Sunday, December 6, 2009

The pitch


You left Ghost on on the TV and I finally made out from the corner icon that Swayze fudgin' died! Swayze tribute! oh mama.. I got sick on the carpet, and then I kept watching till the end and past Rodehouse and Dirty Dancing, yes Dirty Fudgin' Dancing, and I got into the icecream stash and then the valium and E stash and finally the scotch stash, which was hard to get into, and then I vomited on the carpet again, over there, a lot, and then some other depressing movie came on that I'd rather not discuss right now, OK it was The Big Chill, and now I'm like really emotionally depleated and realizing I took too much E and then drank way too much water and more scotch and I really think that if you just hold me and hug me and scratch my ear and pet my face and let me like get busy with my tongue all over your face and like, you know, let me into your Chang stash, like your junior, not your senior, of course, then I might just like hit rock bottom and die in the night of freaked out lonely souldom and I might just be kind of OK tomorrow. Maybe. Please. Now.

No comments:

Post a Comment