c6h12o6

So today we have a special treat. I'm a half assed writer who writes half the time. This is a short story I did when experimenting with form and imagery and shit like that. It'll be two parts. Today is the first part. Enjoy, and please leave comments.

(Just FYI- there is no real point to the story. You'll likely just be using up precioius minutes of your life reading it. But you'll have my appreciation.)



Upon Waking and Knowing and thennothing. (Part One)

Right. So here we are. Just Julie (we'll call her that because she hates it when I call her by her real name, Becky) and I. Sipping alcoholic beverages with high alcoholic content. The only real purpose of this to get us drunk and then maybe we'll, I don't know. Have sex. But maybe we won't. It all depends on Julie.

Julie: "Hey, you. What are you thinking about? Hmm?"

Me: "Well. I'm thinking that the only reason I come here and sit with you and drink is because well, I want to have sex with you later. That's about
it. Yeah."

Julie: "Oh. Well not today, hon. Not today. I'm meeting with Ron Jeremy later and I've got to keep my vaginal muscles primed. You know. Been doing kegels all all morning."

See? That's what I'm talking about. Julie. I shouldn't waste my time on her, no I shouldn't. And is she serious? How will I know? Ron Jeremy? Porn star,
yeah. But attractive? Hardly. Come on, Julie. You can SO do better than that. I know you can. You can do ME!!!! But she won't. She already told me that much. But I'll stay and drink and then maybe drive home drunk and hope for some premature release and then maybe plunge off a cliff or something.
Or something. OR SOMETHING!!!

Me: "Yeah, Julie. Kegels. I know. Good for you."

Julie: "What's wrong? Really? What is it?"

I really do think about responding, but then I figure that it isn't worth my time and if it is worth my time if I did it would it really be worth my time
because later in life I might need these extra minutes. So I don't respond. I just sip my drink and fall further from her 'in my mind' spread legs.
Further towards that little umbrella in my drink. Then I realize that I really am further. I'm driving.

Julie: "Right here. Take a left. I appreciate you driving me here. Really. I do."

Me: "Oh, um, yeah. Not a problem. You know, just say hi to 'Ron' for me, yeah? I'd like that. Tell him I'd like to get into the industry, maybe."

She doesn't appear to like this. She can maybe tell I'm being sarcastic? I don't think she can. But maybe she can. Oh, always maybe. But usually not. I couldn't tell if I was her. But that's because she's blonde, you see. BLONDE! So maybe she dyes it? She must. She must be brunette. Oh good. This is good. Then I don't want sex with her anyways. She is not blonde and I
want sex with a blonde hair. So good. So very good.

Julie: "Thanks. Really. I'll see you then? Call me, baby. Call me!"

I don't respond to this and I just kind of slowly drive away, with her in the rearview mirror looking after me. Probably looking at my car. A silver Jaguar convertible. Hell, I'd be looking at my car. But she's maybe looking at me. She'll never see me again. No. She's not my type and anyways, I need to find something else. Something blonde. I need to find my sex. Or at least that bottle of Moet from last night.

If I can find my Moet, I can find my sex. And with my sex, there can be no stopping me. Because me- you see, me- I am. Oh yes. I am. I am here. There. Everywhere. So take note, you. Take note. I AM! (Whatever all that means, I dont really know.)
null