Stalking Charlie
Sunday, June 27
Maxie girl went to a party
not knowing it was lame and farty.
Sitting all night in the cold
Charlie's party's getting old.
Farty party smarty tarty
Fuck this dinner, screw you Charlie.
She said to me, "Maxine, you have to leave, you aren't invited. Next time I see you lurking at my doorstep I'm going to call the cops." The cops! As if standing in front of someone else's door is really all that bad. It's weird, but why does it have to be illegal. Who says it is? A bunch of sweaty fat men and women with their panties up their asses, that's who.
I went home last night disappointed. I got no action, no music, and worst of all no free food. I went home hungry. But the worst part about it is that Charlie's mom thinks I'm some freak kid with no life and no other place to go. I can only imagine the horrible gossip she's probably told Charlie already. And then she even had the nerve to call up my dad and get him in on it! I was saved the lecture yesterday because he had to rush off to his crappy job at the skating rink, and I thought I was off the hook until now. I promise, I will never be so stupid again. He told me that if he ever saw me near that house again I would receive a more terrible punishment than the devil himself could give me. And those are the words straight out of his mouth, too.
He knows I've taken a liking to our cheeky little neighbor and he knows full well of my intentions because - let's face it - it's happened before. But I mean....it's not like I do anything you know? I don't have anything else to do with my time either. He's always hogging our only TV, I get tired of my gameboy pretty damn quick, and there's nothing else to do here but roller skate and walk around outside. I'm not and outdoors kind of person, let me tell you. Plus, following someone around makes me feel like a ninja. That honestly should be my only justifiable reason for doing the lousy things I do.
Whatever. He can try to keep me from my (admittedly weird) hobby, but it will be to no effect. I'm like the unholy spawn of James Bond, Chuck Norris, and both the Spy Kids, bitch. Nothing keeps Max B. down.
For the most part.
-Max
not knowing it was lame and farty.
Sitting all night in the cold
Charlie's party's getting old.
Farty party smarty tarty
Fuck this dinner, screw you Charlie.
She said to me, "Maxine, you have to leave, you aren't invited. Next time I see you lurking at my doorstep I'm going to call the cops." The cops! As if standing in front of someone else's door is really all that bad. It's weird, but why does it have to be illegal. Who says it is? A bunch of sweaty fat men and women with their panties up their asses, that's who.
I went home last night disappointed. I got no action, no music, and worst of all no free food. I went home hungry. But the worst part about it is that Charlie's mom thinks I'm some freak kid with no life and no other place to go. I can only imagine the horrible gossip she's probably told Charlie already. And then she even had the nerve to call up my dad and get him in on it! I was saved the lecture yesterday because he had to rush off to his crappy job at the skating rink, and I thought I was off the hook until now. I promise, I will never be so stupid again. He told me that if he ever saw me near that house again I would receive a more terrible punishment than the devil himself could give me. And those are the words straight out of his mouth, too.
He knows I've taken a liking to our cheeky little neighbor and he knows full well of my intentions because - let's face it - it's happened before. But I mean....it's not like I do anything you know? I don't have anything else to do with my time either. He's always hogging our only TV, I get tired of my gameboy pretty damn quick, and there's nothing else to do here but roller skate and walk around outside. I'm not and outdoors kind of person, let me tell you. Plus, following someone around makes me feel like a ninja. That honestly should be my only justifiable reason for doing the lousy things I do.
Whatever. He can try to keep me from my (admittedly weird) hobby, but it will be to no effect. I'm like the unholy spawn of James Bond, Chuck Norris, and both the Spy Kids, bitch. Nothing keeps Max B. down.
For the most part.
-Max