Random Rim Jobs

1 something in the AM

I don’t want to go to bed yet cause I’m thinking too much.  Shit, I don’t want Maury to say anything to Henry about me shit that would be embarrassing cause he hates me I think I don’t know I don’t know anything I hate it when I can’t control a situation.  My eye is watering.  I’m being healthy by drinking lots of water cleaning my system out shit I don’t know anything.  My ear ear itches cause one hole or another is healing.  I don’t like this song – it sounds to disco and some guy is professing his love for some chick.  Yeah, right.  Damn.  Why do I always get talkative late at night?  Why does he act like he doesn’t care?  He must care about something, that is something besides his pot.  Fuck I don’t know anything.  Will I ever know?  I fucking hope so.

After June 1, I will be able to call KROQ without a toll charge.  The phone company has enlarged my local calling area from eight to twelve miles.  I’m just so excited.  This station sucks.  They play the same thing over and over.  Boys are dumb.

Fuck, I’m almost out of pot and I still have to get some for my mother with money I spent in Disneyland.  Crap, shit, fuck, damn.  Why is life so rotten?

it’s like 11am

I’m looking at a dead but.  It’s actually kind of pretty.  And I’m sunbathing.  And I’m wondering why boys are so dumb.  Henry’s already called me today.  Why does he have to be so damned unpredictable?  It’s kind of nice but extremely frustrating.  Hell Mr. Ant.  This station is going to be driving me crazy all day.  Then I’ll have to be getting and and down to change the music.  Why do bugs have to be crawling on me?  I’m not a plant.  Henry just doesn’t make sense at all.  Why do I keep trying to figure him out?  I’m a glutton for punishment.  I don’t want to back to get too much sun.  I don’t like this song.  I think one of my neighbors is home and he can see me from one of his kitchen windows so I can’t take my shorts off for a pair of underwear that look like bikini bottoms.

Later

I think my neighbors think I’m a weirdo.  Should I care?  No, I fuckin’ sunbathing.  I want a car.  Is that too much to ask?  Is that so wrong?

6:24 pm

I hope I’m happy.  I’m very burnt.  Maybe now Henry will feel sorry for me.  Ah, I doubt it.  Supposedly, he might come over tonight.  I’m getting my hopes up again.  Why not, I could use some more heartbreak.  Pretty soon, if I keep putting myself through this, I’ll just give up on love and relationships completely.  He’s doing Confirmation with his nephew (who’s the same age that I am) so he’s at church doing whatever it is they do.

I figured it all out – my landlord and Lori Kwok are related.  Well, actually, they can’t be because they’re from two totally different countries, but they do act alike – laughing for no apparent reason, except that they’re uncomfortable and being awkward with their limbs.  Now, of course, I feel like getting stoned but I can’t ’cause ‘ol Mr. Kawamura is on the premises.  I can see it now:  He comes to the door to tell me not to worry about the check and a huge puff of smoke hits him in the face.  He knows it’s not cigarette smoke but can’t quite place what exactly it is.  So he goes upstairs and asks the very noisy neighbors who never sleep if they could help identify the mysterious smoke.  In the mean time, I’m rushing to get rid of any evidence of illegal drug use and light up a clove.  (I have one in the closet for emergencies like these.)  Then they all come downstairs to try to identify the mysterious smoke.

The way Henry looked stumbling out of the bedroom really depressed me.  It just keeps running through my head.  The look on his face, the way he was stumbling.  He looked very … oblivious, he looked kind of scared too.  Maybe he was.  I hope he was scared enough.  He’s probably on a self-destructive trip right now.  I could help him deal with his feelings – why doesn’t he employ my services?

I have to bake – it’s going to be very hot in here.  Ug.

The phone isn’t ringing.

Those guys were asking me an awful lot of questions last night.  I can just see myself following Henry around and pacing.  I’m such a geek.

Now I’m listening to “Love Line” everyone else has lame love problems and I can’t get anything.  The phone isn’t ringing.

I want hairless arms.  This is a very lame call.  How did she get on the air?  The screeners are fuckheads.  They think they have some lesbian love triangle thing going and the Poorman is being a geek about the whole thing.  What a sexist dork.  Shit, I just want to kiss someone.  Is that so wrong?  Is that too much to ask?  I think not.  Will I ever meet anyone else?  How will I ever meet a bunch of girls who like girls.  My hair falls out a lot.  Oh this poor guy has sex only two to three times a day.  Shit, two or three times a year would be great for me.  I’m so depressed.  The phone isn’t ringing.  I just want to die.  I want some sex.  This is depressing.  I don’t know why I get so hooked.  This boy’s driving me batty.

