We'll see how it goes from there.
[Update as of 1:15 PM on the last Friday before Christmas: By "apartment" above, I meant my apartment mate, a very defective Cantonese woman mentioned further on. The mistake was mine, but evenso the context probably made clear what I meant. At 7:43 AM, after a late night.
When I should probably not have been up yet in any case.
But I sleep lightly.]
Until a few moments ago I was pretending to be asleep. Though how anyone could sleep through that gay cheerful racket is beyond me. Her voice. And the voices of the head sheep (he's indignant, again), the one-legged monkey ("ah is so fab-u-lous!"), the control monkey ("Heeey"), and the little black kitty (who is a right bitch).
Plus coffee, frying things, and something on the telly.
She's wide awake.
I'm not.
Her boyfriend is so lucky he doesn't live here.
It takes fortitude to put up with this.
I am a very adaptable man.
Very much.
She's a very defective Cantonese woman. Because correctly programmed Cantonese women do not live grumpy white guys, OR rambunctious stuffed animals who utilize bad language. Which upsets the well-bred she-sheep, who then growls "language!" at the little
There's also a very large penguin in her room.
I am not sure about his vocabulary.
So far he seems polite.
None, not a single one, of the furry roomies like my smoking. They're very Californian in that regard. They haven't said anything, but they sneer.
Once she's gone to work, it's on, babies. Dark flake, the news of the day, and a second cup of coffee. There are no beasts in the teevee room.
Where the computers are.
Anticipation.
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1 comment:
Where is your apartment going?
And I should think correctly programmed Cantonese women don't live grumpy white guys. Or even cheerful ones.
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