Double Flee A

random crap the typing of which will hopefully make me sleepy

Right now if I were in a place that allowed me to see the stars, I'd be looking up at Cassiopeia, the mother of Andromeda, which would be close to the middle of the sky. Not because it's the best constellation, but because it's my favorite to say.

I met a girl named Cassie once and when I asked her if she was named after the constellation she didn't know what I was talking about. Her full name was Cassandra. As long as you're just going to wind up "Cassie" anyway, I like Cassiopeia better.

She dated this piece of slime named Jason who cheated on her and everybody knew but her; he sold washing machines at Sears in the megamall, she was a receptionist at a low-grade hair salon. She moved in with him and eventually they got kicked out of their place. That was awesome because those assholes were loud. One night they threw some annoying coke party that I called the cops on twice, and the next morning I woke up at seven to see their roommate Mark (Mark who totally wowed the ladies by saying the word "Dostoyevsky" as frequently as possible. Hey, it worked for him.) shouting at a guy in my front yard and trying to do some really bad coked-up drunken kung fu on him. It was awful and embarrassing to hear, and much worse to watch. And it went on for a good fifteen minutes.

Mark finally moved out, then Jason had an old friend who had gotten out of prison that moved in with them and made tons of money dealing coke. When he got a bunch of money together he moved to some place nice far away (Prison again? Who cares?) and got rid of his furniture, which included a leather couch and loveseat. That loveseat still sits in my living room. It couldn't have been loved on for more than a week before it got tossed so some soap and water and I was good to go.

This was the same apartment that another girl moved into, that I gave the meanest letter I have ever written. Now I've gone looking for it in my archives and can't find it. I don't know what happened to it but I told that girl that the noise issuing from her place the night before (and it was of Stanley Kowalskian proportions) may have been because the fat guy (with the friend who looked like a weasel) was screaming and trying to break in because she had really good pussy, but I didn't care if it was the best pussy in the world, that things had better quiet down or that I (as an anonymous person one does wield a certain --is authority the right word?-- in this sense) would see that they did. I'm kind of bummed I can't locate that. I was proud of it.

The people at my school thought I was kidding when I told them I was going to slide it under her door. She has since moved out as well. Now there are some nice quiet girls there.

I'm going to watch Bad Santa. This isn't making me any sleepier.

posted by dale @ 12:00 AM