THE PHONE ISN’T RINGING SHIT!

Why do I put myself through this?  Why do I have to think about him so much?  I hate this!  I get so damn frustrated!  Hey, what would happen if I put everything on the line?  I’m just afraid nothing.  But actually I have no idea how he really thinks or how he will really react.

It’s gorgeous outside.  Wonderful weather.  Apartment A has their air conditioner on.  I think I’ll get stoned and go run.  This is one of the best reasons to live in beautiful Southern California.  Why would anyone with naturally curly hair want to live where it is excessively humid?  Their hair would always be frizzy.

This chick’s on drugs.  Well, not any more, but she still isn’t all together.  The screeners are really fucking up tonight.  Now this guy as a “friend named George.”  Who gives a fuck.  What is the point?  Who cares?  Not me.

Listening to this depresses me cause people have two boyfriends or too many lovers.  Shit, I can’t even get one.  This chick is pregnant.  I’ll never have to worry about that.  I just don’t know about sex and drugs.  They make people act weird.  When I thought last night that Henry had done heroin I got knod of protective.  But he wasn’t doing heroin, he was snorting coke.  Maybe it’s some sort of dealing with his feelings.  Fuck, I wish I could help him.  I can see it now – everyone expects Maury to die from doing just a little too much heroin.  Henry acquiesces to Maury’s pleading for someone to “party” with him but Maury, because he’s so fucked up, sets him up with just a little too much and Henry dies.  But Maury’s just fine.  Irony galore.  I think I’ll have to go run off my depression.  I want to talk to [Step-Sister] about butt talk and boys.  She seems so well-adjusted and normal.  It depresses me cause I’m so fucked up.  At least I sure feel like it.  I don’t want to end up like [Sister].  She’s twenty-two not cause it’s May 6 but I don’t even meet any people so I don’t think I’m in danger of getting married.  She didn’t get married until she was twenty, I have two more years.  I better get a car now that my dumb mother has gotten my hopes up.  My eyes are always watering and I wish I knew why.  Fuck, I need my jacket back.  Maybe I’ll have to call Henry before he goes to work in the morning even though I know he hates me.

Why are guys do dumb?  Then again, girls are dumb too, just in a different way.  Why do my eyes have to water so much?  They have no reason.

Cinqo De Mayo, 7:51 pm

The breeze dances over my skin.  The cat ate the tuna.  I just got a

later

I think my lungs are deteriorating.  Henry hasn’t called me – he hates me.  I’ve made a fool of myself.  The night is warm – the kind you

T.V. is depressing.  Jeffrey turned off the light switch last night when he left so now my clock is off and flashing.

He hasn’t called and I don’t expect him to.  Everything’s over before it started.  Shit.  He doesn’t care about anything.  The inside of my arm aches.  I want to yell at him.  I want to go for a walk at night with him and stop somewhere and then kiss him and then … shit, here I go again.

I got Shilo some rawhide bones.  They’re very tiny and cute like she is.

Shit.  Last weekend he was on me like flies on flypaper.  this week I have the plague.  What the fuck?  Did he get some in that period of time or just lose interest for no reason?  Did he have to “act cool” around this friends or does he actually hate me?  Is life totally stupid and unfair or what?

I think I did get some color today.  And I’m going to lay out again tomorrow.  With my noisy neighbors, I’ll be up at seven to assure me plenty of sunlight hours.  I guess I’ll get up and fall back asleep outside.

Why are boys so stupid?  Why ask why?  Try But Dry.  I just want a chance to talk to him once before he actually stops speaking to me.  I want my tape back and he’ll be sure to get his.  I need my jacket – shit, it has my paycheck in it.  Damn, maybe I’ll have to call him.  All boys are simpletons.  Why does this crap have to happen to me?  What have I done?  Was I a bad child?

I believe that I am getting a cold.  I hope that I already have it and this is the worse it’ll get.

Ya know, I keep expecting the phone to ring.  Why don’t I just give up?

Why can I so clearly see us together?  And [Step-Sister] said I didn’t have an imagination.  Ha.  It runs wild with the best of them.  It barks with the big dogs.  Henry Henry Henry Henry Henry Henry Henry Henry why how what for Henry call me talk to me tell me something for once have you ever really told me anything do I really know anything about you not minor “personal” stuff but feelings Henry reactions thoughts are all guys like this it’s been a while since I’ve had to deal with one they’re such a pain.  Jeff’s a masochist, what about me.

I would like to sleep outside but I haven’t a sleeping bag and I’m sure my neighbors would look at me kind of funny.

