an improved story (i don't even know what it is yet since i haven't begun to write!):

jake and i used to walk home through the blizzard every day when school was out. we didn't mind much; our mothers had given us very comfy sweaters and earmuffs and hats with flaps. these were our real life treasures and needless to say, we never forgot to wear anything. it was just so cold!

so one day after school, through the blizzard and everything, we decided to walk out to paul's hamburger shop and get some food. paul wasn't there that day, he had to take his son to the chiropractor or something, but his wife emily was. i remember jake saying something about how he liked brunettes and how emily was the perfect type of brunette, the kind that drank and kissed but never told anyone about it. i told him that type of talk was ridiculous, and that the fact he even said something like that in real life made me question his existence.

so emily was there and she said, "what'll you boys have" and i said, "i'd love a hot chocolate, em. hey can you get out the darts i think i wanna play a little," and jake said something like, "i'd love to eat you out and then shave your head when i'm done," and emily sort of stared at him cockeyed and i stared at him cockeyed and all of a sudden a heaping mass of swat teams rushed into the joint and started to beat him to death for sexual harasssment.

actually what he really said was this: "hey em, i'll have like two strawberry milkshakes and a double jalepeno burger."

emily's reply to this was, "jake, why do you always get strawberry milkshakes? it's like ten below zero outside."

jake would point to his sweater and his earmuffs and his hat with the flaps, and sometimes when he'd do this and i was around i would do it too, as to emphasize the point that we were already very very warm. emily would smile and say something about paul never wanting to spend money on a comfy sweater, and we would just stand and stare flabbergasted. "what a terrible thing!" we would exclaim, and she would give us our darts and our burgers and not say anything the rest of the night. i think jake thought of her while masturbating, which is very creepy both to say and to think about, but i just think you should know what kind of character jake really is. he's a sick fuck.

but enough about jake and emily and paul's stupid hamburger shack. this story is about the girl i met in the blizzard and that's what i want to talk about.

she was made of ice and she stabbed me right in the heart with a popsicle. mother fucking snow bitch

well it didn't really happen like that, but sometimes i think it did. her name was marina, and as ridiculous as it may seem, i thought the name was pretty. it's weird to think that russian women named marina (the middle aged kind) would be pretty in their youth, but it is certainly true. she was beautiful. she was quiet and pale and liked to play the saxophone. she hated the snow, and would always tell me that she did when i used to walk her home sometimes, and she even devised a plan where all the snow in the world would just disappear, and she would live out the rest of her days in complete sunshine.

"but i like the snow," i would say. "you can make snowmen, and hot chocolate really tastes delicious after a long walk in the snow. don't you like snowball fights or anything? have you ever made a snow angel?"

"I FUCKING HATE SNOW ANGELS!" she would yell

"well, don't you think ice skating is romantic? we could do it to your favorite song."

"I WANT VODKA! VODKA IS HOME COUNTRY NUTRIENT! I WANT IT NOW! PLEASE PLEASE"

it was at this point i decided marina was really crazy, but i was head over heels in love with her so i couldn't see past myself. we went to this shop called "exotic birds" and when the parrots would mimic something she said, she would grab them by the throat and throw them against the window. then she would mutter something about yeltsin and run in circles. women are crazy, i decided.

i don't know where i am in this story.