|Current mood:|| crazy|
|Current music:||"The Green Book" by Twiztid|
You Know It's a Bad Day When You Wake Up at 6am Then A Stripper Co-worker Grabs Your Tits
I am all by myself at La Casa de Evil Genuis. My roommate, Loki's, grandmother died.
(FYI-Loki, not his real name. It's his sort of alternate persona. Long story)
But I digress. Loki's dad calls at six this morning to tell him that his grandmother, with whom he was close, had died and he took it...let's just say badly and leave it at that. Women mourn publicly, men mourn privately. So Loki's sister and brother come to pick him up and usher him into a big family gathering in his grandmother's home city two hours away. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he went, goodbye is healthy and all that, but still I was sort of freaked because I'm used to him being here. I'm sort of insecure by myself. I am not, by nature, a solitary creature. I keep thinking just because Loki isn't here that monsters from the abyss are going to show up and eat my soul or some shit.
But this way I can sit around in my underwear at my computer, making a big ass cigarette ash mess, and drink all the vodka by myself, so I guess it's not so bad, really.
And also, I can truthfully update this autobiographical manifesto now that Loki isn't sitting right behind me reading the screen, but we'll run through the mundane how-was-my-day details first.
Went to work at the House of Pussy. (It's not really called that, but come on, that's what a strip club IS.) One of my very bisexual co-workers, Nicole, came up and grabbed my tits in two big handfuls and flicked her tongue at me for no apparent reason. I made good money today, though, but I had to talk to some weird old guy about how much I like to be spanked. (You tell dirty old men what they want to hear-dirty old men tip well.) Another one of the dancers called me "a cutie, but chubby" and I wanted to hiss some comment about the cellulite on her thighs but decided to be diplomatic and walk off and steal her customer instead.
Came home, and Tristan, Kristen, Paul, Carly, and Carly's boyfriend all came over. (These are a bunch of kids I met thorough Jonny B, a friend from Chicken Hell, that come over all the time and hang out and get drunk and all that other shit. There's probably 10 of them in all that alternate showing up whenever the mood takes them, and I love them like my own kids.) Then Jon, as in Blake's daddy Jon, came over and hung out until midnight.
Lately, he's been quite likeable. I don't know what changed, he's not an asshole anymore. I've come to enjoy his company. He comes around every once in a while, we hang out, then he goes away for a while. It's a nice arrangement.
Now, we will breach the subject of Loki.
Loki was a friend I met through Ben that used to be part of the underage drinking posse back in the day, when I was like 18, 19. He was 15, this big chubby kid that could drink like a trucker.
Life parted our ways, and we didn't speak for three years.
One day a month or so ago, Ben calls and says, "I'm stopping by, and I have Loki with me."
I say sweet, haven't seen him in a long while.
I'm expecting the 220-pound Loki I remember, but instead I'm lying on the couch, fucked to hell on Vicodins as I had just had my tubes tied (yea!) and in strides this tall, thin, hot as fucking hell guy with a goatee dressed in all black and a trenchcoat.
This is the textbook meaning of "dumbfounded."
Loki had lost his weight, gotten a new personality, and...well...might as well say it....gotten sexy as hell. I just sat and stared at my old friend and shook my head like fucking Christ, what do I have to say about THIS?
So he hung out and got drunk, then came over the next night and got drunk, then I mentioned I needed a roommate, he said hey, I'll live with you and BAM....here he is.
But tension abounds. Loki happens to not only be sexy, but an almost mirror image of my own personality, likes, dislikes, experiences, beliefs, everything. He'll be flirty, then normal. Flirty then normal. Flirty then normal.
You get the drift.
So I've become rather interested...okay, damned INFATUATED, with Loki, and he sits there, either aloof or ignoring my hints.
One night we got drunk and ended up in bed, and it was spectacular, but that's not all I want from him.
For an example on how very confusing Loki is....
One night he sits on my bed singing this Twiztid song to me (called "The Darkness") that goes "I'd give you everything if you'd just let me stand beside you."
The next he's saying "You got any hot single friends?"
The next we're in bed.
The next he's online, macking on hoes.
The next we're wrestling all over the living room. (I still have a bruise-he is not merciful.)
The next he's eyeing one of my friends up and down.
WHAT THE FUCK?
Why must every man I ever want to actually be with and care for be a confusing fucker?!
Right now I'm thinking it's one of two things 1)he has zero idea how I feel about him, he is truly clueless and needs to be told or 2) he knows and is ignoring it because he doesn't return the sentiment.
So I'm thinking, do I say fuck all, get drunk, tell him how I feel, and if I get shot down blame it on the alcohol? Or do I just keep my dumb mouth shut? Any advice, faithful minions of my journal? Some of you know Loki personally, as you have been to my house, and know the situation's true ins and outs that would take too much time to sum up, but for those of you who don't know us, this is the basic problem
I'm telling you, I know Loki and I would be a good pair. A destructive one, maybe, but still. A good one.
Maybe I'll tell him when he gets home tomorrow.
No, I won't. Not yet. Fuck some rejection. I'm too afraid of rejection to risk it.
But anyway, I'm tired at this hour for once in my life, so I will depart.
Send me some comments mo foes, so I know who's reading.
KFC EMPLOYEES I MISS YOU GUYS, TALK TO YOU ONE OF THESE DAYS! Hope all is well in Chicken Hell.
Goodnight, juggalos, ninjas, freaks, and hoes.
A fucked up little poem I wrote about Loki the other night when I was drunk:
Behind the curtains of insanity, you lurk, as if you're
a child, curious, seeing what a different
viewpoint is like
Your thoughts, blank as death, or active as a demon
I am unsure
(He was standing staring out the window when I wrote it-Loki is an odd creature.)