Why didn’t Henry defend my honor?  He could have at least said, “Hey, dude, shut up man.”  It would’ve been easy and would have said something to me about his manliness (is that the right word?)

Maybe I should make some bread ’cause the phone sure as fuck isn’t ri(ya, so I just checked to make sure the ringer was on)nging.

At least Jeff had the good fortune of getting the minutes right on the clock.  I think he left around four in the morning.  My god.  Should I was or Epilady?  Deanna has and Epilady that I’m sure she would let me use.

7:47 pm

Why can’t I have a car?  Or at least someone who’s willing to chauffeur me around?  What’s wrong?  My mother isn’t even home to yell at about it.  Perhaps if I go over to Laura’s, she’ll want to drive me to Henry’s after she hears about the boys who were there.  I haven’t told her about those.  I can convince her that it would be in her best interest to somehow get me over there.  But then I’ll miss Henry’s call.  But if I get to his house then It won’t matter if I missed a little call.  I could get Jeff to take me.  Yep, he was so bored he would go with me.  Hmm.  That would be sneaky.  That would be smart.  Good idea.  What’s his damn number?  Anderson in the phone book couldn’t be as common as Valenzuela.  Could it?

It’s sexy because it’s wrong.  She’s hot.  She’s thin.  She’s wearing a collar.  Her shirt is a belt.  A belt with skulls and crossbones on it.  She’s got leather wrist restraints on.  She’s holding guns.  Guns.

So.  Fucking.  Hot.

I swear.  True story.

I was asked on Formspring if I would ever bukkake.  I suppose.  It seems like it’d be a lot of work to try to get things coordinated, but sure, I’d have a few guys come on my face, or wherever.  I like come on me.  It’s fun to turn my face up and shut my eyes and wait patiently for it to hit my face.  It’s fun that every load feels unique.

Yeah, I’d bukkake.

I swear.  True story.

I was just thnking about what I was doing a year ago. Sinéad O’Connor made me do it “Where did I go wrong?” I was going through some serious shit with mysef and my parents and especially Erica. I don’t want to remember how much it hurt. I don’t want ot ever be in a situation where I let myself get out of control. It’s my life and I decide what goes on in it. Thank God time fades memories so that the only thing left is actual evens and a faint glimmer of what it was actually like.

Now I’m doing everything for myself.  I feel much better thought I’m sort of at a standstill it seems.  Of course I’m on the verge of another all-consuming relationship.  But he’s the type who wouldn’t ask, expect or even want ALL of me.  I think he’ll do me good.  My jealous streak will be to no avail.  He is is own person and wouldn’t succumb, or rather give himself up, to me.  He won’t want to spend every waking moment with me and because from the beginning that will be establisehd, he won’t get tired of me and I won’t think later on that he cares for me any less because he “needs his space.”  The space will always be there for him, and me, so I can continue with myself without relinquishing the control on myself and my life.

Wonder if he’d be very affectionate.  I’ll just have to tell him, or show him, that that is a must.

I want to see his writing for some reason.  And his baby pictures.  And to have sex with him on the floor of the practice room with loud punk-type music playing.  Wonder if he has any idea at all how much I think about him.  Maybe if I think about him this much, he thinks about me at least half, ok, a quarter of the time.  That would be nice.  He has a very nice profile – cute little nose and an adorable pouty lip. I want to kiss his lips very badly.

Didn’t really get into a deep sleep but I was having dreams.

One – I still lived at the house in Alhambra but not with DJ and Gloria. I’m not sure who it was. Anyway, at about 1:30am I got a knock at my door and some chick was telling me that I had to do my part around the house because Mother’s Day was coming up and she didn’t want to be embarrassed.  So I said yeah, yeah and blew her off.  I had thought she was going to yell at me about my pot smoking ’cause I did it so everyone could see and didn’t really care.  Then I went to the refrigerator because I hadn’t been home in a while and wanted to make sure everything was still good.  In chalk there were instructions for everyone’s chores but somehow I never saw them except smeared.  In the refrigerator were several packages of hot dogs – all partially eaten – one with a note from DJ on it, a gallon milk carton with what I now suppose to be iced tea – it was clear brown in color.  I can’t remember anything else that was in there nor the exact sequence of events.  Erica called but I couldn’t talk to her very well because I was so stoned (2nd dream I’ve had in which I can’t do something simple because of pot – maybe I’m afraid of something.) and we talked about her girlfriends and how she can get someone to clean for her if she needed it (pertaining to me having to clean my house) ’cause she has so many adoring fans.  Then we got off the phone – oh but I remember while we were talking, I was in the living room and I turned on the tv and it was something like 3:24am – because of one of those fans.  Then I came out of my room and there were a bunch of really scuzzy, dirty, old men on the couch all watching television.  I was in something skimpy like a bikini or something and was talking to them like they were my buddies, though I did stay up in the dining room.  Then some guys closer to my age came over and were playing music for the old men who were tripping out on it.  The guys reminded me of the little guys I used to hang around with at Oak Ridge.

