Monday, October 23, 2006

kc jonzin'...

See the problem with young girls is...

that they are too young to know any better and well...
I'm just to fuckin' old to care at this point in my life.

Last night, I went to the Halloween party of a co-worker and I was not expecting to have a good time.
However, the fact people went to the limit with their costumes, helped to lift my mood and help keep
the party from being a fucking dud.

Dressed as a lumberjack, my intentions were anything but jacking my lumber at the end of the night.

Cause, the only blonde I can deal with was there, roommate to the co-worker.
The target of my erection, er...uh, I mean the object of my affection.
and as usual there was conversation and chatter, me wishing to be the only batter (in her box)
and though we get along like peas and carrots, her roomies think I'm better suited with girls in hairnets
even after explaining at length that blondie can't shatter this heart of glass cause it comes is.

I asked if her man was riding the rails, or cleanin' the tracks or whatever the fuck he does for choo-choo charley
she looked sad let me know that Thundar the barbarian was in....... Connecticutt
if you know anything about
me or RI
you know
I can stand on my front stairs....
and piss into CT

She stares into my eyes and I try not to notice her noticing me notice
she is bothered by boy-friend abscence
but like the French I crumbled like a house of cards in a windstorm
whipped like a trick by the migh-t German...jaegermeister
with whom I'm no longer friends
no amount of
miller light
glasses of water
games of beer pong
or handfuls of candy corn
can stop my verbal diahrrea

talking all sorts of candy coated nastiness
promises not threats
to be the guy in presence
as well as in name
rather than putting the trash on the rails before his
cause what the fuck is that about
I know we all do what we gotta do
but come now junior
make the paper
without leaving baby in the corner

and despite what roomies say
shes a good person
staying true to her man
leaves her alone
like the fat kid at the dance
like single, single moms
like Jesus done by judas

and no amount of txt messages
back rubs
or stolen kisses while
leaving the house
or wondering why she loves the Hee-Haw
can make it better
so the bandaids have to cover the holes
of emotional hand grenades
I don't have the strength to dive on