(no subject)
Over a year. A whole fucking year, and sometimes I'm still struck with how fucking normal my life's turned out to be. Take away the island bullshit, the dinosaurs and the sex changes and the body switches and the fucking magical regenerating condoms, and what've you got left? He goddamn twenty year old house-husband, running around on the beach playing with his dog.
Stripped down to a pair of awful lime green board shorts printed with bright orange tropical flowers -- but hell, is anyone really even paying attention anymore? -- I get chased through the shallows with Max nipping at my heels, jumping up to paw at me happily and barking his fucking head off. Somewhere along the way he got kinda big, but he still hasn't really grown out of that clumsy, lumbering puppy phase, and more than once he tackles me hard enough to send me sprawling into the sand, snuffling and licking the saltwater off my face as soon as he can reach. He's an annoying little bastard, and I'm really not in the mood to admit that I kinda do love the little fucker. Whatever.
Pushing him off of me and getting to my feet, I make my way over to dry sand, shaking water out of my hair and flopping over next to my opened backpack. Last few weeks, all the bookcase'll give me are baby and parental planning books, but it'll take a hell of a lot to get me to show anyone the few of 'em I've got tucked away in my bag. You know... for later or whatever. No reason not to plan ahead, right? Christ... fuck it, just... Whatever. I've gone fucking insane, no way around it. Might was well just face fucking facts.
There's a joint perched between my lips, and lighter in my hand, but I don't really feel the need to light up right now. I let my eyes drift shut, sun beating down on me, and just sorta enjoy the quiet for a while.
'Cause fuck knows that shit never lasts long.
[Ex-hooker sprawled out in the sand with a excitable dog nearby. He's just sorta hanging out, so this is a pretty perfect time to meet him... The usual suspects welcome, as always. Late tags/Slowtime welcome.]