To the BATMOBILE |
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Heavy beats revetabrate around the room. Hissing sounds.. sound as steam slowly fills the room. You cough (and ten years later, develop lung cancer and die a slow painful death. Don't smoke!). Suddenly trumpets blare, and the smoke parts to reveal a majestic silhouette, his cape billowing behind him by the combined effort of the air conditioner and every female's sudden exhalation. The next day you wake up, and have a really bad hangover. You knew you shouldn't have drunk so much, you hallucinating drunken fool, you. This was more or less the scenario I hoped to achieve last night at somebody's Boxing Day Special (note: there was nothing remotely special, apart from the fact it was a bit small and the DJ was particularly bad) house party. Though admittedly the people I met at the party (whom I really didn't expect to mean kind of deflated the pompous Superhero bluster. The talons are long and ever-reaching... (Names shall not be mentioned... well not in public. You have been warned however.) While I do feel the least bit of bastard-ness (my endless reservoir of vocabulary dried out. My bad) by not talking to some of them, after all... I'll think of an excuse when it hits me. My sincerest apologies! Unfortunately enough I doubt they'd be reading this. Can't say it'll contribute to any sleepless nights though. On a totally unrelated and extremely gross note, have you ever wondered why sex is spelled entirely with your left hand? Neither have I. Not till I found out. But I'm sure guys would know why. TO THE BATMOBILE |
The Writer
highly confidential Martin Butler, or affectionally known to others as "Butler", "Butlerman", or just "Butt". -Most eligible bachelor of 2004-every year henceforth - step aside Mr.Clooney -Doesn't particularly enjoy much anymore having been desensitized as part of a cruel torturous regime a.k.a IB... -Dislikes everything he doesn't like... Nov 8th - Remember the date! MSN - butlerwantsu@hotmail.com (Add with caution) Archives
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a tense atmosphere of hot air, greasy stains and the endless grumbles of the engine - and that's only me |
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