BoozeXanaxWestSideStory.
This is how you write a short story at four in the morning.
Reckless Kelly - Vancouver
Hammering out this beast, but I’ve got work in an hour. Still bored, if you feel the need to ask me questions.
Q:Why is your nipple so fascinating? I feel like you might have a mini person there, an ectopic twin perhaps (is that the correct name?) that this anon knows about and we don't. (Just in case I come across as creepy, this is meant to be amusing)
See, that’s what I don’t get. There is absolutely nothing remarkable about my nipple. One of them has a tattoo near it, but the anon specifically implied that they wanted to see the one without the tattoo. If it had been “hey, post a shirtless picture” I probably would’ve understood, because hey, there are worse guys you could see without a shirt on. But just my nipple? I don’t know, maybe the anon had some weird, intricate fetish for writers nipples.
Q:would you date another writter?
Anonymous
Well, I have before, and though hen it makes the break-up a bit harder when you can’t read writing that you appreciate, yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d date another writer.
youbeautifuldisaster replied to your post: So I’m gonna work on this short story… but it’s TMI Tuesday
“Kindly try to steer all future TMI Tuesday questions away from nipple picture requests.”
I don’t think it’s too much to ask.
So I’m gonna work on this short story… but it’s TMI Tuesday
I’ll respond to anything and everything (except for requests from strange anons for pictures of my nipple.)
Q:Has anyone actually ever sent you nudes on this thing?
Anonymous
Hah, no, no one has sent me nudes via my tumblr ask box.
Confessions.
Bourbon? Xanax?
Why choose between the two when I can just have both.
Magazine article. Just have to type it up, then wait for publishing. (Taken with instagram)
Just a quick note.
I thought I’d take the time before therapy/work to tell everyone that whenever I see someone say/tweet/write “YOLO” I want to violently beat the everloving shit out of them and chuck them out the nearest window. And I’m not a violent guy.
Err.. anyway, another day or two and there’ll be a big, long, short story for you all to read.
Dave Hause - Resolutions
The Trouble I’ve Been in Over Pretty Faces…
Sittin’ on the state line, cigarette smoke trailing out of my cracked window, my hands at ten and two. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. “Do you want to run away together,” doesn’t work out like this. But then again, you never did want to run. You were happy where you were, and happy when I was there. Now it’s all a bit of a mess, isn’t it?
I swear, I’ve been livin’ on borrowed time for a year now, and you were the only thing that came along that was ever worth writin’ home about. I ain’t much for fallin’, so when I realized you’d pulled the ground out from under me, lord was I scared. But you were there, fallin’ right along with me, and we hit the concrete runnin’. Hell, I’d have given you everything I ever stole if it meant you and me slow dancin’ ‘til the end of the world. But everybody’s got demons crawlin’ around upstairs, and you were always the kind of girl that had to fight her own battles.
Me, I’ve been doing what I know to do. I found God in labor, workin’ my hands down to the bone night after night. And when that don’t cut it, the big guy and I, we share a cigarette while I sip Jim and Jack out of jam jars. I swear to him that every bottle I kill is strictly self defense.
Funny fuckin’ thing, feelings. I can’t drink ‘em off my mind anymore than you can smoke ‘em out of yours. Hell, sometimes the booze makes me tell stories, like the time the dog took to lickin’ me while I was in the middle of takin’ you. You told me you’d never seen him get so attached to someone so quick. And then it hits me in the heart like a sock full of dead batteries. I miss the damn dog, and I miss Tennessee.
Source: justanothertrampofhearts
Too much on my mind.
Another long night. (Taken with instagram)
