egads
It's about 6ish in the morning. I just got home from Jon's house not too long ago.
The sky was amazing this morning as I was driving away from Jon’s house. It was light blue with clouds that ranged from cotton candy pink to bruised mauve. It was one of those mornings where I was desperate to go to the beach and take pictures, except the beach was in Stone Harbor {{grrrrrrr}} and my camera is somewhere in north jersey being used to take snaps of the ugly UPS guy my aunt is fucking.
My language is appalling this early because my vocabulary and emotions are numb, so I for some reason feel the need to overcompensate for my lack of the ability to communicate my way of thinking. I guess I do this by just carelessly flinging blunt words around. It’s similar to the mood I’m in when I smoke a cigarette sometimes. The “…well I guess it’s not that important” mindset.
When I got home, I walked around my front yard for a while. The birds were going crazy. I stared at a huge spider web that spanned from the ground to a branch about seven feet up in the air for a good minute or so. There were no cars out and it was actually both enjoyable outside and quiet for the first time...ever. I felt very peaceful, as dumb as that does sound. I wanted to stay outside and paint or just sleep in my yard.
It was cool but warm at the same time. Warm and dewy, I guess. It reminded me of one of those mornings when you go camping, and it’s 6:15, after you’ve just fallen asleep, and the whole god damn world is awake, singing, and eating breakfast while you try to ignore the birds, who are apparently chirping through loudspeakers on the other side of your tent. Yeah. I definitely felt like there was a tent to be frustratingly or lazily packed up somewhere… half-assed and messily, with air still in it and leaves sticking to the sides.
I really wanted to be at the beach.
Anyway.
It would be an understatement for me to say my relationship with Jon is anything less than abusive. The whole night, I was threatened with drills and electrical tape and pieces of fruit. He kept almost beating me with his belt, almost pelting me with oranges, almost drilling holes into my legs... and completely crushing my newly manicured right paw under his chair {{Jon you're a bastard}}. Seriously, I spent the majority of the fourteen or so hours we spent together flinching, or being called names...all while laughing my arse off so I guess I really have no right to say anything.
Jon got up to use the bathroom, and I said "hurry up", which was a devastatingly bad idea because his knowledge that I was next..well.. it inspired Jon to aim NOWHERE NEAR THE ACTUAL BOWL. He hit the seat quite well though. Fucking bastard.
Ah yes, another pleasant moment I have to record {{you know, so I don’t lose this jewel of a memory somewhere down the line}} is the phone call with my mom that took place. I was talking to her while Jon was literally dissecting a mango, and with the noises he could make with the mango juice on his hands, proceeding to make the loudest masturbatory-related sounds ever accomplished with fruit juice. I highly, highly doubt I will ever be able to eat a mango again without the though of Jon and his charming slippery noises.
Throughout the night, Jon decorated the visit with a sequence of disturbing, drill-related behaviours including drilling holes in the desk… drilling things onto the desk.. almost drilling a himself in the neck….using the drill to pleasure himself…
Jon’s a humble fellow who finds joy in the simpler things in life.
Although… he did fall out of his chair, onto his DDR boards and into a position on the floor with his head in the seat where he couldn’t at all get up. He couldn’t get up, and while lying there he said to himself “OW! …..Now I know how Jesus felt.”
For how smart Jon is, I often want to just smack him in the neck for being such a jackass.
We went veggie shopping. We hit the Acme three times, and Superfresh once. While we were in Superfresh, we ran into one of Jon's friends who worked there. Halfway into the conversation, the guy looked at Jon and motioned at me. "Who uh..."
"Oh, this is Maria"
I love it when people can't introduce themselves or acknowledge [to me] that we've not yet been familiarized with each other.
Oh... and later that night, the same friend came over, sat on the bed next to me, and farted, I'd say, about three to four times.
Pleased to meet you, Matt.
Around our second or third visit to Acme, I noticed the crappy mocha drink Jon bought for me wasn't very tightly closed, so I took it out of my bag to look at it, and a few drops of it spilled in Jon’s car. He made me clean it with a..well.... feminine napkin that I had in my bag. My most glorious moment. The third time we went to Acme, we selected the Español because we’re pros at Self-Checkout now. So it was both a robot and a Mexican that took some fine white cashier’s job.
I’m going to hell for that because no one including myself will find that funny.
