akasnuggles

He put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.
She didn't move away; she was tense and waiting under his hand.
He kissed her lips. They were warm and soft, slightly parted, and she turned and walked away.
'Lilac,' he said, and went after her.
She turned and said, 'No. Please, Chip, go,' and turned and walked away again.
He stood uncertainly. Another member was in the distance, coming towards them.
He watched her go, hating her, loving her.

I accidentally caught Samuel's cat on fire.
Seriously, it was an accident. I'd never intentionally light a small animal on fireor even a large animal, for that matter.
I would never light any living thing on fire.
'Cept maybe flies.
I fucking hate flies.
But never a cat.
Seriously...
But if you ever wanna make a grown man pull a horror-flail, light his cat on fire.
Take that, Kerouacyou beatnik fuck!
It was revenge, the lighting of the cat. I mean, i didnt mean to light the cat. Sammy fucked with me and i threw my lit lighter at him. He wasnt wearing a shirt, i was hoping that i would light his chesty-fur aflame.
But i didnt notice Nerm (ze cat) sitting in his lap.
AndPOOF!Nerm's face was on fire.
Oddly enough, her whiskers acted like little fuses, leading the flame to her cheek.
But she didnt meow or anything, the lil trooper. She barely recoiled as the flame came barreling at her.
She didnt freak out and run away, though she was pretty terrified. Her lil heart was beating pretty fast.
I was put in charge of cleaning the burnt hair from her face. She barely squarmed, didnt claw me, didnt bite.
The lil trooper.

She's fine.
Perfectly okay.
Ahem.

And i was hung over yesterday. Badly. And i had to work.
Because, in the history of the world, i'm the only bugger that ever has to work a Sunday. On a Sunday after a lengthy whisky binge.
Call it remorse for the cat flaming.
Too much whiskeytoo much whiskytoo much whisky.
And i apologize if Sunday morning I verbally jabbed anyone on here.
I've been drinking too much whiskyand i dont even like whisky.
Because when i drink whisky i have a tendency to wake up with a dry whistle coming from my nose, stale stomach acid in my throat topped with a mostly-dissolved sleeping pill in my mouth, and a fresh, full cigarette burn on the carpet.
A bad judgment call by anyone's standards.
So i either need to give up drinking altogether or drink more often.
Guess which i'm going for?
Nope, guess again.
I'm not implying that i have a drinking problem, not by any stretch, i'm just saying...
A hangover isnt what the good lord envisioned for a Sunday morning.
I think i've reached my quota of sardonic anti-Christianity for the month.
Or, week, rather.
Wait...
You need Jesus.
God is good.
There, that's it i think.
Peace be with you
Congregation: And also with you...

I'm not dead? 'Cause for a second there...no, but this is good too.

I was again in Pekin when the freak snow storm hit. It came from out of nowherejust as the word freak implies.
S and i left around 2 am to go to the bank and the ground was covered in about an inch of snow.
It's half way thru January and me, in my infinite wisdom, i'm still wearing Chucks.
You know, the shitty canvass shoe by Converse.
The ones that last about six months now that Nike bought out Converse.
Chucks used to be American made. That isnt a patriotic comment by any means, that's just saying since it was American made, there was no child labour involved.
This, my underachieving friends, is the main reason it was cool to wear the tragically-retro shoe.
Atleast to me.
This was, of course, before Converse went bankrupt and was bought out by Nike. Now they're made by kids and last six months.
Thanks, kids.
Thanks, Nike.
Thanks, Spike Lee.
You fucking hypocrite.
So Chucks aren't fit for this weathera lesson i learn every year.
I mean, they're canvass, for fook's sake.
They have bulleted holes in the side.
And in the snow...
So i have jungle boots, anyway. They're not broken in, though, and have a tendency to hurt my feetsies.
As well, a pair of faux-bowling shoesin red und white. Even they'd be warmer than Chucks.
...
'Cept they're made by Converse too and have a pinkie-toe-hole.
Fucking Kids.
Fucking Nike.
Fucking Michael J. Fox.
...MJF has nothing to do with Nike, but i've always wanted to say that

So, let us recap:
Whisky is bad.
Chucks are winter-bad.
Cats are flammable.

You live and learn, i guess...

In a universe next to ours, Sammy and I are an old gay couple and Nerm is our adopted child.