Two – my mother, Laura, and myself in a little car (though not my mom’s vehicle but she was driving) driving to a mall.  She said something about not having a lover so snidely I replied with, “What, are you born-again or something?”  Apparently she had been.  but then we were arguing about whether God was a man or a woman.  she kept saying that it was definitely a woman.  She, etc.  We got to this underground parking garage and had to find a way to get up to the mall.  There was an elevator but it looked shabby so I talked them into taking the stairs.  I was worried about going on the elevator ’cause I don’t like the damn things – they make me nervous.  So as we were walking, Laura met up with some chick and they started fooling around – Laura on her back and the one on top on her knees doing I’m-no-sure-what to her – while moving.  It ends up that the one on top is Merilu Henner (don’t ask me why) and she’s got her ass up in the air with her knees so far apart that I can clearly see her (how can I put this delicately?  I can’t – ) asshole.  I was like a target for me to zero in on.  I was totally hairless (maybe I’ve seen too many Penthouse issues) and brown – darker towards the center.  I was there very quickly licking with an incredible amount of saliva.  Then they stopped and I went for her (this is what works here) cunt.  Only thing was, I started to feel it – and not in the dream either.

I could feel it for real.  I wiggled my finger – or at least I think I did – and I felt more  So I proceeded to take my panties off one leg and masturbate.  I expected myself to be a lot wetter than I was – I thought the dream was going to whip me into an orgiastic frenzy – but I proceeded anyway.

I feel sorry for Laura.  Orgasms are nice to have and seem to complete the act.  Of course I wonder what will happen if Henry doesn’t give me orgasms.  (Yep, I’m confident we will have sex ‘cuase unless some other chick butts her way in, we will be together.)  Will I have to masturbate anyway?  Will I show him what he can do?  Why am I assuming that he won’t be able to?  I’ve assumed quite a few other incorrect things about him already.  That’s good, I like surprises.  He has had 9 IX nine years of experience.

I just want to break through and really get to know him.  I want him to tell me that I’m different and that he’s never felt this way about any other girl.  I don’t know if I can be patient much longer either.

My ear hurts a lot.  Why do I put myself through the torture [of piercing my ears with my own ear-piercing gun]?  I can’t sleep on my left side at all unless I prop pillows up just so.  And I know that after it heals, I’ll do another one and there’s no place to go but up.  The only problem with doing it myself is that they’re not very even.  Like the one I did before this one is up a wee-bit too high.  And the one I did before that one is too close to the one above it.  There was one I did so close I couldn’t get the back of the stud on so I had to take it out.  Wasted energy.  But the more I do it, the more nerve I’ll have and the better I’ll get, I hope.

so it looked like (forgive me please) he was fucking that guitar like there was no tomorrow. I was very turned on and not because I was stoned ’cause I wasn’t.

I have cookies in the oven – they’re for Laura so she’ll bring me toilet paper.

