Well, there was an anti-bullying assembly at school Thursday that made a lot of people cry and I didn't because I was telling jokes with my friend Aaron the entire time. I was telling him how grateful I was that I appreciated my life any way it turned out because I love living and my ex-friend and infamous bitch Megan took it upon herself to say, "Hey Jenni, knock it off. That's not funny", to which I snapped my fingers like a ghetto lady, laughed, and retorted, "Snappity snap. That's bullying. Bitch swerve!" I'm sorry, I guess I forgot that American is a fucking communist country that doesn't like opinions! Oh wait, that's right-- we're not communist and we support free speech.... Hmm. In that case, Megan, you can go fuck yourself.Anyway, because of Thursday, the baseline of this chapter and the one after (because it was too long to make into one) will be based off of my dumb-ass encounter with the world's biggest bitch. That is all!
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(Friday)
It was Friday and Black Sabbath was playing on the stereos around the billiards room. "Generals gathered in their masses, just like witches at black masses. Evil minds that plot destruction, sorcerer of death's construction. In the fields the bodies burning, as the war machine keeps turning. Death and hatred to mankind, poisoning their brainwashed minds!" rang through the room as cigarette and joint smoke billowed through the open windows and into the darkness outside. Robert had just lit an incense stick and had taken back his seat at the poker table.
Around the table were six loud, boisterous, and intoxicated men; the Quartet, Syd Barrett formerly of Pink Floyd, and Chris Dreja formerly of The Yardbirds. I had to admit that Syd was really attractive and mysterious, being a person who was attracted to men with dark eyes and hair of course. A cigarette hung limply from his lips as he held his cards fast to his chest, his eyes focused on the pool in the center of the table.
Bianca was standing over Jimmy rubbing his shoulders and whispering words of encouragement. I, however, crouched between Bonzo and Syd, leaning more toward Bonzo. Rather than words of encouragement, I was whispering hints to Bonzo and he was nodding in understanding. The house seemed so much emptier without the wives around and I found myself soothing Bonzo's homesickness more often than not.
"You can't help him," Syd leaned over and whispered. I could feel the rouge in my cheeks burning through and I tried to hide my face.
"I'm not helping," I said coolly, "I'm pointing out the obvious that is not so obvious. Bonzo could do this all himself."
"Then why doesn't he?" Syd laughed. I lowered my lids and chanced a look at him. He was smiling down at me, a large ring on his right hand glinting in the adequate light of the Billiards room and his sullen eyes pierced me inquisitively.
Prepared to stand, I was surprised that it was Bonzo who got up. He tossed his cards on the table, put out his cigarette, and addressed the remaining five and Bianca, "I'm turning in early. We've got a press conference to be at tomorrow and I need my beauty rest. G'night, mates."
"G'night, Bonzo," Jimmy said, a cigarette in his lips, without looking up from his cards. The rest of the boys wished him a well rest and Bonzo left for upstairs.
Sighing, I stood and said my goodbyes as well. "I think I'll grab a piece of custard then go on up to bed. Bianca?"
"I'll be in the kitchen in a minute, the game is getting good!" she smiled. I laughed; this, coming from a person who thinks a "Full House" is a Catholic reference. I nodded and went through the passage to the kitchen.
As I pulled a piece of custard out of the fridge, Syd entered, leaning flirtatiously on the door frame, his eyes like X-Ray scanners. I felt very vulnerable, but I knew Syd was a good guy-- or so they boys had said.
"You know," he said, casually strolling toward me at the island, "I remember this house. T'was Dave's. Gilmour, if you didn't know." I nodded. I had already known that from the time Jimmy told me the first day we got here. "He loved this place. The bedrooms are huge, the living room is a work of art, and the lovely little dinning hall was always my favorite room. It was cozy with that wee fireplace on the wall."
I scooped a piece of custard into my mouth and nodded, trying to ignore how sexy his face was with that added mystery. He leaned over the counter and studied me with heavy lids and obvious interest. I smiled and looked down at my desert.
"Don't be bashful," he said softly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tablet of something. He stuck the tablet on his tongue and pressed it against the roof of his mouth, not taking his eyes off me. "Want one?"
"What is it?" I asked as he pulled out a second one for me. I examined the object in his hand and I automatically knew what it was. The unmistakable Mickey Mouse wizard on the top of the square of paper; it was Acid. I hadn't seen it since 1968.
"A minor grade LSD," he replied enthusiastically. "It will last you until midnight."
I glanced at the clock on the wall, amazed that I was actually open to doing Acid again. I clicked my tongue by accident and looked back at Syd. "It's One A, Syd," I observed. "You're saying it'll last me the entire of today?"
"It isn't one in the morning," Syd argued. He looked up at the clock. "Aye, I guess it is. Very well, it'll last you until four."
"I'd prefer sleep, sorry," I turned the tablet down, my expression giving away my longing. I fixed my jaw and looked up into Syd's confident face, trying to hide my excitement. "Are you sleeping over?"
"I ain't driving home after I dropped Acid, now am I?" he laughed. He walked around the island and stood closely next to me. "I could stay in your room. I won't tell me Mum."
"You're a self-destructive fellow, aren't you?" I asked. He breathed a chuckle of laughter, ruffling my hair. "I'd rather not have you in my bed if you're going to be fighting dragons or something wild all night long."
The kitchen door swung open and Jimmy entered with two cups. He seemed to not notice us and I resumed my eating while Syd walked up to Jimmy and patted him on the back. "'Ey, Jim, do you think it'd be okay if I spend a night here? I just dropped some low-grade Acid and I can't make it home."
