Mjarc
My previous post from late last night wasn't entirely true. Think of it more like reverse psychology. If I know Matt, there's no way that he's going to want to see me naked, so if I put it out there that I might in fact be naked if he fucks with me this morning, then the chances of him actually messing around will narrow. Me smart. I didn't sleep in the nude. I didn't crouch behind the door. Hell, I didn't even set my alarm clock for 9:56am ... I slept all the way until 10:30am today, and it felt fantastic.
I like how Zook tears apart pretty much 99% of everything that I write. I'm sure that he's picturing me all flustered and pasty and pissed off as I write this, but I'm not. Got over that a while ago. I'd just like to go through the topics so far this week that he's rambled about only b/c I brought them up and he disagrees: (1) Alicia Keys. Zook hates her, b/c she claims to be ghetto. Stars have to have some kind of persona. Give 'em a break. If she's "ghetto" and that somehow makes Zook and myself "ghetto", then ghetto I shall be. More street cred, yo. (2) Queen, the band, is one of my longest running favorite rock groups. My dad practically raised me on them, and I somehow managed to get a majority of my friends in grade school and junior high to listen to them, too, with the help of the Pike. As far as I can tell, and I do have some kind of musical upbringing, they do not, in fact, "suck" as Zook points out. Brian May can take a power solo any damn time. And Freddie Mercury, RIP, can flail his naturally bucked teeth in my stereo any day. (3) Our naked apartment. I've been naked maybe once or twice this year. I still haven't done anything like I did last year when I rubbed my bare buttcrack on Zook's doorhandle (oh, I'm sorry, is he in a coma?), but I have been derobing a bit more frequently. For example, two nights ago I proclaimed myself done with shirts until the next morn, and I'll be damned if I wasn't done with them. My nakedness is only a reflection of Matt's nakedness. I'm almost up to a twice a day avg. with that kid waving his schlong around everytime I'm in the room. Do I like his schlong? No. Do I enjoy seeing Matt naked? No, I cover my eyes every time. So, I figure the best way to get rid of his nudeness is to fight fire with fire. The last thing that anyone wants to see is me naked. Guaranteed. If I keep it up, maybe Matt will put two and two together and stop running around the apartment like a three year old just done with a bath.
If you'll excuse me, I have to get into character for my next performance at two.
My previous post from late last night wasn't entirely true. Think of it more like reverse psychology. If I know Matt, there's no way that he's going to want to see me naked, so if I put it out there that I might in fact be naked if he fucks with me this morning, then the chances of him actually messing around will narrow. Me smart. I didn't sleep in the nude. I didn't crouch behind the door. Hell, I didn't even set my alarm clock for 9:56am ... I slept all the way until 10:30am today, and it felt fantastic.
I like how Zook tears apart pretty much 99% of everything that I write. I'm sure that he's picturing me all flustered and pasty and pissed off as I write this, but I'm not. Got over that a while ago. I'd just like to go through the topics so far this week that he's rambled about only b/c I brought them up and he disagrees: (1) Alicia Keys. Zook hates her, b/c she claims to be ghetto. Stars have to have some kind of persona. Give 'em a break. If she's "ghetto" and that somehow makes Zook and myself "ghetto", then ghetto I shall be. More street cred, yo. (2) Queen, the band, is one of my longest running favorite rock groups. My dad practically raised me on them, and I somehow managed to get a majority of my friends in grade school and junior high to listen to them, too, with the help of the Pike. As far as I can tell, and I do have some kind of musical upbringing, they do not, in fact, "suck" as Zook points out. Brian May can take a power solo any damn time. And Freddie Mercury, RIP, can flail his naturally bucked teeth in my stereo any day. (3) Our naked apartment. I've been naked maybe once or twice this year. I still haven't done anything like I did last year when I rubbed my bare buttcrack on Zook's doorhandle (oh, I'm sorry, is he in a coma?), but I have been derobing a bit more frequently. For example, two nights ago I proclaimed myself done with shirts until the next morn, and I'll be damned if I wasn't done with them. My nakedness is only a reflection of Matt's nakedness. I'm almost up to a twice a day avg. with that kid waving his schlong around everytime I'm in the room. Do I like his schlong? No. Do I enjoy seeing Matt naked? No, I cover my eyes every time. So, I figure the best way to get rid of his nudeness is to fight fire with fire. The last thing that anyone wants to see is me naked. Guaranteed. If I keep it up, maybe Matt will put two and two together and stop running around the apartment like a three year old just done with a bath.
If you'll excuse me, I have to get into character for my next performance at two.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home