I called my grandparents today to thank them for their birthday card, and then... this happened.
Grandma: You're getting older! I'm getting older too. We all are.
Dropout: Haha, yeah. If only I could find the fountain of youth, then we wouldn't have to get old and die.
Grandma, who is, by definition, already old and close to death: [Silence]
Dropout: [Cough]
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The Town Halo
You know you did your birthday right when you wake up nakedish on your bathroom floor, head on a pillow, $75 in your coat pocket, and Scrabble books strewn about your living room.* And that is all I'm saying about that, mostly because I can't remember anything else about that. QUOTES!
I am a horrible person, but you knew that already:
Engaged Roommate: Is [Nick] short for anything, or can someone just be named Nick?
Dropout: [Nicholas]?
ER: Oh, OK.
Dropout: That was my grandfather's name.
ER: Nick or Nicholas?
Dropout: Both.
ER: So, they call him Nick?
Dropout: Well, now they call him Dead Grandfather.
ER: Holy shit.
Match made in pig heaven?
TAB's Coworker: I want popcorn
TAB's Coworker: ugh
TAB's Coworker: I am such a slob
Dropout: I spent all of today lying in bed with chips and salsa that I forgot to put out last night
TAB's Coworker: you are my dreamgirl
TAB's Coworker: let's go eat pork products
*This sentence reads more accurately if you remove the word "right."
I am a horrible person, but you knew that already:
Engaged Roommate: Is [Nick] short for anything, or can someone just be named Nick?
Dropout: [Nicholas]?
ER: Oh, OK.
Dropout: That was my grandfather's name.
ER: Nick or Nicholas?
Dropout: Both.
ER: So, they call him Nick?
Dropout: Well, now they call him Dead Grandfather.
ER: Holy shit.
Match made in pig heaven?
TAB's Coworker: I want popcorn
TAB's Coworker: ugh
TAB's Coworker: I am such a slob
Dropout: I spent all of today lying in bed with chips and salsa that I forgot to put out last night
TAB's Coworker: you are my dreamgirl
TAB's Coworker: let's go eat pork products
*This sentence reads more accurately if you remove the word "right."
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I am very very immature
Look, it's a circus. Men are pitching literal tents all over the place. I understand that. A mature, a.k.a. humorless person wouldn’t giggle at that. But if you're me and read Water for Elephants in a certain way, then man, that book was positively bursting with gay sex.
Teams of men are also raising enormous poles. (34)
I try to keep from looking desperate. The scent is overwhelming. I open my mouth, inhaling deeply—it’s like manna from heaven. It is manna from heaven. (35)
He cocks his head at the tent between us... “You been craning your neck since you got here. Wanna take a peek?”
“What about him?” I say, jerking my eyes toward Cecil. (38)
Camel drops to his knees.
“Ah Jesus,” says Earl. (54)
I look up. August peers down at me, grinning, his hair blowing in the wind.
I climb to the roof. He moves over, and when I sit down next to him he claps a hand on my shoulder. “Turn around, I want you to see something.”
He points down the length of the train. It stretches behind us like a giant snake, the linked cars jiggling and bending as it rounds a curve.
It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it, Jacob?” says August. I look back at him. He’s staring right at me, his eyes glowing. He clicks his tongue and winks. (60)
I scuttle over on hands and knees.
“August?” (61)
“Jacob!”
I turn. August strides toward me, his shirt crisp, his chin scraped smooth. His slick hair bears the recent impression of a comb.
“How are we this morning, my boy?” he asks.
“All right,” I say. “A little tired.” (72)
“Hurry up—I’m guessing we’ll be out of here in another half an hour.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Don’t mention it,” August says. “I’ll leave a shirt for you in the stock car.” (81)
“August told me about what happened this morning... He feels terrible. He likes you. He really does. It’s just… Well, it’s complicated.”
“Hey, it’s nothing,” I say. “It’s fine.” (92)
“He wants us to bring the meat.” (98)
I sit for close to an hour, staring at the grass between my feet. I pluck a few blades and roll them in my fingers, wondering why the hell it’s taking them so long to pull out. (102)
“What are you so sore about? Last night?”
The mere mention causes bile to rise in my throat.
“You embarrassed or something?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, would you just leave me alone?” I snap.
He is quiet. After a few seconds I roll over again. He’s still looking at me...
