"you wanna pal around? let's go pal around"


i slept comfortably in my parent's bed back at home. i tossed and turned (how does one have such fanciful extravagant blankets on display [they're selling the house, so it's now more of model home than a real home] yet when sleepytime comes around all there is is this dinky little red minnie mouse blanket designed for nine year olds - i'm just bitter how cold it is), and dreamed of strange faraway things.

for example,
the one dream i vividly remember is one where i hung out with an assassin and on one trip we killed some guy that worked at a bank just so we could haul his carcass over to teresa's and use him as the pollen of a flower, as we painted the entire thing next to her bed. something about her waking up and being surprised like crazy that there was this globby (gallons of paint i assumed [assuming things in SLEEP of all places]) painty mess of a flower with a BODY in the middle for some reason. that'll get that mennonite whore (i didn't think that, i JUST thought of it, and it became mennonite whore after white bitch, but i thought white bitch, although funny, wasn't the right kind of diction i wanted to be using for this example. it didn't fit the TONE! once you're a writer you'll understand these things [i'm just kidding, i don't think you'll EVER understand these things bucko])i thought to myself, as i dripped hot horse ham (another word for red and blue paint[another word for THIS is PURPLE but that's so archaic compared to hot horse ham that well, i refused to use it]) all over her velvetty wood floor.

NOTE:

I know wood cannot really appear velvetty. Hell, the other day Dom was wearing a normal zip-up sweater and I demanded that he tell me why he was wearing velvet. Of course, right from the get-go I knew that his sweater wasn't really velvet. It's just that when you're on the same intellectual plane as someone else, you really have to argue your point until the end, if only just for the sheer competition of it all, so even if you're wrong, you can win, which makes it that much sweeter. However this time it was like turning water into wine so I gave up half way. I can still claim that he wears velvet and looks like a complete homosexual though. The second part doesn't work. I already think over a thousand people have considered me a woman on first glance, let alone the tidal waves of people that are jumping on my back for being a HOMOSEXUAL!!

I woke up immediately feeling good about myself; twelve hours of sleep in a bed that's comfortable (in spirit and in memory mostly) to you can work wonders. I realized I haven't slept in a familiar bed for quite some time now (teresa's glob-ecatessen of a bed wouldn't pass for anything in a deliatrics center) and that maybe it was that that seemed to hamper my sleep each night. I also didn't feel lonely for once, which was nice. Even sometimes when you sleep next to someone you can feel lonely, if you know what I mean. The night time can get anyone.

On waking up and being pleasantly content with the way things are for now (ON GIRLS ACTUALLY EVERYTHING ELSE IS A LIE AND HAS BEEN LEFT IN SHAMBLES FOR WHAT I'm ABOUT TO SAY!!!!) : : : : : : :(colon parade, semicolon masquerade?? - originally there were three, but i decided that three does not usually constitute a parade)

i looked over at my phone (apparently people don't have clocks in model homes, it's like a goddamn casino in here) and saw that teresa had called me last night (by the way pussycat [and note i didn't start that with SORRY you'll be geting a lot fewer of THOSE buddy!], i really was dead asleep but man do you make me FURIOUS with all that cute talk and out-witting me and all THAT jazz). i checked the voice mail (she's always kind enough to leave me one, even if it's just about how much salad she's eaten during the day. since she's a vegan though it's usually like twelve or forty pounds), and quickly my terrific morning got even better in way of THIS:

what she said, basically:

"so today i've been having the WORST day at solitaire EVER. I dealt myself out THREE times and all three times i lost, and i noticed that there were cards to the side of me that i hadn't put in the pile, so i shuffled those in and i STILL lost and noticed there were even more cards that i hadn't put in there, *CLICK*"

it's also comforting to know how goddamn well we complement each other. our hearts match up (and that's really scratching the surface, everything in the future and past and present is reserved for the story of our lives) and our foreheads line up pretty well and unlike too many people, i 'm never going to become disinterested in her (it's been a seven year obsession for chrissakes, everything i've written seems to be just part of a gigantic love note that's just coming into fruition)

- -- - it's nice to make someone laugh endlessly, always. i'll continue that part later because i want to get to the shins (excited!!)

i finally saw the shins a couple of nights ago with dasha. granted, the first time i went to see the shins should've been reserved for teresa, but she IS going to see roger waters perform dark side of the moon with birdfuck, so i justified it to myself in that way. the crowd was quiet, but peaceful and definitely kind. dasha and i bobbed more than others, her eyes closed, usually dreaming about some far away place, me completely in awe of how good the lead singer (dash said he looked like kevin spacey due to forehead size, which i laughed at) sounded and how ferocious the guitar player was (it felt like i was the only one in the whole place that realized how many drinks he was having and how funny it was that he kept bobbing his guitar up and down with such VIGOR for no reason). when caring is creepy came on i quickly dialed up teresa and held my phone up to his voice so i could sing and be sang to and have starfish, whatever she was doing, listen in and be joyful. and she could hear me sing, she said later, and said that i filled her heart with joy. (we owe each other a spiritual concert like this in the future, at the very very least)


("UNRELATED" -oh my god, my dad just plopped some noodles down next to me [which was very nice by the way, i don't want you to think otherwise] and said, "bon appetit your HEINESS." i laughed and he didn't know why and sort of walked away in a dejected sorta way, and i looked at him and said thanks dad and he said oh okay and walked downstairs])


on a side note:
there were these two tallish looking guys standing next to us in the crowd (oh, by the way, the reason i got into the floor in the first place was cause there was this ponytailed asian kid (about twenty three or so) who let me in because dasha had floor tix and i had balcony tix. it was extremely nice of him, and it really seemed like he was only doing me a favor and not anyone else, which felt special) who resembled (and in my mind, very closely) omar rodriguez and jason bateman. then this security guy who dasha called iggy pop came and flexed around, and dasha said it would be so funny if i asked for omar's autograph as if he WERE in the mars volta, but i didn't. i mean i wanted to, but i said i'd do it after the show because we were having such fun and i didn't wanna embarrass the guy while he was with his girl and all, so yeah.

i also noticed jason taking pictures of his very shy asian girlfriend (i really ought to write a post on why i don't think i'm going to ever end up with an asian girl that has the same type of personality as me) and she was hiding her face and stuff, and you know when people are always taking pictures of people who HATE being photographed? i really hate that kind of thing (though i am probably one of the WORST offenders) because i tend to notice that i really (and teresa) really really am not photogenic and all and definitely appear to be much better looking in person than in photographs. i don't know how to ACT in still photos, they are too much work for such extreme STIFFNESS!!!!

(goddamn these noodles are good. "virginia ham and jumbo shrimp" - dad)

i have work in a few minutes. i feel great though, and for once i'm not going to be smoking a bowl so let's see how that goes.

love,
-george