"Sure," Jimmy replied, filling one cup with Jack and setting the other in the sink. He kept the bottle for himself and I assumed the cup was for some one else. He threw his head back and gulped a large amount of Jack Daniels, running his sleeved arm over his mouth when he had swallowed. "There's plenty extra rooms--"
"Jenni already invited me to sleep in her room," Syd interrupted. Jimmy sobered right up and looked at me inquisitively. I hadn't heard Syd and I was confused.
"Did she?" Jimmy asked rhetorically. He seemed slightly offset by this with an emotion that I couldn't decipher in the drunken state that I was. "Very well...."
Around the table were six loud, boisterous, and intoxicated men; the Quartet, Syd Barrett formerly of Pink Floyd, and Chris Dreja formerly of The Yardbirds. I had to admit that Syd was really attractive and mysterious, being a person who was attracted to men with dark eyes and hair of course. A cigarette hung limply from his lips as he held his cards fast to his chest, his eyes focused on the pool in the center of the table.
Bianca was standing over Jimmy rubbing his shoulders and whispering words of encouragement. I, however, crouched between Bonzo and Syd, leaning more toward Bonzo. Rather than words of encouragement, I was whispering hints to Bonzo and he was nodding in understanding. The house seemed so much emptier without the wives around and I found myself soothing Bonzo's homesickness more often than not.
"You can't help him," Syd leaned over and whispered. I could feel the rouge in my cheeks burning through and I tried to hide my face.
"I'm not helping," I said coolly, "I'm pointing out the obvious that is not so obvious. Bonzo could do this all himself."
"Then why doesn't he?" Syd laughed. I lowered my lids and chanced a look at him. He was smiling down at me, a large ring on his right hand glinting in the adequate light of the Billiards room and his sullen eyes pierced me inquisitively.
Prepared to stand, I was surprised that it was Bonzo who got up. He tossed his cards on the table, put out his cigarette, and addressed the remaining five and Bianca, "I'm turning in early. We've got a press conference to be at tomorrow and I need my beauty rest. G'night, mates."
"G'night, Bonzo," Jimmy said, a cigarette in his lips, without looking up from his cards. The rest of the boys wished him a well rest and Bonzo left for upstairs.
Sighing, I stood and said my goodbyes as well. "I think I'll grab a piece of custard then go on up to bed. Bianca?"
"I'll be in the kitchen in a minute, the game is getting good!" she smiled. I laughed; this, coming from a person who thinks a "Full House" is a Catholic reference. I nodded and went through the passage to the kitchen.
As I pulled a piece of custard out of the fridge, Syd entered, leaning flirtatiously on the door frame, his eyes like X-Ray scanners. I felt very vulnerable, but I knew Syd was a good guy-- or so they boys had said.
"You know," he said, casually strolling toward me at the island, "I remember this house. T'was Dave's. Gilmour, if you didn't know." I nodded. I had already known that from the time Jimmy told me the first day we got here. "He loved this place. The bedrooms are huge, the living room is a work of art, and the lovely little dinning hall was always my favorite room. It was cozy with that wee fireplace on the wall."
I scooped a piece of custard into my mouth and nodded, trying to ignore how sexy his face was with that added mystery. He leaned over the counter and studied me with heavy lids and obvious interest. I smiled and looked down at my desert.
"Don't be bashful," he said softly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tablet of something. He stuck the tablet on his tongue and pressed it against the roof of his mouth, not taking his eyes off me. "Want one?"
"What is it?" I asked as he pulled out a second one for me. I examined the object in his hand and I automatically knew what it was. The unmistakable Mickey Mouse wizard on the top of the square of paper; it was Acid. I hadn't seen it since 1968.
"A minor grade LSD," he replied enthusiastically. "It will last you until midnight."
I glanced at the clock on the wall, amazed that I was actually open to doing Acid again. I clicked my tongue by accident and looked back at Syd. "It's One A, Syd," I observed. "You're saying it'll last me the entire of today?"
"It isn't one in the morning," Syd argued. He looked up at the clock. "Aye, I guess it is. Very well, it'll last you until four."
"I'd prefer sleep, sorry," I turned the tablet down, my expression giving away my longing. I fixed my jaw and looked up into Syd's confident face, trying to hide my excitement. "Are you sleeping over?"
"I ain't driving home after I dropped Acid, now am I?" he laughed. He walked around the island and stood closely next to me. "I could stay in your room. I won't tell me Mum."
"You're a self-destructive fellow, aren't you?" I asked. He breathed a chuckle of laughter, ruffling my hair. "I'd rather not have you in my bed if you're going to be fighting dragons or something wild all night long."
The kitchen door swung open and Jimmy entered with two cups. He seemed to not notice us and I resumed my eating while Syd walked up to Jimmy and patted him on the back. "'Ey, Jim, do you think it'd be okay if I spend a night here? I just dropped some low-grade Acid and I can't make it home."
"Sure," Jimmy replied, filling one cup with Jack and setting the other in the sink. He kept the bottle for himself and I assumed the cup was for some one else. He threw his head back and gulped a large amount of Jack Daniels, running his sleeved arm over his mouth when he had swallowed. "There's plenty extra rooms--"
"Jenni already invited me to sleep in her room," Syd interrupted. Jimmy sobered right up and looked at me inquisitively. I hadn't heard Syd and I was confused.
"Did she?" Jimmy asked rhetorically. He seemed slightly offset by this with an emotion that I couldn't decipher in the drunken state that I was. "Very well...."
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