You know, no one had a clue about him. Odd kid with a funny accent. But he was smart. Maybe too smart for his own good. When I saw him again, he wasn’t all beat up like I’d expected. And get this, he was going to the high school on the bottom of Cedar Street. Somehow, he made his way there. Prolly made friends with weirdos like him.
Then, next thing you know, he had a ten-speed bike. He rode it down there to school, and then rode it back up.
That was a lot of travel on a fucking ten-speed. Prolly showed up all sweaty for classes, and then got home all more sweaty. I saw how he was form a cold place. I guess he became used to the desert air.
So, next time I see him, he wasn’t wearing his cord pants and cheesy ass cheap velour sweater, all Maine pretty. Nope. His momma made his clothes.
From patterns. I figured she got those at a sewing store or someshit. One thing. She did that embroider by hand. On the left tit. Not an alligator. Nope. It was Ocean Pacific.
Best part: she got it wrong. It was turned around, like him. Losers!
It was o.d.
Odd?
Or, O.D. like, ya know, over-dose?
Hey, don’t bust my balls. I’m just saying. Sad. I’m trying to tell a story.
This is what I listened to when I was making my plans to dominate. The ladies danced to it, and that’s why I learned how to dance. That Mainer never did. Prolly still don’t.
So anyways,
I talked to him that day I saw him. To try to get a clue about him. Showed him my home. He saw the big TV, the one on the floor in the corner of our living room.
He invited me into his apartment. Man, these were what they called Duplexes, and I ain’t talking about condoms. I didn’t share a wall with them Mainers. My fam shared our own wall with the other apartment, like that was a revolving door for a long thread of short-time renters, a bunch of nasty folks who the final ones got the cockroaches introduced, and fuck that shit. Next thing you know, inspections everywhere, and chemicals, and
Wait. That’s another whole thing.
Return now.
Nothing inside is room, just his clothes on the floor. I said, “where’s your bed?”
He said, “That’s my bed. I sleep on my week’s clothes until laundry day. I keep shaking them out, and then make my bed each night. It gets pretty good the night before laundry day. That’s all my clothes, except what I’m wearing. I got my sheets too.
Night of laundry day, all I got is my clean sheet on the floor, and the other sheet for cover. Makes you hard, like the cold tile. But we keep a clean house. No crumb is left behind on our counters.”
Huh.
I had no fucking clue. It was like a jail cell or someshit. Except, he could go out. You know, that was what he did. I saw him. He explored. I had no idea what he was looking for. No idea at all.
When he was done talking about all his bed and clean house and shit, I asked him, I said, “You got a radio, huh? And a tape recorder?”
I mean, that looked like some crazy shit. I checked to see if he was recording me. He wasn’t, and he just laughed.
He said, “I love music. All of it. If it’s good.” Then he played something he taped when he was off exploring. Prolly from a movie at the Regency or someshit.
He said, “I record music on my tapes. I record over the old finds, and record new ones, like from Dr. Demento. I need to but more tapes. Some of these are getting worn out.”
Yeah, that shit sounded demented to me.
Then he asked me what I thought about Hitchhiker’s Guide on Public Radio. I had no clue. Hell, he even had recordings of those. I listened. That was some fucked up goofy shit.
That’s why I called him the Spaceman.
I think that kinda stuck with him.
He was a spacey explorer, poor bastard.
You get me?
-Dedicated to P
.
CHRONIDES 2
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- mistah willies
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Re: CHRONIDES 2
Okay ok. Just don't wake your uncle 'Lester. He will just get pissy.
Can we drink now? ---peetie44
At rock bottom, there is no down. ---The Oett
^ ^ ^ Yes his entire cutlery set and all utensils are made from assorted broken bottles.--- The Artful Detective
Just remember Hugh: a good cocktail in a shitty glass is better that a shitty cocktail in a pretty glass.---The Badfellow
I'll buy the first round if you promise to stop being a cunt. --- Dear Booze
At rock bottom, there is no down. ---The Oett
^ ^ ^ Yes his entire cutlery set and all utensils are made from assorted broken bottles.--- The Artful Detective
Just remember Hugh: a good cocktail in a shitty glass is better that a shitty cocktail in a pretty glass.---The Badfellow
I'll buy the first round if you promise to stop being a cunt. --- Dear Booze
- Artful Drunktective
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Re: CHRONIDES 2
Yeah he will just want you to sit on his lap again.mistah willies wrote: ↑Sat Oct 07, 2017 9:51 pmOkay ok. Just don't wake your uncle 'Lester. He will just get pissy.
Okole maluna!
- Artful Drunktective
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Re: CHRONIDES 2
No Pumpkin you already have a dead cat but you can have some Cheesy Poofs instead.
Okole maluna!
Re: CHRONIDES 2
But mommmmm,
can I get drunk tonight, that bum`s leftovers look super delicious
can I get drunk tonight, that bum`s leftovers look super delicious
Drink!