Dr. McBudstoke
Ex-Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 5, 2004
- Messages
- 2,851
I do a small line of okay coke out of the small of her back, and lick off the remainder of the white sandy particles. I do this to mask my contempt for her; her daddy owns the world.
We jaunted up to the north side of town earlier today, drinking champagne from the bottle on the way, and used the money her daddy gave her for a new Louis Vuitton pochette to buy a few grams of coke that's decent at best that's cut with too much novacaine.
I roll over on my back and she nestles up on my chest, I stroke her hair. Her four hundred dollar dye-job that can only be explained as too natural, her hair too conditioned; no split-ends. I run my fingers across her face, her lips, down her neck. Her skin is too soft, her features are too classic and perfect. She's too blonde, her figure is too nice. Her teeth are too white.
After we bought the coke, we jaunted back over to the east side of town and sat in the park, finishing up the champagne that we'd stolen from her daddy. We layed down on the grass, I was on my back, she was nestled up against my chest, I felt like stroking her hair but didn't. "Let's do some coke" I said, bored with her. "Or better yet, let's go to lunch at Mercury. My daddy knows the owner so we can easily get a table." she replied.
I lay in the bed, she's nestled up against my chest. She strokes my face, and touches my lips. I wonder what she's thinking, probably that I need some new highlights, or I need to exfoliate, or I need to bleech my teeth, or I need to wipe the ring of white powder from around my nostrils. The most stunning sense of hilarity fills me from within at the thought of this, and I laugh. "What's so funny?" she asks, almost accusingly. I tell her it's the coke, and we're quiet again. Quiet and certainly nonchalant.
At mercury we ordered lunch, but decided to send it back and just have drinks. We could buy alcohol because, apparently, we were both oklahoma residents over the age of twenty-one despite our texas plates, and the fact that anyone as beautiful as us had to be a dallasite.
She's asleep now, nestled against my chest, her breath gently fluttering through her perfectly shaped nose. I can't help but hate her, because anything that beautiful is impossible to love. Twenty years from now, she'll wonder why she's alone, and Susie Q. from homeroom with the braces and the acne is happily married with children.
After we finished our drinks at Mercury, we went to a lame party at some north dallas kid's house. We sat by the pool and sipped cheap bourbon and cokes, because the party was boring and stupid. We did a few lines of the okay coke, the decent stuff, off of the table by the pool. We flirted for the first time in a long time, because the coke made us talkative and nervous, a little bit anxious. It made us feel like we weren't bored of each other anymore, it made us feel like we'd just met.
Trying not to wake her up, I gently roll her so that I can free my arm from under her. I reach over the bedside table and grab a blister-pack of generic mexican diazepam and take a good forty milligrams; I need to get some sleep. Because tommorow will be another eventful day with the beautiful girl whose daddy owns the world.
We jaunted up to the north side of town earlier today, drinking champagne from the bottle on the way, and used the money her daddy gave her for a new Louis Vuitton pochette to buy a few grams of coke that's decent at best that's cut with too much novacaine.
I roll over on my back and she nestles up on my chest, I stroke her hair. Her four hundred dollar dye-job that can only be explained as too natural, her hair too conditioned; no split-ends. I run my fingers across her face, her lips, down her neck. Her skin is too soft, her features are too classic and perfect. She's too blonde, her figure is too nice. Her teeth are too white.
After we bought the coke, we jaunted back over to the east side of town and sat in the park, finishing up the champagne that we'd stolen from her daddy. We layed down on the grass, I was on my back, she was nestled up against my chest, I felt like stroking her hair but didn't. "Let's do some coke" I said, bored with her. "Or better yet, let's go to lunch at Mercury. My daddy knows the owner so we can easily get a table." she replied.
I lay in the bed, she's nestled up against my chest. She strokes my face, and touches my lips. I wonder what she's thinking, probably that I need some new highlights, or I need to exfoliate, or I need to bleech my teeth, or I need to wipe the ring of white powder from around my nostrils. The most stunning sense of hilarity fills me from within at the thought of this, and I laugh. "What's so funny?" she asks, almost accusingly. I tell her it's the coke, and we're quiet again. Quiet and certainly nonchalant.
At mercury we ordered lunch, but decided to send it back and just have drinks. We could buy alcohol because, apparently, we were both oklahoma residents over the age of twenty-one despite our texas plates, and the fact that anyone as beautiful as us had to be a dallasite.
She's asleep now, nestled against my chest, her breath gently fluttering through her perfectly shaped nose. I can't help but hate her, because anything that beautiful is impossible to love. Twenty years from now, she'll wonder why she's alone, and Susie Q. from homeroom with the braces and the acne is happily married with children.
After we finished our drinks at Mercury, we went to a lame party at some north dallas kid's house. We sat by the pool and sipped cheap bourbon and cokes, because the party was boring and stupid. We did a few lines of the okay coke, the decent stuff, off of the table by the pool. We flirted for the first time in a long time, because the coke made us talkative and nervous, a little bit anxious. It made us feel like we weren't bored of each other anymore, it made us feel like we'd just met.
Trying not to wake her up, I gently roll her so that I can free my arm from under her. I reach over the bedside table and grab a blister-pack of generic mexican diazepam and take a good forty milligrams; I need to get some sleep. Because tommorow will be another eventful day with the beautiful girl whose daddy owns the world.
