trysting the night away

king waterbed springs
sinking we swim for our lives
bad drowned oiled birds

forgot to bring it

...overall i'd have to say i'm unimpressed.

mmnm.

that's not to say there aren't, moments, where you're really getting close to something.

mmhmm.

but overall...

unimpressed.

yeah.

queen bitch

What do you want?

Everything.

No, I mean for lunch. I’m calling now.

Oh. I don’t care. Get me the opposite of what you’re having.

carson

petty crime? i don't care. i think about kids who figure out how to steal. i think that it demonstrates a throw-back resourcefullness. me and my friends all knew how to steal. we could trick you out of whatever you had on you. i was the weak link. i worried about the future. that's a detriment to the criminal.

where i grew up, nothing came easy. the houses were small squares. you could tell by the yards and the bushes who had money, and who had trouble. it wasn't irish, but it wasn't easy.

at school the kids were tough, like it was at home. but they weren't stupid. our parents were good people and smart with money and temper. they knew the cost of things. they knew how to punish too.

...

in school, carson was the king. one year, he had a seemingly endless supply of smoke bombs. he'd dole them out occasionally; his prices varied according to your status. fuck, if i could make a shirt it would say "carson". that guy. in grade eight, we had a quebec trip if you took french, so we all took french. one week in QC. then in la belle province teenagers could buy knives and dildos and porn at the head shops. we all bought switchblades when the teachers weren't looking. i think they didn't look on purpose. what you can't see you don't have to deal with, right?

anyway, you could do alot of things, but you couldn't smoke. if you got caught smoking cigarettees it meant you were sent home. so when i got caught out the window of our dorm window, i knew that was it.

so the teachers burst in the room and catch me basically red-handed and demand with pointed fingers: 'were you smoking?' and carson cooly says while we're all petrified, 'bailey doesn't smoke'. so they sent carson home and he never said a word. when i got back, i tried to give him the butterfly knife i'd bought but he goes: "it's cool b. it's cool."

woman you're a mess (dealer's perspective)

her dog bled from the head and died in a ferocious paroxysm. the tumour had grown for months and split the soft pelt weeks ago. she did nothing. i've been selling her for about nine years. she's never borrowed or asked for a spot. she's always had me in and her house has always presented well. most of my customers pride themselves on how you can't tell they use. they're in denial. but not her. with her, you'd never know. she was just no good with animals.

you can't choose your regulars

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