My new friend's name is Jack....

Posted by yoink on March 31, 2008

Daniels.

Seriously, whiskey, where have you been all of my life?
The piss-smellin' likker store is STILL out of rum after more than a month, so I've been experimenting with new substances. JD appears to be the least offensive of thes. Oh, and here's an excerpt from my upcoming publication for you uncultured snobs, free for FTH members only: Did I mention I'm a published outher? oh snap Yoink is sneexy.

“You doan look good, sis. What you been doin?”
“I been busy! I applied for a job, Jimmy! Leave me alone!” She slammed the door, almost falling over on her way out. It was really too bright to be outside now, and her skin felt like it was all sunburned. She squinted her eyes and walked into the back yard to sit on a shitty chaise lounge with half the straps missing. She stared at the rhododendron, chewing the nails on her right hand while Ben watched her from the window, his face very pale and flushed. She didn’t see him.
“What’s up, man?”
“What you lookin’ at, Ben?”
“Your sister, I think she’s fingering herself out there.” Ben laughed.
Jimmy walked over to the window and looked down into the back yard. His sister was sitting on the chaise lounge, her left hand stuck down her shorts and her right hand in her mouth. Every part of her was moving, almost vibrating she was wriggling so much. “She look… itchy or some shit. Doan look like she jackin off.”
“Why’s she got her hand down her pants, man?”
“Fuck if I know. She a dumb bitch, that’s why.” Jimmy didn’t like talking about his sister. He looked around Ben’s room. Over Ben’s desk was the completed collage. He stared at the collage while Ben stared out the window.
“Why you ain’t got no tittes in this thing? I mean, you cut all the pieces outta them porno mags.”
“Huh? Oh, that. Well, I just decided that titties and cunts were boring, so I didn’t use em, man.”
Jimmy looked back at the collage. It was mostly clippings of “stories” from Juggs, sentences that Ben had found funny or odd or perverse. There were a few pictures in the collage, and those were either unidentifiable expanses of flesh or eyes.
“How’s your leg?”
“Fuck, I think she’s sleeping now, but she’s still twitching… weird.”
“You hear me, Ben?”
“Huh? Oh, my leg. It’s fine. Hurts a little, but it’s healing up. I put some stitches in it.”
“Dint you go to the doctor or some shit?”
“No, can’t afford to. Why do you think I live here?” Ben and Jimmy both laughed at that.