|
13 may 2000
----- Boston.MA.USA 10.52.PM So here we are in Boston. Yes, we -- meaning Chuck, Don and Sarah. I used to keep a journal ('view' which morphed into 'anneal') which I quit late 1999. Anyway, Chuck is here visiting us for the weekend. Chuck invited me to write his entry tonight. I hadn't met Chuck before tonight, talked to him on the phone a few times though. Anyway, let's jump right in to today which for me starts at 4:51pm. Once Chuck arrived here and I stopped circling Terminal B at Logan, we schlepped out to Blue Ribbon. Definitely the best Carolina style barbeque in Boston, if not the whole northeast. We inhaled collard greens, macaroni n' cheese and burnt ends. Ahhh, nothing like adding a little grease to your blood levels. Provided Chuck with the scenic view back to the projects. Yes we do live in the projects, seriously. Then found a bar near where we live that served a decent martini. Shot the shit a little. Nothing like listening to a little California desert flower complain about the cold. And the long walk back to the car. Chuck currently is using his ass to pump up the air mattress. The guy is need of having some female attention as he's wondering out loud how to make the pumping more sexual. "This thing isn't getting any bigger. I'm going to blow it". Doesn't that say it all?! "Give me something to wrap my lips around, I'll get it up". Jeez. With lines like that, it's hard to understand why Chuck is without female companionship. Seriously though, writing this entry is a lot of fun. Makes me remember why I kept a journal, but also why I'm currently not keeping a journal. It's a lot of effort. Hats off to Chuck for keeping it up. Despite his calls for more hits (see the hit-slut entry), you gotta love a guy that is in your living room singing slave songs while pumping an air mattress. "Need a wet-nap?" It's been interesting watching the interaction between friends. Especially those who've been through the past thirteen years. The inner jokes and understandings that no one else knows. Chuck is succumbing to hit-slut fever by checking his hits. Poor boy needs readers -- so go out and pimp him! "Harder Don, harder" Ah yes, another exciting night in Boston comes to a close. Chuck is shaving, Don is dozing on the couch and I'm done with this entry. Night all. 13 may 1999: didn't write : 13 may 1998: so much : We don't just fit together ... I've felt that before. This feeling is closer to melting, and it is kind of liquid, dizzy, flowing like hot wax into one another, and solidifying as one. The kiss seems eternal yet not enough, separate once again, she lies down. All I want to do is love.
[ swim back | email me | swim ahead ] |
