#bonnmot

[deepglens]

BRADY EARL WESTLAKE.    ━━    for @bonnmot

[glyceren-blog]

“You know, what we need in America is a holiday where once a year the blue-collar man gets to go into the home of the white-collar man, eat his food, sleep in his bed and fuck his shit up.” xoxo ty ty baby

GENERATION KILL, accepting.

Tyler tells me that what we need in America is a holiday where once a year the blue-collar man gets to go into the home of the white-collar man, eat his food, sleep in his bed and fuck his shit up. Tyler tells me this as he’s eating a Big Mac. It might be that I’m getting sick, but looking at him crush processed beef into mush with his molars is making me want to vomit.

Maybe he’s right about this. Maybe America does need a holiday where once a year the blue-collar man gets to go into the home of the white-collar man and fuck his shit up. But Tyler tells me this like I’m supposed to do something about it. He has a vision of me in my best suit knocking on the doors to the White House: excuse me, can I take just a moment out of your day to talk to you about a holiday where once a year the blue-collar man etcetera etcetera? Thank you so much. Yes, I would like a coffee, if you don’t mind, Mr President.

I tell Tyler that America needs someone to bypass its security lock in the dead of night, creep up the stairs of its house, wake it up with a hand over its mouth, and kick the shit out of it. I tell him: Tyler, America is the last bastion of bullshit. We clink beers and my bottle runneth over and slosheth over the back of my hand.

Excuse me, can I take just a moment out of your day to talk to you about Tyler Durden?

I ask Tyler what’s so good about white-collar men anyway. I say, would you wanna spend a state-sanctioned holiday eating kale in a fucking McMansion?

It’s just the principle of the thing. I lick warm beer off of the webbing between my thumb and index finger before it gets sticky. I tell Tyler I’m out of cigarettes.

[bunburie-blog]

@bonnmot​

     “I think I underestimated how fancy this place was gonna be.”

     “Boy do I look like a fool.”

[bunburie-a-blog]

“You keep staring at me instead of watching the film. What’s up?” for snafu from sledge

soft sentence starters • not accepting unless we have a ship bc im lazy@bonnmot

Gene could ask to watch paint dry and Snafu would say yes. It’s not about movies – he doesn’t have the attention span for them, most of the time, finds his thoughts drifting loosely and not entirely by his own design far too easily. It’s about spending time with Gene. All of his clothes smell clean and fresh and they’re soft, somehow so much softer than anything Snafu has of his own, and sometimes when Snafu looks at him sidelong his profile is caught in the light from the kitchen if it’s still on, and it almost hurts, hot in his chest and the tips of his ears.

     “Nothin, sugar, you just keep catchin me at the wrong time.” That’s not true. He is smiling though, not entirely but just enough, biting down on the insides of his cheeks to stop Gene’s curiosity bubbling over. He gets self-conscious, he goes pink under his freckles, he fidgets, he gets bashful and scoffs and shakes his head.

On second thoughts. Snafu grins, almost impish, showing teeth. “Naw, you’re right. I’m starin at you. But I got a good excuse.” They’re close but he makes the effort to lean over so he’s talking right by Gene’s ear, chin on his shoulder. “I can watch a movie anytime. When do I get a hundred minutes to sit just lookin at you?”

[chillipowder]

@bonnmot

They’ve been sitting in this car for like five hours at this point and at the ten minute mark it stopped being a fun trip out with Cool Mike and started being the worst mid-afternoon ever with Scary Mike. Jesse brought his iPod but no headphones, so all he can do is stare at it, scroll through his library with the wheel. He glances at Mike sidelong, looks away again, nods contemplatively as he squints out the window. Sighs through his nose. Blows a gentle raspberry. Shifts in his seat, which creaks. Winces. Swallows. Summons the guts.

     “So, like – I Spy?”

[burdeners-blog]

@bonnmot

     “Hi.” She’s poked her head around the door to Kim’s office and managed to keep her face remarkably un-winced for someone who’s about to ask her boss the stupidest thing in the history of stupid things. “Um, okay, so. I have a - request? And I wouldn’t bother you with it unless it was super important, obviously.”

[rekant-a]

@bonnmot

          ‘ Hey, hey, when I said I’d come back to your place, I didn’t think it was so your wife could eat me. ’

[shatterdom]

@bonnmot (hudson)

     “So.” Marion leans forward, expression pinched somewhere between interested and distant. “Help me to help you. What kind of pilot do you want to be?”