“Sorry,” I say. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Well, yeah—I think that was pretty obvious.” (144)
“I saw your act last night,” I say.
“Did you?”
“Yes,” I say, shaking my napkin and spreading it across my lap. “It’s… I don’t quite know what to say. It was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Oh?” says August, cocking one eyebrow. “Never?”
“No. Never.”
“Really.”
He stares at me without blinking. (203)
I can sense something out there, just beyond my grasp, hovering, waiting—and God help me if I’m not skidding toward it again, mouth open wide. (219)
We roll around, grunting, so close I can feel his breath on my face. Now I’m on top of him… Now he’s on top of me…Now we’re standing up again, grasping at each other’s collars and lapels… (246)
Teams of men are also raising enormous poles. (34)
I try to keep from looking desperate. The scent is overwhelming. I open my mouth, inhaling deeply—it’s like manna from heaven. It is manna from heaven. (35)
He cocks his head at the tent between us... “You been craning your neck since you got here. Wanna take a peek?”
“What about him?” I say, jerking my eyes toward Cecil. (38)
Camel drops to his knees.
“Ah Jesus,” says Earl. (54)
I look up. August peers down at me, grinning, his hair blowing in the wind.
I climb to the roof. He moves over, and when I sit down next to him he claps a hand on my shoulder. “Turn around, I want you to see something.”
He points down the length of the train. It stretches behind us like a giant snake, the linked cars jiggling and bending as it rounds a curve.
It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it, Jacob?” says August. I look back at him. He’s staring right at me, his eyes glowing. He clicks his tongue and winks. (60)
I scuttle over on hands and knees.
“August?” (61)
“Jacob!”
I turn. August strides toward me, his shirt crisp, his chin scraped smooth. His slick hair bears the recent impression of a comb.
“How are we this morning, my boy?” he asks.
“All right,” I say. “A little tired.” (72)
“Hurry up—I’m guessing we’ll be out of here in another half an hour.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Don’t mention it,” August says. “I’ll leave a shirt for you in the stock car.” (81)
“August told me about what happened this morning... He feels terrible. He likes you. He really does. It’s just… Well, it’s complicated.”
“Hey, it’s nothing,” I say. “It’s fine.” (92)
“He wants us to bring the meat.” (98)
I sit for close to an hour, staring at the grass between my feet. I pluck a few blades and roll them in my fingers, wondering why the hell it’s taking them so long to pull out. (102)
“What are you so sore about? Last night?”
The mere mention causes bile to rise in my throat.
“You embarrassed or something?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, would you just leave me alone?” I snap.
He is quiet. After a few seconds I roll over again. He’s still looking at me...
“Sorry,” I say. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Well, yeah—I think that was pretty obvious.” (144)
“I saw your act last night,” I say.
“Did you?”
“Yes,” I say, shaking my napkin and spreading it across my lap. “It’s… I don’t quite know what to say. It was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Oh?” says August, cocking one eyebrow. “Never?”
“No. Never.”
“Really.”
He stares at me without blinking. (203)
I can sense something out there, just beyond my grasp, hovering, waiting—and God help me if I’m not skidding toward it again, mouth open wide. (219)
We roll around, grunting, so close I can feel his breath on my face. Now I’m on top of him… Now he’s on top of me…Now we’re standing up again, grasping at each other’s collars and lapels… (246)
Sunday, January 11, 2009
I'm Queen of the Snack World
In the last 4 days, I've managed to eat, by myself, 3 giant bags of Baked Cheddar and Sour Cream Ruffles. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty gosh darn impressed by that.
And by impressed, I mean I really need to leave my apartment more often. And probably throw out the empty bags...
And by impressed, I mean I really need to leave my apartment more often. And probably throw out the empty bags...
Spot the misspelled medical condition
I met up with The Accidental Bitch and her roommate last night at the kind of club where guys lurk near you, and once you've bought your own drink, they walk up and ask what you're drinking. Newsflash, lurkers of the world: We know what you're doing. Don't try to pretend you're not cheap.