After they played, Beth went right up to Maury to hug him so I went right to Henry – but I didn’t hug him. I asked if he wanted his jacket back but he didn’t. I asked if he had fun and he said he was kind of bored and did he look it. I told him I liked the way he looked. I figure I’ll tell him how sexy he is later in our relationship. I don’t want to totally freak him out. Or maybe I should be direct – he did say he liked that. Well, we’ll see what happens. While the next band was playing we all had to wait around cause they were using our guys’ equipment (not their personal equipment though). We sat around the tail of Henry’s truck and got stoned and talked. Bill was still hyped after singing so he was loud and funny and of course I laughed loud and gross. I don’t like it when I’m loud, that’s why I cover my mouth and try to stifle my laugh. I also don’t look too hot when I laugh cause I smile too big or my mouth opens. Henry was saying how cold he was but he still didn’t want his jacket back. So finally he asked if I wanted to “sit in the truck and listen to music.” Hell yes. We were in there talking and stuff. People kept coming up to the window to talk to him so we didn’t really get to the point where I scooted a little bit closer and kissed him. But oh well. Then, when everyone was ready to go, Beth tried to say she couldn’t give me a ride home so Henry would’ve had to. But I didn’t want to impose and he didn’t offer and he was burned out. So we went home. Not even a good bye kiss or anything. Oh well, next time for sure. And I believe he was thinking about kissing me ’cause he asked me if my mouth “tasted like shit” (from the pot) and in the truck he kept saying how dry his mouth was. We each had a Lifesaver which did help the ol’ cottonmouth problem but that’s when he started having everyone ask him lame questions. Then when he finally had to go help load the stuff back into his truck he kept looking at me as he was getting out and with a cute look on his face. Oh and he kept bending over – first time in his back room right in the front of me – to expose his cute little butt. He had on faded jeans with holes in them (not, as I had at first suspected, strategically placed by him) with black spandex tight-type things underneath and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. And the only reason he had his shirt unbuttoned enough for me to see his chest was ’cause he was hot from the coke. Or did I already put that? I wish my memory wasn’t so bad. Too much pot’ll do it to ya. This all started when I said he bent over – he had a cute LITTLE butt and nice skinny legs. But not skinny bad ’cause they are very cute in shorts, skinny good – they look good n pants and all the time.  While he was playing I started thinking about running my hands up and down his legs and sliping my hand into one of the holes that was on the back of his upper-right thigh.

I like the smell of wet cement.  Then we were driving home, I was really stoned and I was thinking about being in Henry’s truck with him and giving him head while he’s driving.  Only thing is, I was thinking about it in extreme detail.  Wow, I’m amazed even at myself.

For a while I didn’t like, or didn’t think I liked guys but I like Henry and he’s a guy so I must like guys.  The thought of him driving that big truck and being all powerful really turns me on.  I like masculinity.  But I still like girls cause I look and want to touch them.  Maybe it’s just the person I like male or female.

I think I’m gonna steal a big flood light from work to put in my brown lamp on the floor so it will be realy bright in here.

I mean whomever I happen to like, be it male or female, I find things attractive, sexy and appealing about them.  I was saying this to Laura and she said, “Suzanne, you’re bisexual.”  Just like that, matter-of-factly, and everything.  Why can’t I just be normal though?  Oh well, it’ll never happen.  D.J. told me when I was 14, I think, that I would always live an alternate lifestyle, be it with a male or female or by myself.

My hair falls out a lot – there’s hair all over my damn house – room.

Now that I have the time and energy (sort of) to make stuffed shells, I should.  But I don’t feel like it.

Wonder who’s gonna get impatient first?  He wanted to kiss me last night but didn’t.  I want him to kiss me.  I don’t want to make the first moves.  For some reason, with boys, I always have to be the first.  Does something about me scare on intimidate them?  So I act nervous, that’s normal, isn’t it?  One time when I was sitting on the hood of Beth’s car and he was leaning up against the side right next to me, he turned his head and I noticed out of the corner of my eye so I turned and asked, “What?!” like I always do.  He was all, “I didn’t say anything.”  Maybe he was going to kiss me – maybe not.  Who knows but he and he’ll never tell.

I’m sunbathing – hanging my legs out the front door. I don’t think there is a time when my neighbors aren’t noisy. Oh well. They got up early (I do mean early – before 10am) today and made lots of noise. It feels very nice to sit in the sun thought I should have sunscreen on my face.

Last night – the “Band” played at a party out in the middle of nowhere – it looked like a cross between Yosemite and Palo Cedro. The band before them played a long time so for a while we were all just standing around. Getting stoned whatever. But Henry would always stand by me – quite close I might add. We had to stand around a lot. We were “backstage” (behind a couple of tarps strung up)

I think I have skin cancer on my leg and I just found another spot not as big on my hip.

and Henry was standing close to me. He had told me earlier in the evening that he was tired cause he smoked too much pot and also did some coke. He showed me he was shaking and had me FEEL HIS HEART. At first I put my hand tentatively then he held it closer and tighter with his hand. Lordy. He has pecks and everything. And he has hair on his chest. But it’s not gross, it looks kind of nice – ok. He has a cute little cleft-type thing in his lower lip.

I have to go to the bathroom but I’m out of toilet paper. Maybe I should go buy some.

Anyway. When they went on, Beth, Carla, and myself sat in what would’ve been the wings. And right before he had to play, Henry asked me if I wanted to hold his jacket. How chivilrous (shit, I can’t spell). He looks so sexy when he plays. His face gets this look like he really doesn’t care but his hands are touching that instrument like it’s a woman. (Or at least how I’d hope he’d touch a woman.) He leans forward at the hips and the strobe light was on so he looked like he was moving a lot ore than he actually was