Random Rim Jobs

And the winner is: @boxspring.  He got a prize that I hope he enjoys.  Several other people guessed correctly as well, but he was first.  I withheld the correct answers and posted daily clues because I was having fun with y’all’s guesses.  I’m most confused by the guess that the substance in the bowl was a condom; I’ll have Shaye explain it to me in person.

I swear.  True story.

It’s a contest to identify the pictured substance.  Winner gets a special photo.

Rules:

1. First one to get the complete correct answer wins.
2. Contestants enter by making their guesses via commenting to this post.
3. I will post as a comment one clue per day for each day there is not a winner.
4. Contestants are encouraged to enter as many guesses as they’d like, with only one guess per comment.  Only the first guess in each comment will be considered.
5. Winner will be announced on Saturday, March 13, 2010.

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.

[Continued from "Prague, Israel (Part 2)."]

Israel and I both worked and lived together.  Israel and I both worked days, and I also had some shifts at night.  I was a shitty waitress and I knew it.  I didn’t like having to be really nice in hopes of a tip with only minimum wage guaranteed when I made more than minimum wage when I worked at night as a hostess.  The good waiting shifts were taken by people who were actually good at waiting on people.

Around the same time I began going to school in earnest.  Junior college.  Pasadena City College.  I had graduated from high school a year early, but then had taken a bit of time to realize that I did want to go to college.  That I mostly worked nights was convenient not only because I made more money at night, but also because I could attend classes during the days.

School during the day and working both days and nights meant I did a lot of coming and going from my apartment, sometimes at “odd” hours.  For the most part this didn’t bother or have any effect at all on my neighbors.  One neighbor, however, noticed.  We’d often run into each other in the lobby of the building, or in the back yard where he smoked and I took my puppy, or in the front yard.  When he saw me in the front yard it was usually because I was on my way to my car to go to school.

Because I was on my way to school I was usually in a hurry.  The neighbor was not in a hurry at all; he didn’t seem to do much more than hang out in or near our apartment building.  So he walked me to my car on a number of occasions, and attempted to engage me in conversation.  I had been working at a bar for a while and had begun to see the lame signs that I guy was “interested” in me.  Lame because the guys would pretend to care about what I did with my time when they really wanted to know, “You wanna fuck me?”

My neighbor was interested in me for sure, and pretended to care about my comings and goings.  He asked me where I was going in my car.  “To school.”  He asked me where I go at night.  “To work.”  He asked me where I worked.  I did not want him to come to the bar where I worked to talk to me.  There, I had to be nice to the customers and I was trapped at my hostessing station.  So, I told him I worked down the street.  It wasn’t a lie, and he had seen me come and go to work by foot, so I figured that would be enough for him.

And it was, sort of.  The neighbor continued to be overly solicitous whenever he saw me.  One day he knocked on my apartment door and held out, like a proud child, a rather scraggly looking potted plant.  I thanked him, but I really don’t think I was particularly encouraging.  I still have the plant.

I tried my best to keep our interactions short but sometimes when I was out with my puppy I had to talk to him until she was done doing her thing.  It was dark one evening when he found me in the building’s front yard with my puppy.  It must have been a rare night that I had off from work, and I was not in the mood to deal with him, but my puppy was taking her time.  I wanted to go.

Finally, I began walking up the building’s stairs to my apartment when the neighbor yelled after me, “I wanna get with you.”  I certainly would find that refreshing now, but 19-year-old me was freaked the fuck out.  It didn’t help that I found the man repulsive.  Then, as I was retreating further up the stairs, he held up his wallet and said, “I’ll pay!”

I picked up the puppy and ran to my apartment, where Israel was home.  He could see that I was upset when I told him what had just happened to me.  He thought it was funny.  I did not.

I swear.  True story

[To be continued ….]

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?

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.