Monday, November 26, 2007

Love at First Sight


The music had been pumping through the sound system all night. Michael Jackson songs from when he was black were a favorite of those whose ears would be ringing for days. Lay a dance track on top of it and people go ape shit, similar to the way they did when Michael Jackson wasn't white.


It had been a long week, so he welcomed this Friday night with open arms and a thirst for the good stuff. He drank his fair share of PBR, chased by a couple of High Life's after the tall boys ran out. Dancing wasn't his thing, but he liked watching. When he was a child he would laugh as his mother shimmied around the living room to the records that Michael Jackson had released when he still appeared to be from this planet. Those were good memories of not only his mother, but the supposed King of Pop.


The Georgia humidity had turned the place into a fucking sauna, but the people refused to succumb to the demands of the sweltering heat. They had to keep moving, dancing, pulsating and most importantly, forgetting about their lives outside this building. Leave your bull shit at the door. This was fucking Never Land.


One of the girls stood out from the rest. She wasn't dancing for anyone's attention. Her movement to the music was for herself. Fuck getting laid. This is where she found orgasmic pleasure.

It wasn't until he had finished up the last of his beer that he noticed her. Most men were drawn to her choice of apparel, but that's not what captivated him, it was her freedom. Standing by the door waiting for the song to end, his eyes could not be averted.


Like a sixth sense she felt someone watching her. She opened her eyes as the music escalated and zeroed in on her singular audience. Blushing because he had been caught, his body stammered, but his sole focus was intrigued, so she did what so many men wanted, put on a show.


Locking in on his eyes, every bend of the knee and swing of the hip became for his pleasure. With his lanky frame, sand paper face and messy hair that appeared to be trying to escape from underneath his mesh hat, he rarely was the adoration of a beautiful woman. "Fuck it!" he thought, he wasn't going to let this pass him by.


With his beams on high and bright he became enveloped for the last two and a half minutes of this fantasy. Subconsciously he named her Billie Jean or BJ or maybe it was just Sally, it didn't fucking matter. She was all he ever wanted in an object, a virgin bride or a cum receptacle, it was all the same to him, a big fucking hole with a pulse.


While his lust grew wilder and more manic, he imagined them alone violating one another, stretching things out and getting bloody. Their fluids running together blending into a shade reminiscent of a rotting orange in a trash can.


When the song concluded their sunken eyes penetrated each other's sockets, like two dykes ass-to-ass with a silicone dildo bridging the gap. He decided to make his move. "Now or never." he muttered under his breath. The floor seemed to be lit with each foot step that he took. Every forward motion shot doses of adrenaline and testosterone through him as if this experience was climactic for his whole body.


As he approached her, he extended his hand knowing that it would probably be the only thing that would be pointing at her tonight. She reached out to him. With their moment coming to a breaking point she briefly paused before making connection. Shrugging his shoulders, his mouth formed a smirked and she sighed.


He handed her a crumpled up dollar bill. She put it in her garter with the rest of the tips that she had made that night and made her way back to the stage.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

I am your father.


"Are you even listening to me?"

The Krispy Kreme like glaze that was covering his face instantly melts away.

"Huh? Yeah I'm listening."

"What was I just talking about then?" She says as she fidgets around eventually crossing her legs in the least provocative way as possible.

Shit.

He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry. I've just been distracted lately."

Downing the rest of her coffee as though it might ease some sort of pain, she stands to her feet and unleashes her insecurities.

"Well, I'm sorry that I bore you."

He shakes his head. "It's not like that."

"Another girl?"

"I wish."

Shit.

"I'm out of here." She grabs her bag and heads towards the door, all the while giving him a look that could rival the Death Star's Super Laser.

He half way stands up to chase her down, but ends up just muttering to himself, "I didn't mean it like that."

The people in the shop are talking and laughing without a care in the world. All of his cares are focused on another world.

"Maybe it's not another world." He thinks to himself.

"Maybe I'm just crazy." He says under his breath.

"You know, you're not the first one to think that."

He rockets out of his seat. "Please not here!"

His eyes survey the room to see if anyone else heard.

"Don't worry they can't hear me. They're not listening."

He cautiously sits back down. "If they listened could they here you?"

"They could, but it would sound different to them."

"Why is that?"

The Voice begins to laugh.

"Everyone hears me differently and for starters, not everyone is as obsessed with Star Wars as you are."

Crossing his arms he reclines back. "Why do you think I'm obsessed with Star Wars?"

"Because you make me sound like James Earl Jones in your head."

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Fat Head

Bill was fat.

He was so fat that he could actually eat off of his belly while he was standing up. The idea of being furniture-like had never crossed his mind before, but he was enjoying it. The coffee table was out by the dump a few days later.

Bill wasn't always fat. When he was younger he was very skinny with a metabolism that could compete with any Zimbabwean. Cross Country was his favorite sport in high school, along with basketball and swimming. Often times he thought about how he could swim like a dolphin back then, but now he was a whale.

One time he had a dream that he was at a swim meet and was trying to glide through the water like a dolphin in his new whale body, but he couldn't keep up. So he just waited for the other swimmers to come back the other direction. When they finally arrived 5.7 seconds later he opened up his big mouth like a whale would and he ate them all, every single one of them. And they were tasty!

When he woke up from this dream he didn't know whether it was a nightmare or not. Trying to make a decision on this matter, he went to the kitchen and made himself a tuna sandwich, which claimed to be dolphin free.

After much thought, Bill decided that it was not a nightmare, but actually a right of passage. He had evolved. He was no longer weak, he was strong. He once was lost, but now he had been found.

Hallelujah!

Sunday, November 04, 2007

The proof is in the pelvic thrust.

If we can't see eye to eye

Maybe we can see thigh to thigh.

Take the division in our heads

And make some friction in the bed.

Now I will and you won't

And the cycle will start again.