Wake up- 6:00. not yet. 6:10. not yet. 6:28. ugh.
Eat something- generally its something horrible for me or carnation instant breakfast.
Go to summer school-this is where my story gets interesting-
i get to school around 8 dressed in AmerEagle pants and Abercrombie shirt. i looked good. period. lol. as i sit down to wait for class to start- frenchy walks in. light purple shirt (lilac, if you will) corduroy pants. sits down. across from me. class starts, and being the court jester i am, i crack a few jokes, ppl laugh. ace a test. make some more jokes- then, something interesting happens...
Take break from class- i walk out of the room and the purple shirts waiting there for me. smiling with every snag of eye contact he makes.
Tell him his purple shirt has a spot on it by caressing the area- this was odd. i didnt exactly intend to rub his oblique, but i did. he made eye contact- smiled again- removed what appeared to be lint and replied, playfully, "not anymore". his shirt was excessively soft. i was amazed, cuz the material looked somewhat rough. his body was rock hard- as i already basically knew.
Walk back into class- boring lectures resume as i continue to think about purple shirt. "write this down" my teacher blares and briefly describes our potential failure in the class and in future studies if we dont take notes. frankly- fuck him. he thinks he knows what makes us do well. tell that to his assignments.
Get up as class ends
Stride toward purple shirt
Once in range, caress the hair right above his collar- it was so soft. we'd had a conversation about conditioner once before... which was incredibly homosexual. he giggled as i walked away, but i didnt look back (undercover homo)[the James(or Jane;-) Bond of froots].
Look at friend like im the boss- it felt awesome. my friend was just like- damn. he tha boss.
Come home
Work on linux computer
Realize we dont have a chat supported by empathy chat system
Listen to my dad yell at inanimate objects as i write this post
Finish writing this post- more of a to-do.
just a day in the life...
much lovesies- mikey
out.
So I think we have to coin a term for you: "power froot." The guy that owns every gay guy in school that he looks at. :)
ReplyDeleteHey M2 what's up nice to see you started a blog.
ReplyDeleteWhen I read this line-"but i didnt look back (undercover homo)[the James(or Jane;-) Bond of froots].
Look at friend like im the boss- it felt awesome. my friend was just like- damn. he tha boss."
The song, "damn it feels good to be a gangsta" should've been playing.
And since you love music so much, I think all your headline should be a song title. Either way look forward to reading more.
There are few things more fun that walking into a room and *owning* it. I've a friend who I used to head to West Hollywood all the time with, and he used to get mad at me: when I was in the mood, I could dress *just so* and walk *just so* and walk into a bar and everyone would turn to look. He actually went ahead of me into bars a couple of times just to watch it happen.
ReplyDeleteIt's not an ego thing, but that's part of it. It's not just how you dress or act or anything. It's something more. My friend used to call it "battle armor".
So, yeah, if you've got "it", be careful how you use "it". It's an evil power, but you can use it for good :P
haha... power froot... i have to say- i spent a lot of time working on this before anything happend. not only am i an attention getter, but im a schemer as well. it works out nicely. and pot- im guessing that softness is a song somewhere... but its porbably about vaginas.
ReplyDeleteHow do you type out the sizzle noise? :)
ReplyDelete