The grand high witch
I got my first really actually disturbing paedophile-esque serial killer message on Myspace from a 61-year-old guy named Bud from Penacook. The guy had no picture and zero information except that is name is Bud and he is 61 and lives in Penacook. It's not like I'm 12, or 15, or even 17 and a half, I can't tell my parents or the police. But I guess anything's young and risque to something that old. It just felt so surprisingly trite. Maybe I'm naively succumbing the increasingly alarming anti-Myspace state of the nation, but it stirred me just enough to think about wanting to get rid of mine completely. It comes at a time when the internet is losing it's shiny newness and fun. But don't worry, it'll pass.
Speaking of weirdness, I've been hanging out with the bartender at work who is 6 years older than me and married. He invited me over his house the other day; we had some rich conversation for a few hours, his chihuahua grew accustomed to me, (and there's no second meaning to that), and then he kicked me out because his wife would be home from therapy in a few minutes. It just doesn't add up. I don't know, at first I thought he was a total fag, then just kind of a fucked up bisexual, but now I think he just likes being married but keeping his options open. Any way you slice it, I don't really mind because he thinks I'm hot. God. Is this really my life?
Meanwhile, back on planet Earth, I'm hanging out with Erika again, after an angry but brief hiatus. She spent a ton of money on tickets to see The Allman Brothers, and I couldn't get the night off from work. She didn't talk to me for two weeks. I coaxed her back with...shudder...tickets to see Ani DiFranco at the Capital Center. I had to do something, because at its very lowest point, I showed up unexpectedly in her driveway to find her chilling with Alan and KC, and she bolted, literally ran into her house. She stood stoney and unrelenting as I pleaded from the front door. That's when I knew I would have to pull out the big guns. We joke about it now, as we've been hanging out extensively lately. She claims she's just a stubborn Taurus... I had to wave Ani DiFranco at her like a frigging matador that get that bull to charge. Heh. It was funnier when I said it the other day.
Zuzanna took this of me just outside of Harvard Square in Cambridge in late August... I found that rose on the sidewalk in front of an expensive bakery, or was it a latin music store. Either way, Zuzanna carried it around all evening, often in her cleavage or hanging out of her pants. Hilarious day.
Look, you can see it in this picture too!
Speaking of weirdness, I've been hanging out with the bartender at work who is 6 years older than me and married. He invited me over his house the other day; we had some rich conversation for a few hours, his chihuahua grew accustomed to me, (and there's no second meaning to that), and then he kicked me out because his wife would be home from therapy in a few minutes. It just doesn't add up. I don't know, at first I thought he was a total fag, then just kind of a fucked up bisexual, but now I think he just likes being married but keeping his options open. Any way you slice it, I don't really mind because he thinks I'm hot. God. Is this really my life?
Meanwhile, back on planet Earth, I'm hanging out with Erika again, after an angry but brief hiatus. She spent a ton of money on tickets to see The Allman Brothers, and I couldn't get the night off from work. She didn't talk to me for two weeks. I coaxed her back with...shudder...tickets to see Ani DiFranco at the Capital Center. I had to do something, because at its very lowest point, I showed up unexpectedly in her driveway to find her chilling with Alan and KC, and she bolted, literally ran into her house. She stood stoney and unrelenting as I pleaded from the front door. That's when I knew I would have to pull out the big guns. We joke about it now, as we've been hanging out extensively lately. She claims she's just a stubborn Taurus... I had to wave Ani DiFranco at her like a frigging matador that get that bull to charge. Heh. It was funnier when I said it the other day.
Zuzanna took this of me just outside of Harvard Square in Cambridge in late August... I found that rose on the sidewalk in front of an expensive bakery, or was it a latin music store. Either way, Zuzanna carried it around all evening, often in her cleavage or hanging out of her pants. Hilarious day.
Look, you can see it in this picture too!