Sunday, September 26, 2010

phoney

♥♥♥

Times are sad.
Times are good and able.
Times are new, are roman.
Where will I go?

♥♥♥

"Oh Ciiiiiiiiiiiiiderrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...I'm dreaming of the day we will be together and can be miserable together!"

I don't know who says this, but surely someone, somewhere is thinking-dreaming-wishing it.

Cider is laying on his bed asleep with the television and one bedside light both on. He drank a few beers. He was trying to be manly, I think. The phone rings.

  "Cider?"

  "gurlge gurgle gurgle"

  "Cider, wake up, man."

  "gurgle gurgle"

  "C'mon, Cider. I'm sick of this...it's only 9 o'clock, dude..."

  "guuurrrrgle"

  "This is bullshit, Cider!"

The guy hangs up. It was Bingo. What a strange thing. He never usually calls Cider, and neither does anybody else except telemarketers. Cider is still sleeping, but the movie on television ends and the commercials that come on are very very loud. He's startled. He realizes Bingo just called, so he dials his number.

  "Hello?"

It's a girl. She's young. It's Trish.

  "Ooooooooooooooh hi, I need to speak to your father."

  "Oh Ciiiiidddderrrrr! He's not here right now, actually. You just missed him."

She sounds extra loud and nice like she's playing some bitchy game. Cider doesn't like to fool around with that kind of crap.

  "Yeah...well....he just called me...just tell him I'm up."

  "Well...I can't tell him, cause he's not here."

  "Fine."

Cider clicks the phone off. What a bitch.
Cider shuts his eyes again, and another movie comes on t.v.

It's in 3rd grade you start learning about compound sentences.

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