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Guest DMX

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the newest and coolest underground hip hop album will be revealed in this thread

 

I woke up around 8:30 am, which is quite a bit earlier than i'm used to. I pretty much felt like shit (i'm not too sure what exactly shit feels like, but the expression is somehow fitting). My mother was annoying the hell out of me. She sometimes takes on a very irritating manner of speech that i couldn't possibly describe, because i can't really understand myself why i find it so irritating.

"Get - up."

The pause between words really got to me. And at the end of the word "up" the was an extra little half syllable added which was more just a movement of the mouth, so it sounded like "get up-uh". That doesn't describe it very well, but hey i'm a shitty writer.

"Don't worry about it, I've already calculated how much time it'll take me to get ready and i have another twenty minutes to lay in bed."

"well all I know is that whenever we go on a trip somewhere, you refuse to get up and the result is always that you're - not - ready."

I turned around in bed and went back to sleep.

I was actually pretty excited- I wasn't expecting our family vacation to be especially fun or interesting, but Boulder was driving me crazy and it would be nice to break the monotony, for better or for worse. Now I actually did need to get up because I tend to take long showers, so I rolled away from the wall until the bed came to an end and plopped on the floor, making a loud thump and startling my cat. I looked back and saw her head peering out of the bed into the relative vastness of my room, eyes wide and ears perked, scanning for hostility. She doesn't trust sudden movements.

My shower was like any other, which i suppose is a good thing. I jerked off sitting on the toilet afterwards, imagining a nice girl selfless enough to waste her time with me. She doesn't exist and i don't expect her to. I say selfless because I can't possibly imagine what I could have to offer her, not in a material sense but in every sense (material included without a doubt). Anyways, enough of that. I'm sure I'll have plenty of opportunties to get into it later.

I packed. I actually wasn't even sure how long we would be gone, but i knew it wouldn't be more than a week so i packed for a week. I could've just asked, but I was in a pissy mood and I didn't feel like talking. Plus I felt a bit stupid for not knowing already. I suppose I was even stupider for not asking.

I put on some music and popped three vicodins in my last ten minutes or so before departure to get me in a better mood. Pain killers were a new area for me, but I was going to become a little better aquainted with my new friend over the next week because I had a hefty supply of the little white pills. I really would have liked to have some pot, but I was dead broke and plus I don't like having illegal drugs anywhere near an airport. Anyways, the music was Beck's "midnite vultures." I highly recommend it. It's very fun to sing along to, and perfect for summertime bad moods.

It's getting to be a real pain in the ass capitalizing all these "I"s. My instinct is to write entirely in lowercase, so maybe i'll just do that for a bit. i'll probably switch back to correctness at some point, but i can't make any promises.

Actually, now that I've been writing somewhat correctly for a few minutes, it's becoming a chore to use all lowercase letters. Nevermind.

My original point was that I was saying "I" too much. I tend to talk about myself alot sometimes simply because i can't think of anything else to talk about. Which is a real shame, because I hate people who always talk about themselves. Actually I mostly just hate people who brag about themselves, which I don't think I do, but of course I could be mistaken because I tend to forget things.

Aaannnnnnnnyways, I sat down on my nice fluffy green chair for a minute and sort of grooved out to the music. That probably sounds stupid, and it is, but hey, I like to groove out. My dad came in, ready to tell me to get out of bed, and then looked down at my chair and said, "oh. you're ready." and walked out. Me and the old dad have grown quite distant over the years and never really talk, but I'm pretty fond of the guy. Sometimes he reminds me alot of myself, which both worries and excites me for alot of reasons that i can't quite articulate right now.

And it was time to go. At this point it's only fair to tell you, my fine nonexistant reader, where exactly we were going. Las Vegas. I really had no idea what to expect other than the obvious, and the fact that i'm seventeen years old (which i find very cute and love to mention in all my writings) made even the obvious inaccessible to some extent. Nonetheless, we were off. The cast was my mother, my father, my sister, and of course, myself. How original. During the ride the vicodin had started to kick in and was making me feel very nice and fuzzy, and I had a good time sitting in the back seat in silence looking at highway graffiti as we made or way to the Denver airport.

 

...to be continued (as always)

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Guest amorphic
Originally posted by DMX

midnight snacks in the mausoleum

 

IM me sometime....we'll drive around in the electric blue ford probe picking up raver chicks

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Guest drunken phil
Originally posted by Dr. Dazzle

People have to learn that the majority of folks on here, including myself, will read no more than one paragraph.....

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Whoa...

 

I actually found myself reading that whole thing, and I must say it was pretty interesting. I don't believe that the person who wrote it was 17. The vocab and use of those words make it almost impossible to be someone who does not have a college education. What do I know? Good deal though, and I'm awaiting the sequel..

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Re: Whoa...

 

Originally posted by ClueTwo602

I actually found myself reading that whole thing, and I must say it was pretty interesting. I don't believe that the person who wrote it was 17. The vocab and use of those words make it almost impossible to be someone who does not have a college education. What do I know? Good deal though, and I'm awaiting the sequel..

 

thank you, i really am 17 but i actually thought it was pretty plain spoken. i'll add more as soon as i get drunk again

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it's pretty funny that when i post this i get about 15 responses and when i post a thread about how i dislike piercings it gets 40.

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Guest PHYNE
Originally posted by Dr. Dazzle

People have to learn that the majority of folks on here, including myself, will read no more than one paragraph.....

 

i thought it was only me hahahahahah:crazy:

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