And speaking of cheap, on Friday night I walked over to a local bar to meet a guy who texted me at 10, asking if I was "hanging." (I told him I was out with friends but might be back around midnight. Yeah, I was at home reading a book.) In the 3.5 times I've hung out with him, he hasn't once offered to buy me a drink. I know he says he's broke, but these are $5 drinks, and he's trying to sleep with me. Give me a break. Not that I would've accepted it this time, since I mainly went over there to tell him I'm not going to be some late-night booty call.* Even if the swingers hadn't completely turned me off of sex, he's kind of a drunk asshole, so fuck him.
Besides, who hits on someone by calling her "spectacular"? That's weird.
Right, so as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. The other type of lurker was one who thinks words are beneath him, as emotions are better expressed by dragging you from your friends and humping your leg. I was unenthusiastically dancing with one of those types when he misheard something I said and responded with "Really? That's cool, I do too."
Dropout: What? Two what?
Lurker: I thought you were talking about your kids.
Dropout: No... You have two kids?
Lurker: I have one little girl, blah blah something I didn't care enough to catch.
Dropout, smiling awkwardly and turning back to the group: Oh.
And that was the end of that. Who would start talking about their kids with some strange dude after 2 minutes of dancing? Shit, I should've told him I didn't have kids yet, winkwink, nawmean, I'm due in June. Just cruisin' the clubs to find a baby daddy. Like you do.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this, so let's top this mothereffer off with a quote!
TAB: Your hair smells awesome, what is it?
Dropout: Head & Shoulders and Pantene Pro-V.
TAB: Nice!
TAB and Dropout: [High-five for sexy dandruff shampoo]
*Unrelated quote from later that night, after one guy decided his couch was too far away and laid down on the floor.
Guy: Yeah, I like to sleep on a wood floor. It's good for my back.
Dropout: I feel ya. I used to sleep on a bed of nails. It was really good for my spinal bifida.
And speaking of cheap, on Friday night I walked over to a local bar to meet a guy who texted me at 10, asking if I was "hanging." (I told him I was out with friends but might be back around midnight. Yeah, I was at home reading a book.) In the 3.5 times I've hung out with him, he hasn't once offered to buy me a drink. I know he says he's broke, but these are $5 drinks, and he's trying to sleep with me. Give me a break. Not that I would've accepted it this time, since I mainly went over there to tell him I'm not going to be some late-night booty call.* Even if the swingers hadn't completely turned me off of sex, he's kind of a drunk asshole, so fuck him.
Besides, who hits on someone by calling her "spectacular"? That's weird.
Right, so as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. The other type of lurker was one who thinks words are beneath him, as emotions are better expressed by dragging you from your friends and humping your leg. I was unenthusiastically dancing with one of those types when he misheard something I said and responded with "Really? That's cool, I do too."
Dropout: What? Two what?
Lurker: I thought you were talking about your kids.
Dropout: No... You have two kids?
Lurker: I have one little girl, blah blah something I didn't care enough to catch.
Dropout, smiling awkwardly and turning back to the group: Oh.
And that was the end of that. Who would start talking about their kids with some strange dude after 2 minutes of dancing? Shit, I should've told him I didn't have kids yet, winkwink, nawmean, I'm due in June. Just cruisin' the clubs to find a baby daddy. Like you do.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this, so let's top this mothereffer off with a quote!
TAB: Your hair smells awesome, what is it?
Dropout: Head & Shoulders and Pantene Pro-V.
TAB: Nice!
TAB and Dropout: [High-five for sexy dandruff shampoo]
*Unrelated quote from later that night, after one guy decided his couch was too far away and laid down on the floor.
Guy: Yeah, I like to sleep on a wood floor. It's good for my back.
Dropout: I feel ya. I used to sleep on a bed of nails. It was really good for my spinal bifida.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Happy birthday, 2009!
Hope your new year's was as filled with cute Germans, accidentally halved bar tabs, lip-gloss lesbians, reindeer sweaters, and fake palm-readers as mine was!
Unless I don't like you, in which case I hope you: fell up stairs, had a creeper sit down next to you and silently stare for five minutes, had two drinks spilled on you, dropped your coat in a sticky puddle, waited 20 minutes for a train that never came, and discovered painful bruises on your knees. Just like me.
Unless I don't like you, in which case I hope you: fell up stairs, had a creeper sit down next to you and silently stare for five minutes, had two drinks spilled on you, dropped your coat in a sticky puddle, waited 20 minutes for a train that never came, and discovered painful bruises on your knees. Just like me.
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