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I Didn't Meme to Endite You to My LAN party... |
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It's tuesday for me even though it's all thursday and stuff. It's been tuesday for most of the week now. It's really starting to get on my nerves, like most things, but not as badly as my odd self-tiddling habit seems to be irritating the towering bestpectacled man crouched next to me. It probably dosn't help that the organization he sort of tyrannatifies is a hefty play on the word 'nerve', either.
"Would you quit. Touching. Your. Face. Please." The last bit was said through gritted teeth 'cuz I kinda mighta accidently scratched behind my ear while he was stating this. "Your own FATHER took a spill on the pavement and HE hasn't once even scratched it for Christ' sake!"
I reverently surpass the urge to make an off joke about any and all references he has ever made or ever will make to any persons assosciated with religion in general, assisted by my one-eyed legendary friend who comments, "That you know of." He's playing chinese checkers with his nobody. I had no idea Xigbar could even sit still for that long. Drugs are amazing.
"I don't stare at the guy." "You stare at her." Auron makes a lazy motion at me and I smile at him, but upon reflection to the act, I cannot recall exactly why. Forget what I am doing; Gendo's far more interested in it than I am, apparently. Why else would he be sitting on the floor in front of my desk staring up at Mr. Sexy with that... y'know, vagrant look. Something between grown men and lost puppies, I swear...
Xigbar must've lost his match, and wher ehe normally would have ranted and cursed and all manner of arm-flailing, the drugs have a half-assed, sloshy effect on everything everything everything he attempts to do. So we get a mumbling, half-gesturing hemianopsid who is going to fall over onto his right side here in a minute 'cuz he's totally lost his balance sitting all the way up there on his feet. Whoop. There he goes. Snap to attention, Xigbar, demand another game of checkers. Points for slurring the end of your sentance. I'm gonna get up and go turn on the air conditioner. Gendo takes my seat.
Auron has his arms crossed, and one of those stock deep looks that he must have a billion of grace his dimidiate features. "I'm not playing with you any more. You need to go lie down now." Xigbar gives a him a look, only it's way more humerous than it is... looky. For the following reasons: 1. He has ONE EYE. I can never get over the expressions of luscitionites. 2. He's hopped up. No, seriously. His eyes are dialating. 3. Xigbar in general just makes me want to shout-- for the want of wanting him to shout-- "DUUUUUUDE!"
Auron notes the looks, he adds with one of his own (much more sober and focused at his comrade rather than the peachy fuzz that my wall looks like behind him) "You said you would."
Xigbar replies with something of a wet 'alright alright' (roughly 'gshzaalkry zhghalllryh...' , and I make a mental note to come in with a towel and clean up the slobber. Dude... it's like transparent loogies on my carpet. Gross.
And so we assist the grey-streaked one to bed. It had to be MY bed, but I think I'm all right with that. I check the gauze covering his substantial head-wound, and things seem to be going well down there: no emphasis required. He's out before we can even get his robes off ([earlier] Gendo: "It's ******** ninety degrees outside and he's wearing what?" the last part on the downbeat and fast 'cuz he just remembered the black-leather-jacket-and-long-pants-and-gloves getup he's donning). So I busy mysefl with shoes. Wow. Shoes.
These guys enver cease to amaze me. Xigbar's feet smell better then MINE do. Not that that's saying much or anything, but I obviously didn't lean in and take a big whiff or nothin' (obviosuly), and I didn't smell anything. Mine have... green haze. And they're black "for christ' sake!"
I conteplate the eye patch and the hair bandy. I'm not really worried about it, I just need an excuse to look at someone's face in the moonlight... even if they don't exist (no pun intended), 'cuz it's all poeticy-like and stuff. 'Cept it's only two til seven and there's a street light out the window besides.
Yeah I got nothin'.
Auron's checking up on me periodicaly, before attempting for the eighty-billionth time to get all comfy on my nasty fouton-couch of death and smooshed fingers. If the legendary guard can't figure it out... I wonder if the damned thing wa sever actually meant to be a fouton in the first place. Hn.
Gendo's not browsing MySpace or Matchmaker or Newgrounds or anything like that, just so you're aware. It's not aware-of-anything week right now (Tuesday Observanc Week maybe perhaps?). He's on some rather compicated-looking college site w/a white background and a tiny, tiny black Times New Roman font. Just like a generic steromemation-type should be doing. And the damned fast typing. I need a pocky-stick.
I've noted Auron's cat-like attentativeness to me pulling seemingly random things out of nowhere (desk drawers). Chocolate Wal-Mart confection should do me for tonight. So I offer him a stick. He takes it with all the caution and solemnity of recieving a small, holy device that will raise his attack another three or so, only with out the amaze and awe bits. Curses. Gendo sees us, and I of course off him one, but you could guess the outcome. Blah. Work thy imagination betches.
To this day I still never open my pocky 'right'. There's a little checkered line in the box-board prompting you where to open it so's you get a cool little shape that the pocky can slide in and out of and stick up and I guess you just ditch the wrapper if you want to. But I always, not neccessarily in my haste or excitement in any way, just sort of rip off the little flaps on top and spear open the bag. Forget scissors. That's what the hell serrated edges are FOR man!!
Sorry. soemtimes I have a bit of a dirty mouth just coming off of SmackJeeves. that wa slike, two hours ago, but it don't matter much.
Time to recycle the old yogurt container, put the spoon in the damned dishwasher, and do something productive. Like shower. Which, if you're a s stinky as I tend to get sometimes, can be a VERY productive move. I bid the boys a farewell. Auron's so cute w/his little Americanized chocolate bisquit stick poking out of his mouth. Did I mention his robe? It's a sily white thing with lots of crap that looks like ribbons, but they're not. 'Cuz real men don't wear ribbons. Real men wear cowboy hats.
Got my volunteer form 'turned in' today. We'll se ehow that goes this summer. Hope I'm not too stinky to land the job. Dunno. Tiny library'd probably hire darn near anybody, seein' as how we dun' get paid any.
D'better split afore I start speain' any moah Southe'n than I am be... ciao.
Hexametaphosphate · Fri Apr 27, 2007 @ 01:47am · 1 Comments |
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