I just want to go to a club and find the man of my dreams, the kind of man with a bedazzled behind. He is the highest pick of them all. He is communicating to you that he can take care of you for your life that’s why he’s showing off his riches in the form of rhinestones on either his flared jeans or affliction fallen angel shirt. Think of it like a peacock. I want his arm to be as big as my thigh, just because. Protein! Protein! Protein! I want to hear him walk by, sort of like a cat collar with a bell on it, so his shoes must have a heel and extra pointy. I always look when I hear that manly clicking sound. His smell must fill my nostrils with a powerful odor that can out odor any others. The smell needs to go inside my brain so I am not thinking of anything else but his smell. I have to taste it, that’s how powerful it must be. His hair must be so full of product that smoking is a hazard because it may be flammable. I need to know that my man’s hair will not move no matter how strong the wind; it must be able to withstand tornado weather.
The man for me knows how to dance. Body rolls for days and days. And you can’t forget about the all-important fist pump. You know he is sparking the romance with that fist. I really enjoy when he, without permission (because I don’t really know what I want), starts to grind all up on me. I love it. I can’t get enough of it. It turns me onto love like blood to sharks. I know he is asking me to be his future wife. I especially enjoy the dry humping it’s so romantic it makes my heart shiver in a good way.
When he’s buying me endless drinks to the point of forgetting where I am I know it’s out of love. He cares so much about me he wants to be my guide for the night, and eventually life. Where else does love come from other than the club?
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Not yet named project exerpt.
The party was happening, with or without Richie. It was in the back of Ruby’s head to just cancel the whole thing, but Peter’s annoyingly truthful words were on repeat in her brain, “You can’t base your fun off him.” But she had to admit to herself, that’s exactly what she was doing. HE was the reason she had planned the party, and he wasn’t even coming.
Despair pit was ready for her to jump in.
Ruby was a full believer in movie moments, and this was one of them. She stood, with drink in hand in the same place (face in full frown) while people moved quickly around her enjoying their posh Hollywood party at their “friend” Peter’s 3 million dollar home. She was stuck in depression slow motion while everyone else was having a stupid good time. The only solution in her mind was to get completely sloshed. Not Hollywood sloshed, regular sloshed.
“What are you drinking Ruby?” Peter came up next to her putting his arm around her knowing of her disappointment. She always did it to herself.
She looked down into her cup, completely forgetting what she was drinking or what number she was on, something she usually kept in mind. She hated throwing up. She hated the spins. She really didn’t enjoy being drunk at all. It was a bad sign that she was paying no attention to her drink intake, it was an even worse sign that she became wildly dizzy from just moving her eyes from her cup to Peter’s face.
“I don’t know, that guy made it,” she pointed to a surfer bro she hadn’t ever met previous to the moment he handed her a drink and knew he was too good looking to be actually interested in her which made her feel worse about herself. She took the drink anyway.
“Hmm, I say we should probably put it down then huh?”
“I don’t care,” everything seemed
“Stop it Ruby. I told you not to have this party if you were going to base it off this guy.”
“You knew that is exactly what I was doing.”
“Well did you invite him? “
“Of course I did! Jesus Peter! You think I can’t do anything involving men. I’m not that pathetic.”
He put up his hands defensively, “No. I was just wondering. Where is he? What’s the story?”
She sat down on the ground in the middle of everything, not caring what people were thinking. They were the type to think things, especially drunk gangly girls who sit on the ground in the middle of a Hollywood party. She didn’t even know 90 percent of them anyway, “He said he had to work until four in the morning. So there was no way he would be able to come.”
“Bartender?”
“Yeah, at some club called Epic.”
Peter began coughing spastically.
“What Peter?”
“That’s a gay club Ruby. He’s one hundred percent queer.”
Ruby’s heart suddenly became and anchor.
“What? No! I don’t really know if that’s what he said. I don’t know if that’s where he works. Maybe he didn’t say that. Lots of things sound like epic,” she knew it was absolutely ridiculous but she felt the water works starting. She shook her head and covered her hot face.
“Ruby, I sort of got that vibe from him. It makes so much sense now,” he laughed, “He would always sort of smile at me weird, and check me out constantly.”
