Cam and a bad Joke

i am not fucking going to work tonight.

nope.

i am not going to talk to anyone, because i tried that today, and it wasnt working out too well.

i ran into one of the producers of my movie in the fedex, where i was chipping away at the infernal occupation of preparing for my trip, and it took me like 5 minutes to figure it out and then another 2 to be simpatichnaya. and then i total Cam to go eat a bag of dicks, for no good reason. not for NO reason, but not a really good one. he just suggested going to the beach and then asked if we could 'take [my] ride' and last week after working on his stupid audition scene, he asked me to get him cigarettes, on the way.... i'm like... what the blue moon???

so that was today. ironically. i had more than half a mind to drive to the beach by myself, in my Ride, but to take the Blue Oyster, who's worth about $80 in scrap metal (i just crossed myself. i love the Blue Oyster and am extremely grateful for everything he's done but for the grace of god) when Cam has like, well, I dunno it's really low-to-the-ground and kind of clausterphobic, honestly it gives me the screamin Meemies, but at least, a normal car, is just out of the question, besides which he was asking deliberately to be like I'm not paying for your Shit, cuz I'm a Modern Duder, and you are not even sleeping with me. it's just seven layers of retarded, and i cant.

so,

here's a really bad Armotrash joke for y'all... or rather, a pearl of wisdom, in the standard vaudevillian totally like Capone meets Catskills three-part bait-and-switch construction. as told, with flawless timing, to Y.T. by mobsterpunk Meathead #1:

what's the difference between a russia girl and a french girl?

please, enlighten.

if a guy meets a russian girl on the street, and says to her, to hook up with her, oh, lets go have some drinks blablabla, she says, oh, no, i cant, i have to meet my mother, this, and then eventually she says, ok.

so they go for drinks, blabla, and then he tells her oh, lets for disco. so she says oh, no, i cant, its late, i have in the morning things to do, so he says oh come on so finally she says ok, ok, we go.

so they go to disco, so then he says oh why not you come to sleep at my place, so she says, oh, no, i cant, no, no, but eventually she say ok.

ok?

ok.

so a french girl, a guy meets on the street and wants to hook up to her, and says oh come on we'll get some drinks, so she says, sure why not?

so they go and have some drinks and he says, how about we go have disco and so the french girl says yeah sure ok!

so then after disco he says how now about you come to sleep at my house, and she says yeah, great!

ok?

O-kay.

so then in the morning, when they wake up, the french girl packs up all her things in her bag and says ok now im going, bye!

and the russian girl says in the morning, oh, just wait and i go to my mother house and take my things in my bag and i come right back!

DA-DAM CHING

UM

Today I shifted forward in my seat slightly to sit up a little straighter because I felt I was slouching and you INSTANTLY retreated and moved your entire chair back, and I even INSTANTLIER heaved myself over to the VEEEERY end of the couch away from you and just shook my head and scoffed, midway through my sentence, and i didn't even look up at you as I did it, or after I did it, or move back, I just went right on talking and not looking at you, as we played Chicken, and it was like playing with a sign that said "Don't Play Chicken With Cars. The Cars Will Win." And it was, okay, how far are we gonna take this okay, Dare! Dare! Dare! DARE. DARE.

Didn't address the flirting. Sweatbroken, breathy, and thigh-high leg-crossed LordsNameinVaining, or closer-and-closer-inching coy pressing....

Facebook stalking. Acknowledgment of such. Phone calls. Threat of leaving, unprecedented date-canceling. Hang-up. Apology+apology+apology+plea for original appointment slot back. And denial of said slot. And, not only denial, but "maybe"-response and "I'll confirm by [hour before appointment], probably by e-mail, if not, just assume I can't" carrot-dangling, phone-wait-inducing, INEVITABLY disappointing despite, never ever ever ever having done any of this before. STILL. I'm PUSHING him. And he's PUSHING me. Dare. Dare. Double-dare. DARE.

I tell him, after endlessly making light, showing up in radiant good health, 30" legshown, wise-cracking about meta-craziness and PoMo porno, in spite of my claim to souldestruction, that, I am really really souldestroyed now. No, now, REALLY. No, now, NOW, now I'm really concerned that this is latent schizophrenia, now. Dare. I dare you to risk my health like this.

Dare. Well... if you're really concerned about this, there are medications you could take.

Um... yes, yes, maybe I should.

There are... I could REFER you to people. Would you like me to?

Um... well...

I mean if you REALLY think you're having delusions.

I am!

Okay... Well... Are you having delusions about anything besides me?

Um... Well I wouldn't know would I?

::smirk:: I mean if you are, I haven't heard anything about them.

::stifled smirk:: Really?

Really. But if you're concerned. What are they about exactly, I'm just, not really following?

Well... I mean... Visions and lifeshapes and blue chemicals...

I see. Is that getting worse?

::nod:: Yes.

Okay, well. So... I mean yes there are medications that help with that sort of thing and--

BUT- I mean part of me thinks I'm actually, the way I'm seeing things is becoming more like this because I'm actually becoming more CLEAR. More attuned. Because, because occasionally my perceptions and logics are validated by... For example, W-----------,

Can I see that book by the way?

Here--- ::gives it:: For example, I read this and it was so obvious to me what the shape was about. And everyone was like, Oh that ending was such a copout! And I was just like, no, I mean, that was the entire POINT, and-- that's not the one I wanted to give you-- that's the one I'm talking about now--

I know. ::reading in the middle::

Anyway, in this one I wanted to give you he just clear-as-day talks about planning it and actually talks about SHAPE and he even uses that word and that was PRECISELY the point... So...

