The only thing that belong to me were the box mini corn dogs, and it was half empty. Before moving in my mom prepped me on how to deal with the house food thief. The thief was me now. I had been eating Randy’s mini tacos and Kyle’s hot pockets for the better part of a week. Not to mention I drunk the shit out of every soda Valens had ever purchased. I decided to cook us my corn dogs, didn’t want to spoil the night with thievery.
As I watched the corn dogs heat in the microwave and tired to avoid looking at Freddy and Jasmine on the couch I thought about how it was only 12:48. The night had pretty much been a whirl wind for me. It started in Cohen’s room, like most of the early nights did. I didn’t have much to drink that night, so I was slightly more composed than usual. I can’t remember a damn thing I said to her in Cohen’s room. Her friends pulled me aside a few times to ask me did I like her. I charmed them into convincing her to come to my room. In a comedy book I read there was a passage that said “When things go right, it’s a blur. It’s when you crash that you remember every detail.” Things went right that night, with Kelly. The night was a river, and I was just a floating log. Lucky drift wood.
2 minutes and the corn dogs would be ready. Jasmine charged into my room, I’d never seen my door close so fast. I looked at Freddy. He was still in high school and here he was getting mouth love from a college girl. He smiled at me, cocky little shit. Earlier that night Kelley told me she had a thing with one of the guys who lived in my building, she didn’t tell me who but she did she I knew him. Apparently he liked her way more than she liked him, but she was trying to spare his feelings and not be seen entering and exiting my room. This was the third time I had been in this situation this year, girl stealing. I never did it to disrespect anyone, in fact this time wasn’t even on purpose. Kelley had been in my room a few hours earlier then left to settle things with the mystery boy. I offered to talk to him to, but she said it would make things weird, I didn’t give a fuck about weirdness, it was benefit of being socially challenged. I simply didn’t have time to give any fucks.
Corn dogs were done. The microwave open button got stuck pretty often, I pressed it a few times until the door finally swung open, I Jackie Chan dodged it and grabbed the plate. I knocked on my door, I knew better than to interrupt girl talk. I waited a few. The door open and Jasmine was standing there.
“Hello.” I said holding the plate in one hand and trying to keep my pants up with the other.
“I need to talk to you.” She said taking the plate from me and giving it to Kelley.
“Corn dogs is your idea of romantic?” Kelley said with her mouth already eating one.
“Try it with barbecue sauce. They are divine.” I said pointing to a bottle that was already on my desk, I wondered how the hell did that even get there? I was lead by the hand by Jasmine to the bathroom.
She closed the door and I sat on the toilet.
“Having a good night, Jasmine?”
“It’s alright, what about yours?”
“Not so good, I missed Super jail, it was a new episode.” I laughed.
“Do you like Kelley?”
“Didn’t you already ask me this?”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes. A lot.”
“What do you like about her.” She sat down the sink and looked at me like I was a criminal.
“Her eyes..” I whispered.
“Huh?” Jasmine said leaning her head in. She was smiling slightly so I was to intimidated but I knew this was a relatively serious talk.
“I like her because she I can actually talk to her. I feel oddly comfortable around her.” I said looking down at my pants, they were dirty. I looked up at Jasmine she seemed pleased with my answer.
“I like her because it is easy to like her.” The words snuck out of my mouth. They echoed and then disappeared. Moments of inadvertent honesty were becoming more routine ever since I moved in. They oozed out, the truths. Unapologetic truths. I didn’t know what to make of it, I had no choice but to accept them, and pray I learned to internalize them.
“Good.” she said.
“Think I have a chance with her?”
“Maybe” she laughed before saying “You are cuter then most of guys she talks to.”
I laughed. I saw a picture of Kelley with a guy she identified as her ex boyfriend, I thought I was cuter. But I knew it was about looks with Kelley, she was into artists. And more turned on by passion and creativity then faces and muscles.
After I finished with Jasmine I went back to my room. She was sitting on the bed talking on her phone.
“Here he is now” Kelley said.
“Who is that?”
“It’s Ashley, I think she want to go back to the U.C now.”
Ashley was Kelley room mate, her crush on Cohen was the reason I met Kelley in the first place.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah she is tired and doesn’t feel like staying withCohen tonight.”
Even though we had already had sex, I still didn’t want Kelley to go yet. Cuddling after sex was the cherry on the sundae, if she left now I couldn’t cuddle. I’d be robbed of my sex sundae, I had to do something.
“Let me see the phone.”
Kelley passed me her phone. I didn’t know what I was going to say to Ashley to convince her to stay, but I am a writer and words my tool.
“Hey Ashley. What’s this I here about you trying to leave and take Kelley and Jasmine with you.” I cut to the chase, there was no need to play it subtle.
“Yeah Adam. I’m getting sleepy and want to lay in my OWN bed.” She said, clearly emphasizing to Cohen.
“Well it’s 1 in the morning and this is Chicago, there are dangerous men out there Ashley. Men that wouldn’t think twice about harassing three pretty young girls walking home this late.”
“I always carry pepper spray and the U.C is like ten minutes away.”
“Yeah, that’s what all rape victims say. Next thing they know they are tied up in an attic getting fingers put in there butt. You don’t want to be the victim of a booty pinky do you Ashley?” the words fumbled and flipped out. Booty pinky sounded like a Trina song.
“Hahaha, whatever Adam I’m tired tell Kelley to met me in Cohen’s room.”
“Hmmmm, That means she has to put back on all of her clothes, that might take awhile…” I looked at Kelley. She had sex hair. “And plus, you have your whole life to sleep in your own bed. You are young and who knows how long it will last, take chances, sleep in mysterious beds, even if it is a rough night, one night is in the flash in the pan in the long run.”
There was silence on the other end and then “Put Kelley back on the phone.”
I handed Kelley the phone, they talked for few seconds then hung up.
“Well I’m staying, but I have to leave tomorrow early.” Kelley looked up at me.
“Glad to hear it.” I kissed her and grabbed a handful of corn dogs.
We talked for a few hours. About the movie Pulp Fiction and consumerism and how it had made hip hop dance a fad. Then we went to sleep. Well she did, I had an erection, and about 20 minutes into her slumber I woke her up for sex. Then we went to sleep for real.
