Another night of too much cough syrup. I am awakened by the incessant ringing of the telephone.
I still have dreams caked in the corners of my eyes and my mouth is dry and tastes s*****.
Again-the ringing. Slowly, I bustle out of bed. The remnants of an erection still lingering in
my shorts like a bothersome guest.
Again the ringing. Carefully I abscond to the bathroom so as to not display my manhood to
others. There I make the perfunctory morning faces, which always seem to precede my daily
contribution to the once-blue toilet water that I always enjoy making green.
Again the ringing. I shake twice like most others, as I am annoyed by the dribble that always
seems to remain, causing a small acreage of wetness on the front of my briefs. I slowly,
languidly, lazily, crazily stumble into the den where my father smokes his guitars-I mean
cigars-In his easy chair. I know all about easy chairs. And then I sing a song for my friends:
"Jesus is my boyfriend
Jesus is my boyfriend
You can't have him
Because Jesus is my boyfriend"
Ringing, ringing. Dang it g****** m************ s************* is ringing. I walk into the
kitchen and I stare blankly at that shrieking plastic b******. Since it keeps ringing I know
it's her, and since it keeps ringing she knows it's me.
We are the world, we are the children
We are the ones who make a darker day
So let's start killing
There's a choice you're making
We're sparing our own lives
It's true we'll make a darker day
Just you and me
I still have dreams caked in the corners of my eyes and my mouth is dry and tastes s*****.
Again-the ringing. Slowly, I bustle out of bed. The remnants of an erection still lingering in
my shorts like a bothersome guest.
Again the ringing. Carefully I abscond to the bathroom so as to not display my manhood to
others. There I make the perfunctory morning faces, which always seem to precede my daily
contribution to the once-blue toilet water that I always enjoy making green.
Again the ringing. I shake twice like most others, as I am annoyed by the dribble that always
seems to remain, causing a small acreage of wetness on the front of my briefs. I slowly,
languidly, lazily, crazily stumble into the den where my father smokes his guitars-I mean
cigars-In his easy chair. I know all about easy chairs. And then I sing a song for my friends:
"Jesus is my boyfriend
Jesus is my boyfriend
You can't have him
Because Jesus is my boyfriend"
Ringing, ringing. Dang it g****** m************ s************* is ringing. I walk into the
kitchen and I stare blankly at that shrieking plastic b******. Since it keeps ringing I know
it's her, and since it keeps ringing she knows it's me.
We are the world, we are the children
We are the ones who make a darker day
So let's start killing
There's a choice you're making
We're sparing our own lives
It's true we'll make a darker day
Just you and me