::as though not listening. Beat. Gives back book.::

SO, these CRAZY ideas of mine are occasionally VALIDATED by people who are considered BRILLIANT.

::nodding:: So...?

So you know. I don't think it's necessarily...

Oh, well, in that case... :::brief eye contact, probably third time in the hour::: It's just, well, it just sounds a little different now, to me, I mean before it sounded like you were saying something else, about being concerned, which was the first I'd heard anything about it, but now I guess I just completely misheard you? Because now it sounds different. Again.

Ah- right... Yeah.

But I mean I could still refer you to someone? Might as well? I know a few psychiatrists here and they all-- well they all need WORK, frankly--

Ha!

Yeah, yeah, they all need WORK. But, this one's pretty good, he's---

::::::tone break, as J describes his shrink friend and why they like each other, emphasis on individual strengths... expounds on history of certain Central Asian country genocide and residual resultant cultural side effects... S laughs, waxes pharmaceutical, ties to Psych class, tonight's exam at bowling alley. J gets a helluva kick out of this. Apologizes for laughing. ("I'm sorry it's just... It's just surreal, actually, it's really Napoleon Dynamite, I mean the test at the bowling alley? Naturally! Sorry for making light of it... What? Is there a malevolent subtext I'm missing?") ::::::::::::::

So, next week, do you want to just say Friday?

Um...

I mean, I still have you in the calendar for Tuesday, but...

Well...

Well why don't you think about it and let me know by tomorrow morning? I need to know by tomorrow morning because by Monday morning I have to know--

Okay. Okay.

Okay. :::stands, slowly moseys to door:::

:::stands, and, not to be completely outwitted this match::: Oh Julian?

Yes?

Can you give me his number?

Sorry?

The psychiatrist, your friend, that you're referring me to?

Oh, sure.....


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Guess Who's Still Up?

That's right, me. Me, bitches.

This is dumbfounding. I'd have to get up shortly before work to get a good [night's] sleep at this point. And I was passing out at the diner. It's the damn booze. I don't get drunk, I don't ACTUALLY ever pass out, just CNS-depressed enough so that I can't sleep when it wears off. What a bitch, that.

I just had an hour-and-a-half long sexual fantasy about Julian. I am, okay, pretty SF at this point. If he touched me to any degree I would probably have an orgasm. OMG, sigh.

I laughed really hard twice yesterday.

1. At the show, there was a singer/guitar-player D00D who just, sucked like Electrolux up in there. I did NOT laugh while he was playing! Though I did hiccup once when he did something musically silly but it came off like an amused, laugh-with... But for the rest of his performance I think I was just staring ahead of me and tearing a beer label to shreds in my lap thinking about losing my gear. The emcee made eye contact with me at one point and I noticed I was visibly unhappy and quickly recomposed. But after the D00D was done he was like, talking to him from the stage, like, "That's original material, Travis? That's cool, man," and I was just like uh-oh giggles might be nigh... but they weren't, but then after Travis D. ooD walks out, the emcee goes, "I think it was great how he was just like I wrote a song, driving down the road, and it was long, and I'm just playin' it," but I mean, it was like really to the tune, and phrasing, of TD's, and I had a major onslaught, and no one else really seemed to even think it was supposed to be funny but the emcee had that evil little faint non-smile some comedians get when they're telling a hilarious, slightly mean joke. Ah, these things translate so badly...

2. At the club tonight, okay, this will translate badly too, because it's another impersonation. God, what translates to writing worse than an impersonation? Nothing, I think! I think this is as bad as a choice as I could have made! But maybe you can imagine... So, it's this girl Asia who's hilarious when she's drunk, if a little mean-hilarious, and is REALLY pretty, like a DOLL-cute, she's black with freckles, which is my FAVORITE, and huge Bambi eyes and round, perfect everything, and long straight black hair, which of course is fake as a $3 bill , but eveything else is real. Anyway, she's like implausibly cute, and she starts going off about Karolina, like "She come up to these men, like, You don't have money? Like, real concerned-like, like, Where's my money? Just like, confused..." And she was doing the Russian accent, and it was so dead on, I was dying, and she kept doing it, elaborating like, "But no, no, she be really curious, like," and she walked up to me again with Karolina's curious look, "You don't have money? And the man said, he don't have money, she be like," and she walks up to me again, this time like cocking her head even more confused, "Where is my money?" And she just KEPT doing it, and it just got funnier everytime, till I'm like laying back on the seats kicking my feet up and down like, "No!!!! Don't do it!!!" And Asia's like, "She be doin' it all night long." And Karolina walks in like "What you bitches are talking about?" and Asia's like, "You, bitch, talkin' bout "Where's my money all night long." And Karolina's like, "Well, tell me, why are you are here, you don't have money?" She's pretty f'in funny too. All the girls are, really, and Asia goes, "All night long." :::giggle:::

A Lapdance is...

"A lapdance is when a man pays a woman to treat him like a chair. A chair she really, really likes." -Demetri Martin

What did the Yogi say to the Hot Dog Vendor?

And he told me a joke.

What did the yogi-swami-guru say to the hot dog vendor?

Make me one with everything.

I asked him about poses that would help me sleep. He said maybe he could find a picture. He looked around. He said Okay, well I can explain this one to you. He explained it. "And the other one's a little harder... I could put you in it, one day when you're wearing pants because..."

I felt just a little cheap, for not... Next time I see him, I'm gonna leave contrived sexuality at home. Sharon Shone shot, I think not.

And maybe I'll lie on the floor, and he'll put me in a pose. Gentle, firm, leaned over me, touching my body, guiding me, divining the universe.