my, my, my...
what a pretty day it is today. the sun is out. i bathe in its bright, bright light with my shirt off and my flab exposed to the neighbors across the street. they stare at me with funny little eyes, squinting, trying oh-so-hard to sneak a peak at my sizzling skin. ...gosh, enough of that!
i have no idea where i was going with all of those curious little descriptions - if i wrote a book, i'd probably call it "Dithering Heights," you know, for the sake of irony.
last night i went to a karaoke bar in Downey. it was quite contrite, or at least the patrons were. me and the boys got there around ten, right as the Dodgers vs. Angels game was coming to a close. Fans of both teams were in attendance at the bar, and speckles of blue and red people spotted the otherwise drab decor.
i was glorious in my two-toned green button-up from Barneys, in my dirtiest pair of blue jeans, in my $77 dollar guarache sandals, with hair perfectly coiffed and a wrist that shone like the moon, that is, because of the ethnic bracelet that i bought from a peddler on the streets of Yuca, California. ...but that's another story.
After the Dodgers were humiliated on their field, a guy named Steve set up the Karaoke machine by connecting a long black chord from the machine to the projector. it was all very fascinating to watch - Steve's Nightly Ritual. I knew his name was Steve because I heard one of the lady bartenders singing to him as he left, "AWwww, Steve, don't leave, don't leave me...Steve."
Needless to say, I drank more than my fair share of booze, and by the end of the night everybody in the bar was calling me, El Greco - because of my beautiful brown curly tresses, apparently i'm what they think a greek person looks like - and everyone shouted like maniacs during my rendition of "Cocaine Blues" because my hair was quivering from the robust vibrato of my singing, and they loved watching the gyrations.
We must remember that we are speaking of drunk people, all gathered together in the ceremony of Friday night under a single roof; and in this strange habitat, all social expectations are drowned, no behavior is taboo, and popcorn is free until 11:30.
As soon as i got home, i passed out. My friends took full advantage of my insobriety, and they drew thousands of penises (different sizes and shapes and colors) all across the length of my back and stomach and legs and feet. I was covered in cock.
...so i suppose i can understand why my neighbors were so interested in watching me sun tan.