Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Living Life On A Razor's Edge - Part 2

"I'm sorry I crushed your femur, really," I sputtered, floundering around in the tub like a large flounder, "it's just, I'm really hungover and that fucker steve has me all frazzled and I woke up in the wrong dumpster-"
"My dumpster"
"Oh, shit."
"Yeah. Mistake"
I coughed as Commander Terror sent my soldiers to explore the upper regions of my stomach.
"Uhmm, look. I know how you must feel. If someone stole my dumpster I would-"
"And crushed your femur."
"Right, and crushed my femur, I would want to do something about it, too."
"I am going to crush your femur and remove your testicles."
"That's going to be difficult considering where they are." She didn't understand. But she looked ready to pounce. It was then that I realised that this woman was becoming a serious inconvenience to me, and I refuse to let a bitch be any problem of mine.

Not even one.

It was time to be daring. 
"Admire my penis!" I shrieked as I leapt to my feet. Several seconds of furious, noisy hip thrusting passed before I concluded that I had her as confused as possible. I dashed past her into the bedroom and located the closest conceivable weapon (a bottle of Captain Morgan's finest). Turning, I found the bitch that was not my problem in hot pursuit of my danglers. I lifted the bottle into the air,
"Have a drink on me!" I shouted as I brought the captain down on her head with a resounding clang. She hit the shag hard, and did not get up.

Approximately my reaction. Only I was nakeder.

I found a pair of sunglasses on the nightstand and slipped them on,
"You should watch your alcohol next time." I told her. Yeahhhhhh.

Feeling altogether far too good to get dressed, and far too awesome to not do pushups, I did pushups. After I was done doing pushups, I stole a suit from the closet and left through the front door. 


Now, I should probably fast forward to my encounter with that butterfuck Steve, because my story still hasn't reached the part where I go buy drugs. 

I ring for Steve's door and wait  for a response. It took him about forty five seconds to get to the intercom.

Because he's fat and wears a thong.

"Who's there?" He asked, breathing heavily.
"It's me, Travis, a homeless woman stole my keys. Can you let me in?"
"That blows" He heaved with a chuckle, "How do you lose to a woman?" That fucker, I was not going to look like a dildo in front of a dildo.
"No, it's alright, I beat her unconscious with a bottle of Morgan."
"Then where are your keys?"
"..." Shit, "Fuck you Steve, let me in."
"Fine, jackass. I have someone you can talk to about your drug problem, you know." He sighed as he buzzed me in. 

That fucker. If only he could have seen my new suit.


The rest of that day was spent admiring my new suit in the mirror, feeding my cat, and touching myself. But around 8 PM I made a startling discovery.
I was out of drugs.
I would have called my girlfriend, but I don't have one; I sold her for an eighth and a spot of E. I therefore assessed my money. I had 40 bucks. Fuck yeah that's enough for two grams from my favorite dealer; I felt like weed that night, nothing too wild, not after last night. So I picked up the phone and called Dushane.
"Yo my bro, you available? I need some marijuana weed" I never know how to talk to dealers.
"Nah man, not right now, but I'll hook you up with one of my guys, where you at?" 
"My pad, can he meet me in the alley out back?"
"Hold on a sec." Lots of shouting, what sounded like gunfire, someone shouting that someone had been shot.
"Sorry, bitches up in our shit. Yeah, he'll meet you in 20 minutes." 
"Okay dude, good luck with the bitches and shit. Oh and how's my ex-girlfriend?" He hung up.

What I wish I was when I talk to my dealer VS What I am when I talk to my dealer.

The alley was shrouded in darkness and I had no idea what to expect. I waited, seated on my favorite dumpster, wondering when Lindsay would be back.

To Be Continued... (the third and last part will come soon)


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