“Peter!” She couldn’t stay in the room. She couldn’t let these people know she was the type of girl who would cry over a guy she didn’t even know. Not that she cared about these people (but the fact was she actually did care). Her heart was breaking and she didn’t even know if the guy liked the Beatles but for him she would’ve let it slide if he didn’t.
In a drunken stupor she found herself in Peter’s master bathroom sitting in his glamorous rich people jet tub. It was weird, but it seemed every time she drank too much she found herself in the tub.
She took a deep breath and then realized he did say the word epic. He pronounced it with pride. “EP-IC.” He was gay. He was. Ruby had a better chance with Zac Ephron then Richie. Peter had more of a chance with Richie than she did, but then again Peter had a better chance with straight men than her, he was doused with the glory of fame and beauty.
And with that knowledge she began to bawl.
“Ruby?” there was a knock at the door, a female’s voice, “Ruby, it’s Angelica.”
“I don’t feel like talking. I don’t even know who you are!” She positioned herself into a ball hugging her knees to her nose.
“Sure you do, we are at the same agency.”
The last person in the world Ruby wanted to talk to was a pretty model that had no trouble getting any man.
“Like I want to talk to you.”
“Come on Ruby, open the door, we can talk about whatever is going on.”
“Leave me alone. I’m not crying because I’m drunk! It’s because I’m really sad!”
“I know you are,” it wasn’t Angelica anymore, it was Peter, “Please let me in. Please?”
Ruby, very unsteadily, unlocked the door, still whimpering like a baby, and made it back into her tub position. She could here Peter’s fancy shoes click and him sitting next to the tub.
“You’re only crying because you are really very drunk Ruby.”
“No I am not! This is so depressing. Seriously. The one guy I thought was interested in me turns out to be gay. I can guarantee you that the only reason he was being nice to me is so he could see you. He was far too good looking for me anyways. He probably wouldn’t even give me a second glance if he was straight. This sucks,” she put her face in between her knees and tried to keep her sight straight on the white tub bottom.
“Stop it Ruby, you know that is rubbish. Plus we don’t know if he’s gay for sure! Straight people sometimes work at gay clubs. In fact I asked my friend Chris out there, he says straight people do all the time. Bartenders will try to get jobs anywhere. I bet he’s straight Ruby.”
“Shut up. He is gay, we both know it. You said he was constantly checking you out.”
“I was making an ill-timed joke Ruby.”
“No, it’s true.”
“Come here Ruby,” she felt him tugging at her shirt but she didn’t budge.
“I wish it were raining.”
“I know you do. Will you please get up? We can still have fun.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
“Come on, get up.”
Ruby stood up reluctantly as Peter assisted her. She put her arms around his waist and closed her eyes as he let them into the shower room and turned on the cold water.
“Hey look! It’s raining Ruby!”
She frowned. How could someone so married be so nice to her? Peter knew that Richie was gay but as long as it would make Ruby happy he would pretend he wasn’t until it was impossible.
Despair pit was ready for her to jump in.
Ruby was a full believer in movie moments, and this was one of them. She stood, with drink in hand in the same place (face in full frown) while people moved quickly around her enjoying their posh Hollywood party at their “friend” Peter’s 3 million dollar home. She was stuck in depression slow motion while everyone else was having a stupid good time. The only solution in her mind was to get completely sloshed. Not Hollywood sloshed, regular sloshed.
“What are you drinking Ruby?” Peter came up next to her putting his arm around her knowing of her disappointment. She always did it to herself.
She looked down into her cup, completely forgetting what she was drinking or what number she was on, something she usually kept in mind. She hated throwing up. She hated the spins. She really didn’t enjoy being drunk at all. It was a bad sign that she was paying no attention to her drink intake, it was an even worse sign that she became wildly dizzy from just moving her eyes from her cup to Peter’s face.
“I don’t know, that guy made it,” she pointed to a surfer bro she hadn’t ever met previous to the moment he handed her a drink and knew he was too good looking to be actually interested in her which made her feel worse about herself. She took the drink anyway.
“Hmm, I say we should probably put it down then huh?”
