trying on a metaphor
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
dirt enthusiast
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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#extradirty
Mike Driver
KIROKAZE
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
taylor price
DEAR READER
⁂
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Claire Keane
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sheepfilms
Sweet Seals For You, Always
$LAYYYTER
d e v o n
seen from Malaysia
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@damonchanning
"Or until he’s riding a cow… In India." Ana smirked, ordering a glass of the same drink. Downing the glass, she looked over at the male. "Wanna make it a bet, babes?"
Damon gave the girl a curious look for a few seconds, "Riding in India on a cow -- you got yourself a bet."
He finished off with a wink and a mysterious grin. "I should introduce myself before I forget my own name, I'm Damon."
"You can’t control your hallucinations if you ever reach the point to have them.", she said in a serious tone as she took another puff of her cigarette.
"A man can dream, can't he?"
His eyes stayed on the brunette, "Got an extra smoke I steal from ya'? Kinda smoked all mine in in the past two hours in hopes it'll kill me faster." Damon and his sick humor.
"I should just be grateful you didn’t pull out the big guns. Y’know, that did it hurt when you fell from heaven bit."
"Or the whole are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only ten I see. You gotta give these assholes some credit though, they get pretty creative when it comes to this shit."
"I'm only drinking until I start hallucinating Steve Buscemi riding a horse. It's a fun game." He spoke after downing the glass of whiskey in front of him.
"Really, I’m all ears. What was the pick-up line?"
"Can I follow you home? Cause my parents always told me to follow my dreams."
{On her way back to her apartment, she accidentally happened to witness a conversation between a mysterious skinny man and a dark figure which Effy was unable to see. She was drawn to what they were talking about- as if she was invested in it. When she over-heard something about killing people she was confused if not scared. But before she heard another word, the guy walked away. Recklessly, Effy followed him from behind, making quiet steps as she getting closer to him. Staring at him as he lit a cigarette, she walked towards him.}
"Hey."
{His head turned to where the voice was coming from. It was someone he's never seen before. A little curious as to why she was speaking to him, he decided to reply instead of walk away.} "Why's a pretty girl like you lookin' so dazed and confused? Everything alright?"
Is this actually happening?
You really that shocked, Romero?
Meg had just clocked out— although, the way things worked at Fishponds was hardly methodical enough to involve actual time-out cards. All she’d done was kick Keith in the shin until he’d woken from his usual coma, and told him she was fucking off for the day. And was the end of a shift ever complete without the obligatory ‘I hate myself, fuck you god’ action of smoking a cigarette? The premier of the grey clouds was interrupted when she heard a vehement end to a conversation of dodgier proportions. Killing people? Had Bristol turned into a full scale Mafia club whilst she’d been cooking meth in her basement? She’d clearly missed the memo, and it was rather disheartening— Oh, how she’d go crazy for a nice murdering orgy. Sarcasm has begun dripping from the tongue of her inner monologue. There is no going back from this particular mental shithole. Stuck for life. Good on you, Doherty. With a push against the bricks, the shadows fell away from Meg’s physicality, and she pulled the toxic stick away from her lips for a split second, looking at the man that was foreign to the tarred corner of her brain that retained memories. Some she’d rather forget.
"Y’know you can still kill someone at a knitting class, right? Those fucking needles— about as vicious as Lindsay Cokehan’s cunt, and that’s no joke, either, Bateman. You ‘bout to go all American Psycho on my ass? Should I run for cover before you chop this ass up like J fucking Leto? C’mon Meg— you can do this, all that GTA San Andreas was building up to this— this is your moment to shine. Gag.”
When Damon heard the words coming from the blonde, he just continued to lean against the wall with sort of an amused look on his face. This woman sure was a clever one if she could come up with all that in the matter of a few seconds. He took a long hit of his cigarette, blowing smoke to the side before looking over at her.
"You always listen in on stranger's conversations? Not very polite of you young lady." He spoke in a mocking tone. "Look I'm gonna tell you the truth babe, I watched Scream once and I was like -- hey I can totally fuckin' do this too. It's been my dream to be Ghostface ever since. I just want Billy Loomis and Stu Macher to teach me their ways. Please oh please don't tell on me, my moms will ground me and never make my favorite PB & J for me ever again."
Fuck, why did god give me a vagina if I’m actually supposed to buy that shit? Like, you make me wanna puke on babies when you said “Layla my princess”. Please, never again.
That better not be in the sense that she’s doing the job worse than me. If I find The Clash under Teen Suicide’s section, I’ll kick her arse.
No she-- Nevermind. Look, princess, you ever gonna let me take you out or should I forget about it? Just remember, if you shut me down I'll just keep comin' back.
Like you’ve been waiting on me this whole time, I bet.
You know I don’t work at Bob’s anymore, you can stop hitting on me for free records.
Bet you wish I have been though, Romero. You girls love your sappy, romantic shit don't ya'? The day I got back into town, I was standin' outside your house with thousands of roses yellin', Layla my princess! Come to me! We can ride on my horse into the sunset!
Hey I ain't lookin' for free records, at least not from you. There's a new girl there -- well you can finish the rest. But she ain't no Layla Romero.
"Look I told you I'm not doin' that shit right now. I don't do it any time someone asks. You're talkin' like killin' people is a fun fuckin' hobby of mine. If I want a hobby I'll start a god damn knitting class. I'm takin' a break -- if you're boy ain't lying six feet under in a few weeks then give me a call."
Damon didn't stay and listen to what the man had to say, he walked off from the alley. He was pretty heated up, so he stopped and went to light a cigarette. There really was no reason for his feeling of agitation. Maybe it was just that one tiny part of him that hated the things he did that was fucking with his head. Damon just stood against a building for a few minutes not sure what he was gonna do next.
Didn’t think I’d see this town until it was covered in snow and plastered with artificial colored lights. Guess that’s life for ya.
Is that really lil' miss Layla Romero? I was wonderin' when I was gonna see you again. Tits and smile still lookin' great.
