« the inca trail | Main | dental tools and cheap vodka »
November 24, 2005
how to score with a broken glass of varnish
a pair of dogs fucking under the wicker mesh
the hombre slips underneath the bitch like someone shoved a chair beneath him, instead of out from under him...but his tallywacker doesnt become disengaged and now they are facing opposite directions somehow, twitching like crackheads and as confused as siamese twins.
the wife takes her washed up unemployment credit card to the ATM for a laugh and really begins laughing when its spits out seven hundred dollars for no apparent reason...we bought a liter of cuban rum and a couple captive necklaces we had our eyes on...also, the rasta that sold Nicole her necklace part times as a newspaper delivery boy, the issue we purchased had a very nice fold out on page six which contained a banana sized chunk of weed. This newspaper cost $9, about the same as a french copy of Vogue at an airport news stand.....
I sat down at a table and ordered something for dinner, what i got was a mashed potato slab sculped to look like a lobster and filled with chunks of shrimp...where am I?.....
In the mornings I go down to the beach to watch the surfers nearly amputate one another..however the girls seem more interested in the rip curls than curling irons...my hat is off to them....
I go to the market and buy green peppers, red peppers, orange chiles and red chiles and them some onions and garlic.. then I throw it all to Nicole , who I lock in the kitchen with a box of linguine..."As soon as you make it right you can see the sun"
Diazapam costs ten cents for ten miligrams and I eat them like handfuls of Reeces Peices...then I trace the formats of mahogany skinned girls whose bathing suits seem rude and perhaps even vulgar; standing in the way of the eyes of invention...it would all make some fine chop over a night near the campfire with a bottle of wine and fallatio....
I have no idea why the vultures are waiting so long for things to fail, by the looks of things they will be eating each others bones in the end....
We rolls joints with licorice papers and stroll darkened promenades by the shore looking for a cove to smoke them, near dimly lit tents and restless dogs....we go to the milk bar and order drafts and a table of backgammon to keep the wandering eyes in my pants as a blonde nymph writhes on the couch in her jean skirt and exposes her innocent panties to the civilized world whose wires are sparking and short circuiting over the injustice of the moment, no fingers or tumblers dare be nimble enough to reply...
D.
Posted by Drexler at November 24, 2005 09:01 AM