I kissed this girl
but her tongue didnt move right
and then she went home.
Before
I got her number & I saved it on my telephone
but I did it in the wrong alphabet.
so I wrote down all of the possible
permutations in order to decode
her name so that I would know it
if we ever kissed again.
Floor/Ceiling
blog post turned story
I was just about ready to leave when the pounding started on the door. Heavy, rhythmic, coupled with my name being shout in a heavily affected Russian accent ‘БРЕНДАН’ (pound pound pound). I opened the door.
Before me stood my downstairs neighbor, Alex. We generally don’t see each other much, we generally don’t talk much besides exchanging pleasantries on the stairs from time to time. Most of our conversations occur when the sound of walking people at my parties becomes unbearable for him on Friday/Saturday nights and he comes upstairs in order to ask us to be quieter. Usually he’s very civil, tonight he didn’t seem so civil and I had no people over to my apartment. I was confused.
Alex was visibly drunk. There were some stains on his roughly knit shirt. He was carrying a large jar in each hand. One appeared to be filled with tomatoes, the other, with berries and a berry colored liquid that appeared alcoholic. Behind him stood a young man, early teens, pre-pubescent mustache. He was looking at the ground. On Alex’s shoulder was a cat.
-Brendan! I’ve come today to celebrate with you! I’ve brought my son and my cat!
-Alex, I was just about to head out, I’m meeting friends
-Nonsense! Today is the day of defenders of our nation, we have to drink!
Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin looks awkward at a rap concert, and then gets on stage and expresses his deep gratitude for the art of hip hop and break dancing. lol
(thx jason via matt)
