another crack?

we had a very short in-personal conversation on the phone. he said hello, i said hello,he told me what i needed to do for tomorrow, gave me his excuse, and hung up before i could say byebye.
the next mourning i waited at the bus stop at eight. it was cloudy and cool, the soft breezes blew my lace pseudo wedding dress around my legs.
she was still asleep, wrapped up softly in the sheets, her long hair everywhere and her face burried in the pillow. i thought about how i am not a morning person.
i watched the cool breeze blow the burger king wrappers past my feet. the bus came. i watched the town roll by and soon i was in the city.
i walked from the station to the bank. the building was a skyscraper and in side they had a pleasant little fountain. starbucks and suits were everywhere, and here i was in my lacy dress with a thermas full of tea. i took the elevator to his floor, just like he had curtly told me on the phone. in the elevator two bitchy women were looking at me and saying how they'd hire anyone. i got to his floor "accounting" and luckily he was waiting in the reception room so i didnt have to deal with the receptionist.
"lets go to the parking garage."
he took me to the bottom level, the basement of the building. he started to talk to me.
i didnt understand what he was saying.
two teenagers were sitting in their car at the other end of the empty parking lot.
he was much older than i was. in his thirties.
he told me to go down town, which confused me because i thought i was downtown but apparently i was only in the buisness district. there he would meet me for lunch at a fastfood chinese joint. he said more, but i didnt understand.
i was trying to not let the experience change me, i tried to stay the same.
i sat in the food court infront of "KUNG POW" for an hour before he came.
he bought me awful food that smelled like month old sticky candy. i didnt eat it.
at lunch he tried to make small talk. i didnt participate, i hate that shit. i just watched the people walking outside. the teenage boys with scateboards yelling faggot. the buissness men like the one i was with. the women who were getting paid less, and most of all the minorities and homeless. urban decay at its finest.
soon enough he got the message and moved on to the real reason i dragged my ass down to the city. but just as he was about to show me the files, some collegues from his office came in and he had to put them away. after exchanging curtisies, he lowly whispered
"lets go to the park."
we got up quietly and threw away our uneatin meals, and put our plastic trays on top of the bage trashcan with "THANK YOU" engraved on it.
soon we got to the park with the man made lake, the jogging path, the dog walkers, and most importantly the wire metal trashcans so you wouldnt be tempted to let your dog shit laying around.
we sat on the park bench watching a six year old girl sucking on her coconut popsicle. she was wearing the too-cute black pattent leather shoes that have one strap, and a little flower-patterned sundress. she stood for a while and then slowly but clumsily sat down. we could see her cotton underware. it was a hot day in june and the posicle was melting faster then she could eat it. we watched as lines of liquid ran from her hand down her arm, and watched the sticky mess around her mouth grow and shimmer in the sun. i turned my head and watched him watch her. i looked back at the six year old. now that i think about it, our dresses were very similar. after about five minutes all that was left of the posicle was the stick. she got up, wiped her mouth and walked over to the trash can to through away the thin wood slice. he got up, and i followed. he walked briskly through the park, and i had to jog to keep up. clowds were begining to develop, but i couldnt tell if it would actually rain or not. once we were out of the park, i followed him through three intersections to an old bank building.
"wait here." he said. i did. ten minutes later he came back wearing a black trenchcoat and carrying a newspaper.
"this way." i followed him through some back alleys and other places. places i didnt feel comfertable wearing my dress. i found myslef craving coconut. i thought about how the girl must have slices of cocoanut caught in between her teeth. and i thought about how he had looked at that girl.
"ive rented a room for you." he said.
"what? i only live 25 miles away i dont need a room."
"i want to know where you are at all times. anyway, do you really want to do the 2 hour commute everyday?".
"fine."
he led me to his car that was about two blocks away. his parking meter had expired.

i had split ends

savior

any psuedo intellectual must use the term "ironic" at least six times a day.

joseph and the ____ dreamcoat

dont do ACID

lets go political

i only do this because i cant think of anything to write.

i'm not trendy (photo dump)

the doctors office or urban legend in the making

Samantha had been experience a sore throat for some time now, as well as some difficulty breathing. she decided to go to the doctors office.
she got the appropriate paper work from the older crabby receptionist. she filled out her social security number and whatever else, and waited 45 minutes before she was called in to the steril doctors room. she sat down on the crinkly hygenic wax paper that was covering the cold bed. she was spacing off looking at the reflection of the florecent lights on the linolium floor when Dr. Zehnisky came in. he asked her what the problam was and swabbed her throat. samantha almost gagged as he took it out.
on the end of the swab was a big white slimy maggot.
both Samatha and Dr. Zehnisky were suprised.
the doctor decided to ask samantha some questions, they went somwhat like this:
"do you have a boyfriend samantha?"
"yes."
"are you two sexually active?"
"yes."
"have you recently participated in oral sex?"
"yes."
"hmm i see. the only plausible way i could think of this happening is if your boyfriend was partaking in sexual relations with either animals or corpses, where he might contract some fly eggs. where does your boyfriend work samantha?"
"the morgue."

wire hangers remind me of back door abortions

clearly i overestimated the situation.

at lunch he tried to make small talk. i didnt participate, i hate that shit. i just watched the people walking outside. the teenage boys with scateboards yelling faggot. the buissness men like the one i was with. the women who were getting paid less, and most of all the minorities and homeless. urban decay at its finest.
soon enough he got the message and moved on to the real reason i dragged my ass down to the city.






i really have no clue where to go with this.