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It's only semi autobiographical
Sunday, September 14, 2003
I spent last night sober in Route 66. The music was truely, truely aweful, and I mean that in it's true sense, it was so bad, it inspired awe.
But that was not the worst of it, because to be fair, after I had adjusted to the tackiness, I was able to appreciate the occasional better song that came on (Brown Eyed Girl, Don't Stop Me Now.) No, what was truely scary, was that there was this girl there. I knew her from back in school, but as always you'll have to put up with a crap fake name, and in homage to the sparkly nature of the night, and the song, Diamond it is. Although I can think of carbon compounds which would perhaps be more appropriate to her personality.
After we had the initial insults out of the way, that is, she called me a turd and took the piss out of my necklace thing, and I took offence, thinking she'd called me Ted, but we sorted that out. (I took offence because myself and Ted look nothing alike at all, and if she had us mixed up I quite frankly couldnt be arsed with her.)
Anyway, after that, she talked about nothing but sex. Nothing. I mean, for the first 5 minutes it was funny, 10 minutes I thought was quite cute. After 15 I have to admit some interest, but after 30 it was a bit of a drag. By 50, one of my mates made a spirited effort to change the subject.
"So Diamond, what do you do in your other free time?"
A pause.
"I paint."
"Realy? What do you paint pictures of?"
"Myself naked! Oh, and one time this guy was round...."
And it went on from there.
Jesus, and though at the start of the night we had made it quite clear that nothing was going to happen, she didn't half come on strong. Flashed me 3 times, was in my shirt and tried to get me out of it, talked about her 5 year plan to do damn near every sexualy postion and orgy possible, and GOD there was more!
Used to fancy the girl, but now she's put me right off.
Now I'm tired, and I'm washing my car.
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