drink.ink.

I play host. I pretend to be an adult. It feels like all we ever do is pretend. I cook slowly to be sure not to destroy dinner or send anyone to the emergency room with food poisoning. London broil, mashed potatoes (with skins still intact), broccoli and garlic pasta-loadedwithbutter, garlic bread, and salad. One bottle of wine later, dinner was served. drunk.sloppy.hott mess of a host. Jose, of the Cuervo-persuasion, and I are good friends. REALLY GOOD FRIENDS. I'd let him fuck me, we're that close. instead, I kiss everyone. that's a lie, I'm lying to you already. Not even I, being a messy-happy-say-sorry-million-of-times-drunk, could bring myself to kiss my best friends brother. or her date. but I DID kiss everyone else. some were too drunk, lazy tongues.. some were terribly aggressive, throwing people against walls and sticking tongues down throats.choking.suffocating. no, wait.. that was me. My russian princess left me. She's beautiful and cold. too cold for relationships. too beautiful for me.

I learned that I can only read with one eye closed when intoxicated. Also that I'm a whore. bah!! I kissed his friends. yes, USMC's friends. at least one of them is single. I'm a terribleterrible person and have ink for blood.

I told Casper, "I think I like you a lot". I told my Rainbow Boy, "I love you, skittles". I have a date with the first, the later might be discharged from the Navy for being gay. I'm just glad it's happening after we dated, so I can't be blamed at all. Is that bad? Does it make me a bad person, that I'm mostly glad that I can't be blamed for someone else's misfortunes? ink for blood. I'm writing this with blood spilled by a rusty tack that was holding your picture on my wall. inkforblood. let me be the pen that writes your life, please?