We bought SmartGround fake beef and had tacos for dinner. Though he made fun of everything while I was cooking it, and wouldn’t let me cut up the vegetables at first, Jon said he really liked it. I believe the words were “with this stuff, I could totally be vegetarian for the rest of my life.” For the rest of his life. Damn. I haven’t even made that commitment. Tomorrow I may become a butcher for all I know.
Okay, so, that’s the furthest from the truth. But G-damn. Coming from Jon, who undoubtedly basks in an inner feeling of superb conquest every time he eats a burger, it was strange to hear.
Jon decided to also buy flowers for his girlfriend. We picked out three bunches and I arranged them for him while he just sat there watching was inspired as I observed Jon carefully and thoughtfully positioning the flowers as a gift for his girlfriend.
He saw me off and ended the occasion like any graceful host would: he wrote “I [heart] cock” in the dew on my rear window; “SEX” and “call [cell phone number]” on the front; and “free sex. Call [cell phone number]” on the passenger windows.
Love you too Jon. It matches the bleeding cartoon penis with blue balls he decorated my lighter with using sparkle glue.
I don’t get how his brain holds both the capacity to build and program a fucking computer …and the sense of humor similar to that of a fifth grader in health class.
When he threatened to pee in my window as I was flipping him off, I decided to leave.
Anyway, my night with Jon proves that I need to build an immunity. A thick skin. Everything that Jon did or said kept getting more and more terrible or persistent simply because-and I get this all the time-I have “the best shocked faces.”
Anyway, I’d better get some sleep now. Mom wants me to colour her hair burgundy tomorrow. She wants me to do it. She wants me to do it because she feels sorry for me and wants to pay me for something so I’ll have money.
She’s so cute.
I think what I will do is ask her sweetly for my Christmas present to be early {{no I’m not a hypocrite, I don’t celebrate Christmas……but my mother does………. and I do celebrate getting gifts from my mom}} because I am in desperate need of a massage, and I think I should probably get a real one, and not have Lech just walk on my back for two minutes.
John Kerry's just like any one of my bastard cheapass friends; I gave him $25 the other day and now he’s all buddy-buddy and wont leave me the fuck alone. I wanna write back and go "yo dude..... chill out with the ass-kissing emails okay pal? Actually…gimme my money back. I’m poor as hell and you’re a bastard for accepting that."
The sky was amazing this morning as I was driving away from Jon’s house. It was light blue with clouds that ranged from cotton candy pink to bruised mauve. It was one of those mornings where I was desperate to go to the beach and take pictures, except the beach was in Stone Harbor {{grrrrrrr}} and my camera is somewhere in north jersey being used to take snaps of the ugly UPS guy my aunt is fucking.
My language is appalling this early because my vocabulary and emotions are numb, so I for some reason feel the need to overcompensate for my lack of the ability to communicate my way of thinking. I guess I do this by just carelessly flinging blunt words around. It’s similar to the mood I’m in when I smoke a cigarette sometimes. The “…well I guess it’s not that important” mindset.
When I got home, I walked around my front yard for a while. The birds were going crazy. I stared at a huge spider web that spanned from the ground to a branch about seven feet up in the air for a good minute or so. There were no cars out and it was actually both enjoyable outside and quiet for the first time...ever. I felt very peaceful, as dumb as that does sound. I wanted to stay outside and paint or just sleep in my yard.
It was cool but warm at the same time. Warm and dewy, I guess. It reminded me of one of those mornings when you go camping, and it’s 6:15, after you’ve just fallen asleep, and the whole god damn world is awake, singing, and eating breakfast while you try to ignore the birds, who are apparently chirping through loudspeakers on the other side of your tent. Yeah. I definitely felt like there was a tent to be frustratingly or lazily packed up somewhere… half-assed and messily, with air still in it and leaves sticking to the sides.
I really wanted to be at the beach.
Anyway.
It would be an understatement for me to say my relationship with Jon is anything less than abusive. The whole night, I was threatened with drills and electrical tape and pieces of fruit. He kept almost beating me with his belt, almost pelting me with oranges, almost drilling holes into my legs... and completely crushing my newly manicured right paw under his chair {{Jon you're a bastard}}. Seriously, I spent the majority of the fourteen or so hours we spent together flinching, or being called names...all while laughing my arse off so I guess I really have no right to say anything.
Jon got up to use the bathroom, and I said "hurry up", which was a devastatingly bad idea because his knowledge that I was next..well.. it inspired Jon to aim NOWHERE NEAR THE ACTUAL BOWL. He hit the seat quite well though. Fucking bastard.
