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So, In A Nutshell, I'm Fucked
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Welcome to GoLive CyberStudio 3

Quick mish mash of recent events.

The Sunday before last, I got into the Art Museum for free. I walked in a half and hour before close to see the travelling European Master's exhibit, right behind another guy, as the storms began to churn.

He was a member, and for some reason, they thought I was with him.

casheir:"Two tickets?"

guy:"Why?"

casheir:"Is he with you?"

guy:"No, I think he's on his own."

Me:"Well, I'm definitely not with you."

And then the casheir gave him two tickets anyway. So he turns and gives me the extra one, random act of kindness type of thing, even though I was being sort-of a cock.

Then on my birthday, I became a citizen of CO. Took all fucking day, and I ran around like mad. Showed up at the driver's license place, took a number, went and ate for two hours, came back and they still weren't on my number. Waited a bit, and got my number called, to the unruly dissent of the crowd in the lobby. Feeling smug and ahead of the curve, I non-chalantly walked up and stated my needs.

cashier:"Oh, I'm sorry sir. You waited in the wrong line."

fuck.

Smoked a lot of grass after it was all done. Felt bad about not going to the bar, or loudly whooping it up, but it was a Monday, and I had been partying since tuesday, so it was the right decision.

Came to work tuesday, to get those creepy calls from the HR people. Fuck them.

Thursday i went to an art expo of a friend of Roomies at Citrus. Lots of hotties. Flirted like mad. Two girls, friends of John's passed me a bullet filled with Juan Valdez's fine columbian crystals. This made me flirt with any girl that came near me. I was cute and unassuming. Affable, vs. overbearingly aggressive, so it came off well.

That, and I had just worked out, and was wearing my male slut tight purple t-shirt with tan cords, grey trouser socks, and black soft leather shoes. I think that helped.

Those two girls called a friend down, and she was cute. Lithe, supple, blond hair with dyed streaks. Big platform red glittery shoes I dubbed her "ruby red slippers." She called them her "slut shoes".

We had good conversation, and she groped me repeatedly. But then, I got groped a bit that night. Mostly subtly so. Like they targeted a specific muscle they like, and went at it with a plan, rather than just random pawing.

Megan, of the Ruby Red Slippers, actually grossed me out. We were talking about South America, as she wanted to visit. I spoke of friends who had been mugged, and victims of attempted kidnapping. she said it was the bugs, as she had a friend who went down south, and woke up one night with what felt like a worm in her throat wiggling. She knew it was a ring worm, so she didn't pull it out, as this would make it break in half, and go back into the digestive system and cause furthur complications. Instead, she waited, and let it crawl out of her mouth. This took four hours, and she vomited repeatedly. Megan's story of her friend so gorssed me out, that I excused myself, ran into John, and ended up partaking of more of Juan Valdez's back forty stash.

I ditched out after we all left. They were talking about going to another club, and my club quota was filled for the week/month. Megan, of the Ruby Red slippers was disappointed and surprised I didn't pursue. So was I. I am a failure of the stereo-type. But really I don't have the cash for a girlfriend, or much of anything right now.

Not that I believe you need to flash cash to get a girl. But pimping girls for dinner checks and gifts doesn't sit well with me anymore. I went through a phase once...well, nevermind.

Went to the Rhino room, where there were not very many girls, and ended up playing pool with a couple of people. Went home feeling vaguely disappointed. Megan and I clicked, but the timing was not right.

Timing is key.

Friday. Day off of work. Fucked around, wrote a song, chilled. Went to the gym. Came out, and my car will not start. The starter will not even engage. I now look at this as an extension of my previous bad luck on Monday.

Roomie picks me up, and I fret about leaving my car in the parking lot. Can't get it towed becasue there was a lot of accidents due to a thunderstorm, and the price is prohibitive. Get home, throw some steak on the grill, and the grill dies.

Don dragged me to the bar later on to "get my mind off of things".

It worked. I flirted a bunch. Still unassuming, affable. Got groped a few times and then I turned the tables.

This little girl with brown hair, a bit older than me but still cute bummed a ciggarrette from me.

As I reached up to the table to grab the pack and lighter for her, my hand accidentally brushed he inner thigh, very close to her pussy. Like maybe two inches away if that.

I started to apologize, when i looked into her eyes. Her whole face had brightened up.

Well, why not?

So I pulled her close to me, and somehow, my hand ended up blatantly on her ass. We chatted a bit while i groped her behind blatantly. I think a lot of people watched. Odd, the moments people chose to watch me.

It started to get a little hot as the conversation drifted to what to do after the bar closed.

Just as I subtly proposition her, one of those fucking sketches that also haunt and work at the bar jumped in and cock-blocked me.

Fucker. Queered the whole deal.

Admittedly, I was not at my most suave, or attractive. But having him jump in and put his arms around the both of us with a rowdy, "Heyyyy, How's it going?" Didn't help.

She was surprised, and seemed to know him. "You know him?" she said to the sketch. "Yeah, he's good people." The sketch said, and tried to work some sort of flirtatious eye-contact mac with her.

And it was over. I think now it was not so much as him, what I said, or what he said, in as much as she simply had a low opinion of this sketch, and I was guilty by association.

Whatever. It would have been tawdry, and definitely a one night stand, the thought of which doesn't necessarily thrill me. I still think it would've been great sex, though. Some girls you can't tell. Some are deceiving, and some you just know the chemistry is right.

She made my heart pound. She turned me on like a light switch.

Fuck it. No worries.

Saturday, fucked around all day, working on the car, putting a new starter into it. Couldn't find the auto parts store, as it was set off of the road. So I missed it the first time, and wasted an hour looking for it. Didn't go out Saturday night, even though I felt restless as all hell, and felt a good girl streak coming on, as I felt my overall luck was circumspect.

So I stayed in, started to play guitar. My guitar broke.

Oh well, I guess I could watch a movie.

No can do. My VCR broke.

It was like everything was falling to peices, and I was glad to be home, just so i could have them all in one place.

So I went to bed early, to get a jump on the next day, and finish the starter job.

Saturday, i couldn't get the leads from the battery to the selenoid to fit properly. I went to the auto parts store to get my core charge money for bringing the old part in. Get there with the part in a bag.

casheir:"Oh no, we can't take that without the box."

me:"You're shitting me."

So I drive all the way back for the fucking box, and then all the way back to the store, which is across town, and got my money. I bought a metal file to help finish the starter job.

Went over to Thomas' to borrow his drill, in case I needed it, and we played sony and hacky sacked a little bit.

And we hacked with the hack that I kicked on his roof a few weeks ago. This is the only evidence of Providence in my life in the past two weeks.

I'm thrilled, because it was the hack I used when I hacked with my kids as a Group Leader.

Get home, file open the leads to get them on the pole of the starter, put everything back together, turned the key, and NOTHING HAPPENS.

So in a nutshell, I'm fucked.

 


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