I've noticed these days that my room is speckled with the parts of disintegrated insects. They come to my window, attracted by the light, only to be sucked through my fan, torn to pieces and then blown onto my bed. Sometimes at night I can hear the larger ones meeting their maker, dumping their chromosomes, memories and learned behaviours into the great digital dustbin that surrounds us. Bazzzzerrrrchchchchchtck! And when fireflies go through, the light show can be spectacular.
Leah and her mother left, never to be seen again this evening. While the others watched Midnight Cowboy, Sara Poiron called from Philadelphia. She was enthusiastic in her usual pathologically obsessed way about the prospect of buying an abandoned town in the midwest. Jessika had learned about it on the Oprah Winfrey Show.
Sara Poiron humiliating Monster Boy in a hypothetical scenario.
Once Sara has accumulated enough money humiliating the legions of Philadelphia perverts, she intends to buy Moocow. She hopes I'll help out some with my savings. Then she, Jessika and I can form a cult in the style of Heaven's Gate and cause a big stir in Middle America. Or so goes Sara's plan. She was very excited about this idea, and she kept asking me "aren't you excited about Moocow, Arkansas?" and "Don't you want to form a cult?" and I'd agree in a monotone that indeed I was/did.
Sara also expressed a longing to return to Charlottesville. She suspects there are enough perverts in this town for her to set up a house of sadism here.
Monster Boy has a tall, narrow vase that he seems to view as an enormous shot glass; it was one of the things dumpster-dived from the Salvation Army. Once the rum was flowing, he drank a big shot from it. Then Rory drank a somewhat bigger shot from the vase. Naturally, Monster Boy then felt the need to better Rory. Little marks were used to keep track of the size of each shot. Predictably, I found this display of macho drinking to be foolish and dangerous. It seemed like a waste of rum considering that, if left to continue, Rory and Monster Boy would soon be puking all over the place. So while the others (mostly the girls) hooted words of encouragement, I told them they were acting like 14 year olds trying alcohol for the first time. That remark seemed to be what it took to breathe some rationality into the room. Which was good. Rory and MonsterBoy got nice and sloshed, but there was no puking.
Let's see, we watched home videos and played Guns 'n' Roses, Black Sabbath and the Fixx on the record player (my records seem to work best in mixed crowds for some reason). Then Matthew Hart bought a deck of cards at the Fastmart and we tried to play Asshole, but that didn't work too well.
When the rum ran out we picked up another litre in the Dodge Dart, stopping at Plan Nine on the way back to buy a Wu Tang Clan tape. Virginia and Matthew are especially fond of the Wu Tang Clan, whichis a rap ensemble.
Returning to Observatory Avenue, we witnessed Meghan and Rory arm in arm. Meghan said they were "trying out" this boyfriend/girlfriend thing that Matthew has proposed, advocated and nurtured. I suspect, however, that it is more tongue-in-cheek than anything.
Utkhan the Turkish guy had arrived, as he often does when my eyes are blurry from drink. He usually hangs out with Deya. Tonight, though, Deya and Monster Boy were engaged in a protracted heart-to-heart conversation. Meanwhile, our drunken girls were spray painting a big yellow graffito in the street.
At some point Rory said he thought I was pretty cool, and wondered how I had managed to stay so young. "Virgins" I told him, leading him to think I'd popped many a cherry in my day.
When things got boring, I went off to take my pre-work nap. Diana came by and tried to wake me up, but I would not be moved.
In case you haven't noticed, I have a guestbook now. I like the idea of more interactivity. Unlike most people, I encourage negative feedback. It keeps things more interesting. I'm using the same guestbook service as Ladies of the Heart and Dreamdweller.com. All I have to do now is find the right MIDI file.
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