It's funny. I go to check my other blog, put up my regular music complaints, etc, and i have 57 views in less than a few hours. Then i come here, to do a little staring. It's been a while, my no one friends, but here, on the unedited blog, goes number three.
She was an ex-cheerleader, just out of a serious relationship. I was working, back at college, getting ready to live on my own for the first time. We didn't agree on anything--i was becoming a bleeding-heart liberal who believed anything i read out of Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn, she was a conservative serving out an angry protest against Clinton. I was finally working out, she had started to let herself go.
We fucked like maniacs.
If you could do it, with a man and a woman, we did it. Sex for, literally, days, followed with long make-out showers. Like a couple of demons. I wanted to forget--well, basically, everything. She wanted to get over a guy named Brian. It didn't last long-it actually ended because i stopped showing up, but to be honest, we fought like cats and dogs on acid. The last time we really got into it was over the way i talked to her when she was working on college algebra homework. Oh well.
We hooked up again, years later, both of us miles down different paths; me in one of the longest fuck-buddy marathons of my life, on my way to the longest relationship, her on her way to marrying old Brian. It was silly, and the magic was gone. She blew me during the world series, told me i'd been eating a lot of fruit "cause it tastes real strong. And that's good." Then she was gone. One message, a lame goodbye on both our parts, and i never saw her again.
It would be years before sex was that good again, and i've given up on having something that free.
Goodnight, no one. I'm listening to fucking Stevie Wonder, from 1973. Pitchfork recommended it, and yeah, i'm kinda liking it. So, oh well.
She was an ex-cheerleader, just out of a serious relationship. I was working, back at college, getting ready to live on my own for the first time. We didn't agree on anything--i was becoming a bleeding-heart liberal who believed anything i read out of Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn, she was a conservative serving out an angry protest against Clinton. I was finally working out, she had started to let herself go.
We fucked like maniacs.
If you could do it, with a man and a woman, we did it. Sex for, literally, days, followed with long make-out showers. Like a couple of demons. I wanted to forget--well, basically, everything. She wanted to get over a guy named Brian. It didn't last long-it actually ended because i stopped showing up, but to be honest, we fought like cats and dogs on acid. The last time we really got into it was over the way i talked to her when she was working on college algebra homework. Oh well.
We hooked up again, years later, both of us miles down different paths; me in one of the longest fuck-buddy marathons of my life, on my way to the longest relationship, her on her way to marrying old Brian. It was silly, and the magic was gone. She blew me during the world series, told me i'd been eating a lot of fruit "cause it tastes real strong. And that's good." Then she was gone. One message, a lame goodbye on both our parts, and i never saw her again.
It would be years before sex was that good again, and i've given up on having something that free.
Goodnight, no one. I'm listening to fucking Stevie Wonder, from 1973. Pitchfork recommended it, and yeah, i'm kinda liking it. So, oh well.