I wanted to branch out tonight and write something serious. To get away from the catfish style and attempt to pen some prose. Like in the romance novels. Something like this:
Bill didn't want to go to the party-his tongue was dragging and his boss had given him all the shit jobs to do today- but Julie was adamant.
"Get your ass in the shower, Bill. Let's go," Julie says.
"What's so fucking important about going to this party, Julie? My fucking back aches, and I'm tired, honey; I've had the worst day imaginable," Bill counters as he rambles on.
"I don't want to hear that shit from you, tonight, Bill. You know this is important to me. It's Charlie and Ann's going away party. Ann is my best friend, or have you forgotten that? I can't miss this, and I won't miss it for the world." Julie answers, somewhat demurely.
"Anything you say, Julie. I'm sorry, darling. I know how important this party is to you," Bill speaks sympathetically, as he pours himself a double shot of Glenfiddich!
"Don't you get drunk before we leave the house," demands Julie.
"Hey, Buttercup, get your ass over here. I like what I see," as Bill does an about-face.
"You haven't called me that in years, Bill!" Julie answers somewhat sheepishly, yet intrigued by this new twist from her husband.
"I said get your ass over here. Now!" No longer is he asking; Bill is demanding.
Julie, flush but excited, ambles over to the edge of the bed, where Bill is sitting. He grabs her silken hair and smothers himself in its aroma. He finds her mouth and begins to kiss her. He unsnaps her bra; she steps out of her panties.
Bill stands, admiring this nude creature in front of him. He slowly removes his shirt, as Julie is unbuttoning his pants. He removes his last article of clothing and throws Julie to the bed.
Just then, a knock on the door. Bill forgets he has ordered a pizza from Dominos. The delivery boy, er, man waits patiently outside. His name is v.c. A middle-aged man with thinning hair. Who has sunk so low, he is now a driver for Dominos!
"$25.50, mister!" says v.c.
"Aren't you a little old, buddy, to be delivering pizzas?" questions Bill.
We interrupt the rest of tonight's story. I can't get away from the v.c. mystique. So the story is-what else?-kaput, fini.'
I tried, but I failed, v.c.
P.S. I don't want to get anybody's panniesinawad over at youtube, so I'm just gonna leave the link for tonight's song. It's a good one. Copy and paste into ye olde browser and there you have it!
http://youtube.com/watch?v=1O6VxlMi69Q&mode=related&search=
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