“I don’t care,” everything seemed
“Stop it Ruby. I told you not to have this party if you were going to base it off this guy.”
“You knew that is exactly what I was doing.”
“Well did you invite him? “
“Of course I did! Jesus Peter! You think I can’t do anything involving men. I’m not that pathetic.”
He put up his hands defensively, “No. I was just wondering. Where is he? What’s the story?”
She sat down on the ground in the middle of everything, not caring what people were thinking. They were the type to think things, especially drunk gangly girls who sit on the ground in the middle of a Hollywood party. She didn’t even know 90 percent of them anyway, “He said he had to work until four in the morning. So there was no way he would be able to come.”
“Bartender?”
“Yeah, at some club called Epic.”
Peter began coughing spastically.
“What Peter?”
“That’s a gay club Ruby. He’s one hundred percent queer.”
Ruby’s heart suddenly became and anchor.
“What? No! I don’t really know if that’s what he said. I don’t know if that’s where he works. Maybe he didn’t say that. Lots of things sound like epic,” she knew it was absolutely ridiculous but she felt the water works starting. She shook her head and covered her hot face.
“Ruby, I sort of got that vibe from him. It makes so much sense now,” he laughed, “He would always sort of smile at me weird, and check me out constantly.”
“Peter!” She couldn’t stay in the room. She couldn’t let these people know she was the type of girl who would cry over a guy she didn’t even know. Not that she cared about these people (but the fact was she actually did care). Her heart was breaking and she didn’t even know if the guy liked the Beatles but for him she would’ve let it slide if he didn’t.
In a drunken stupor she found herself in Peter’s master bathroom sitting in his glamorous rich people jet tub. It was weird, but it seemed every time she drank too much she found herself in the tub.
She took a deep breath and then realized he did say the word epic. He pronounced it with pride. “EP-IC.” He was gay. He was. Ruby had a better chance with Zac Ephron then Richie. Peter had more of a chance with Richie than she did, but then again Peter had a better chance with straight men than her, he was doused with the glory of fame and beauty.
And with that knowledge she began to bawl.
“Ruby?” there was a knock at the door, a female’s voice, “Ruby, it’s Angelica.”
“I don’t feel like talking. I don’t even know who you are!” She positioned herself into a ball hugging her knees to her nose.
“Sure you do, we are at the same agency.”
The last person in the world Ruby wanted to talk to was a pretty model that had no trouble getting any man.
“Like I want to talk to you.”
“Come on Ruby, open the door, we can talk about whatever is going on.”
“Leave me alone. I’m not crying because I’m drunk! It’s because I’m really sad!”
“I know you are,” it wasn’t Angelica anymore, it was Peter, “Please let me in. Please?”
Ruby, very unsteadily, unlocked the door, still whimpering like a baby, and made it back into her tub position. She could here Peter’s fancy shoes click and him sitting next to the tub.
“You’re only crying because you are really very drunk Ruby.”
“No I am not! This is so depressing. Seriously. The one guy I thought was interested in me turns out to be gay. I can guarantee you that the only reason he was being nice to me is so he could see you. He was far too good looking for me anyways. He probably wouldn’t even give me a second glance if he was straight. This sucks,” she put her face in between her knees and tried to keep her sight straight on the white tub bottom.
“Stop it Ruby, you know that is rubbish. Plus we don’t know if he’s gay for sure! Straight people sometimes work at gay clubs. In fact I asked my friend Chris out there, he says straight people do all the time. Bartenders will try to get jobs anywhere. I bet he’s straight Ruby.”
“Shut up. He is gay, we both know it. You said he was constantly checking you out.”
“I was making an ill-timed joke Ruby.”
“No, it’s true.”
“Come here Ruby,” she felt him tugging at her shirt but she didn’t budge.
“I wish it were raining.”
“I know you do. Will you please get up? We can still have fun.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
“Come on, get up.”
Ruby stood up reluctantly as Peter assisted her. She put her arms around his waist and closed her eyes as he let them into the shower room and turned on the cold water.
“Hey look! It’s raining Ruby!”
She frowned. How could someone so married be so nice to her? Peter knew that Richie was gay but as long as it would make Ruby happy he would pretend he wasn’t until it was impossible.
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