Titties and Basilisks
All these things I do, they are waiting for you.
So last night I preceded to drink excessive amounts of alcohol in one of my favorite types of atmosphere. The crowd was a soft mix of kids I have very little knowledge of. The interesting thing is that they all know who I am, but not in reality. If the name “Lazer” is brought up suddenly the whole crowd knows whom is in attendance, but if I never bring up that name then nobody knows who I am. In this respect my reputation has truely preceded me. My night however has very little do with this sidenote.
Of my favorite past-times are those spent teetering the edge between pissing someone off and confusing them. I understand thats very vague so I’ll present an example
In the depths of a three A.M. food binge 2slo had found a jackpot. Both of us had no idea exactly what it is we found. In reflection I believe it was an oversized porkchop, but it could have very easily been chicken breast. Regardless it was seasoned, cold, and tasty and we began to feast immediately (Joe and I that is). Then this child hustles to us, and when I say child I mean that. The particular persona this child emits is the kind of thing that really grinds my gears. Everything about him, from his tilted hat, oversized clothing, small stature, rosy cheeks, and that unintelligent “hard” gaze that he has probably spent years mastering really just pisses me off. He literally walks up to us and begs; for ten minutes atleast. 2slo was not going to give up even a piece, and I was perfectly content with that. After several “are you seriously not going to give me a bite dude”-s later 2slo buckles and gives a peice up. I belched at the young poser and called him a vulcher. He turned his head sideways in a semi-dramatic fashion and stared at me for a couple of seconds. He asked me to repeat myself and I didnt, instead I told him “I have really fucking big ass titties” and then just stared at him. He turned around and walked away.
Those are fighting words to me. I actually dont have an issue with this man at all but I would still fight him. So I drop these awkward out of the way sentences hoping that he thinks I’m trying to belittle him, which really I am. Fuck that kid.
Another event that sticks out in my memory is another guy, apparantly named “J-brass” or something to that manner. For an accurate definition of his personality refer to the Boi Dictionary. Its in Chapter 8: Bro-ology, section 14, clause 8
generally a total fucking asshole
So the situation presents itself as follows. I was laying on the floor in Crystinas bedroom smoking pot. Alyssa (whom requires a definition all in her own) is laying on the bed drifting off into the land of dreams. J-Brass sits on the bed, shirt off with his obviously proudly sculpted body on display. I take note of the situation because of the peculiar personality of ‘lys. Alyssa hates being hit on, but she is the perfect object of affection from any male counterpart. Shes beautiful, unique, exotic, and sexy; but this is misleading. Trust me, she’d rather you not tell her. Anwyays J Brass starts to tickle her toes, and I look at her face. Irritation is seeping from her pores, but she isn’t making any type of motion. He tries to whisper to her, something along the lines of “your feet are not as pretty as your face” or something superbly lame such as that. She never really responds. Then J-Brass makes a brash move. He moves his hand up her thigh; this causes a reaction. Alyssa literally Basilisk’s(1) him. He retracts sheepishly “this isn’t cool?” She never responds and he gets up and immediately leaves the room. Next thing I know its seven thirty a.m. Joe is waking me up off of a carpet floor with no pillows or blankets.
what an interesting night
(1)A basilisk is a mythical creature that turned any unlucky onlooker into stone if they locked eyes with it. Basilisking is a term I just made up in Dr. Seuss fashion to explain the pure intensity of the stare. It could only be compared to a beast of mythical proportion.
