Can I purchase happy?
Can I bargain success?
Can I bribe love?
Can I buy a vowel?
I squint at the very notion,
making my eyes even more invisible.
God damn it I'm hungry.
But for something specific.
I mean, liver and couscous is great,
and so is jalapeno doused salt-batter fried food,
But where's the love?
And the return trips to a buffet of welcoming marsala sauce.
My head's shaved.
And my shirts need pressed.
And my job needs found.
*shrugs*
me and my puppy are going to bed.
My parents are coming in tomorrow.
Dinner, guilt trips, nagging, and hectics.
Status
Quo.
Gotta love it.
I've yet to celebrate my lack of homework assignments, and near conclusion to my education beyond video game marathons, and Frasier seasons running in the background.
Vanilla cappucinos await.
Along with something cheesey and sweet.
Gotta live for those small over-indulgences.
And yes,
shaving my own head was an exercise in insanity.
Watching things falling apart.
I need a smoke
and a good sloppy
long
wet
fuck.
With a pristine trim bodied goddess.
She doesn't even have to love me.
Fuckall.
I'll settle for lunch and stimulants for the time being.
And financial independence.
Give my regards to my folks.
With any luck, this will be one of their last trips to see me in THIS city.
*squats down and stares you in the face*
I really fuckin hate you.
And the fact that I can't just go to dinner with you assholes instead of writing a blog.
I'm much more charming over cocktails or pastries.
*puffs a mass of smoke and puts out his cigar on the bridge of your nose*
Promise.