Ah yes, another pleasant moment I have to record {{you know, so I don’t lose this jewel of a memory somewhere down the line}} is the phone call with my mom that took place. I was talking to her while Jon was literally dissecting a mango, and with the noises he could make with the mango juice on his hands, proceeding to make the loudest masturbatory-related sounds ever accomplished with fruit juice. I highly, highly doubt I will ever be able to eat a mango again without the though of Jon and his charming slippery noises.
Throughout the night, Jon decorated the visit with a sequence of disturbing, drill-related behaviours including drilling holes in the desk… drilling things onto the desk.. almost drilling a himself in the neck….using the drill to pleasure himself…
Jon’s a humble fellow who finds joy in the simpler things in life.
Although… he did fall out of his chair, onto his DDR boards and into a position on the floor with his head in the seat where he couldn’t at all get up. He couldn’t get up, and while lying there he said to himself “OW! …..Now I know how Jesus felt.”
For how smart Jon is, I often want to just smack him in the neck for being such a jackass.
We went veggie shopping. We hit the Acme three times, and Superfresh once. While we were in Superfresh, we ran into one of Jon's friends who worked there. Halfway into the conversation, the guy looked at Jon and motioned at me. "Who uh..."
"Oh, this is Maria"
I love it when people can't introduce themselves or acknowledge [to me] that we've not yet been familiarized with each other.
Oh... and later that night, the same friend came over, sat on the bed next to me, and farted, I'd say, about three to four times.
Pleased to meet you, Matt.
Around our second or third visit to Acme, I noticed the crappy mocha drink Jon bought for me wasn't very tightly closed, so I took it out of my bag to look at it, and a few drops of it spilled in Jon’s car. He made me clean it with a..well.... feminine napkin that I had in my bag. My most glorious moment. The third time we went to Acme, we selected the Español because we’re pros at Self-Checkout now. So it was both a robot and a Mexican that took some fine white cashier’s job.
I’m going to hell for that because no one including myself will find that funny.
We bought SmartGround fake beef and had tacos for dinner. Though he made fun of everything while I was cooking it, and wouldn’t let me cut up the vegetables at first, Jon said he really liked it. I believe the words were “with this stuff, I could totally be vegetarian for the rest of my life.” For the rest of his life. Damn. I haven’t even made that commitment. Tomorrow I may become a butcher for all I know.
Okay, so, that’s the furthest from the truth. But G-damn. Coming from Jon, who undoubtedly basks in an inner feeling of superb conquest every time he eats a burger, it was strange to hear.
Jon decided to also buy flowers for his girlfriend. We picked out three bunches and I arranged them for him while he just sat there watching was inspired as I observed Jon carefully and thoughtfully positioning the flowers as a gift for his girlfriend.
He saw me off and ended the occasion like any graceful host would: he wrote “I [heart] cock” in the dew on my rear window; “SEX” and “call [cell phone number]” on the front; and “free sex. Call [cell phone number]” on the passenger windows.
Love you too Jon. It matches the bleeding cartoon penis with blue balls he decorated my lighter with using sparkle glue.
I don’t get how his brain holds both the capacity to build and program a fucking computer …and the sense of humor similar to that of a fifth grader in health class.
When he threatened to pee in my window as I was flipping him off, I decided to leave.
Anyway, my night with Jon proves that I need to build an immunity. A thick skin. Everything that Jon did or said kept getting more and more terrible or persistent simply because-and I get this all the time-I have “the best shocked faces.”
Anyway, I’d better get some sleep now. Mom wants me to colour her hair burgundy tomorrow. She wants me to do it. She wants me to do it because she feels sorry for me and wants to pay me for something so I’ll have money.
She’s so cute.
I think what I will do is ask her sweetly for my Christmas present to be early {{no I’m not a hypocrite, I don’t celebrate Christmas……but my mother does………. and I do celebrate getting gifts from my mom}} because I am in desperate need of a massage, and I think I should probably get a real one, and not have Lech just walk on my back for two minutes.
John Kerry's just like any one of my bastard cheapass friends; I gave him $25 the other day and now he’s all buddy-buddy and wont leave me the fuck alone. I wanna write back and go "yo dude..... chill out with the ass-kissing emails okay pal? Actually…gimme my money back. I’m poor as hell and you’re a bastard for accepting that."