we used to rollerskate a lot. from what i remember we rollerskated at least once a night during the week and also on friday nights and if we were really sick about it saturday nights too.

one particular cheerleader was cute, had great hair, but she was really shy. even back then i knew that she was probably getting her ass beat at home from her old man or something along those lines and it made me sad cuz she was a sweet girl and i had a full on raging crush on her. it was her who first got me interested in cheerleaders, and crimefighting. fyi.

because i was too scared to approach her as anything other than a friend friend, i set her up with one of my buddies who was kind of a burnout and not all that good with the ladies. well they got together and totally hit it off and instantly became boyfriend and girlfriend.

my friend who we will call Jeff morphed into a high school stud nearly over night, as can happen when youre 14-15 and finally getting some tail on the regular. cheerleader tail automatically makes you cooler on paper, but grateful constant willing and vengeful cheerleader tail can make you grow a foot in height and a mile in priceless reputation.

“Jeff” started to feather his hair, listen to zeppelin, and chainsmoke and before that next year was over he was in the top ten of cool dudes in my school.

fortunately he didnt forget me and what i had done for him, and fortunately she didnt forget what id done for her either and one day we were all rollerskating and it was a couples only skate and she asked me if i wanted to skate.

i saw Jeff playing defender so i took her up on her offer and we first held hands and then i skated backwards when she asked me if i knew how, and she put her hands on my hips. that move, at that age, people, in our town, was a big deal. fortunately the lights were low, lionel richie was being played on the turntable, and the mirrorball was spraying little droplets of light everywhere, so not many people could see us.

thanks for being such a great friend, she told me.

no problem i said.

jeff is the best guy, she told me.

i wanted to ask her if they were having sex, but courage was never my strong suit in highschool. it still haunts me.

we just skated around, and when the song ended we rolled over to the wall and she kissed me on the cheek.

best kiss on the cheek i ever had.

until the other night.

halfway there + lauren + a shot in the arm

bum in the back of the bus today looking like a black george bush, bald, im even jealous of him cuz he gets to take the 21 down to santa monica beach this morning and i dont. and just as i thought that he walks up to the front of the bus, a good twenty minutes into the ride and asks for a transfer and he gets one.

you’re not supposed to get a transfer like that. you can only get one right when you pay your fare. he pulled up his pants a little and hopped back to the back of the bus with me and the drunken mexican cuz he knew his good luck.

i was jealous of the drunken mexican this morning too. one because he was drunk and i couldnt be. two because he got to ride the 21 down to santa monica beach today and i had to come in to work. c because he got to crack open a can of beer as the bus was putting on the air brakes and everyone must have heard that thing opening but nobody knew it was a beer since it was cleverly disguised with a little brown paper bag. i didn’t look at him out of jealousy until i almost got to my stop and then i noticed that he had todays new york post. how does he get todays new york post! that shit cost a buck out here.

im jealous of anyone who has a date this weekend. im jealous of everyone in corvettes. im jealous of everyone who actually gets respected in their chosen professions. im jealous of anyone who has a viable career.

im jealous of the guy who pawed my true love last night. a guy who doesn’t share any of her beliefs be them politics or rock music. its the politics that steams me up the most. even the fortune teller told her that this wasnt the man for her but she doesn’t care. none of you girls care. only girls who want me are the ones who know im the wrong man for them and they keep on paying attention to me even though the sign says closed.

my heart is a flower, its wilting though. they say that some flowers will bloom when theres no water. this flower gets pissed off and sometimes that coloration is beautiful but right now its just weepy and sad and chris taught me that if you prick a droopy tulip or gerber near the top of the stalk it will prop itself right back up, but this stalk knows that trick and just needs a little sip, not a prick. definitely not a prick.

tomorrow night i want to get with this girl i used to do. dont be so surprised, i want to get with every girl i used to do. even though the wind in the willows whisper to keep moving forward, little tone keeps saying lets go back. how far back. way back. and i wouldn’t mind the new ones but the new ones lie. and they keep lying. only place you can lie is in your blog, new ones. and even though the old ones lie too, theyre familiar lies that we’ve heard before. i’ll be back at a reasonable time. god i love you tony. god you’re so big. god you’re so great.

and tick tock it dont stop. even the sun isnt sure about rising this morning. even the heart isnt sure about beating tonight. met a girl yesterday who looks like that chick who played frida, but minus the unibrow and minus the ed norton boyfriend. she was telling me all this great stuff and then she told me about something that she heard in church last sunday and i asked her what church she was at and she told me and i said shit i used to go to that church all the time. but it was cold yesterday and she just had dranken an iced coffee and wanted to end our little meet and greet before i could ask her on a date this weekend.

how about a little saturday night mass, hot chick, i was about to ask her. only i would ask a girl to church on a first date. and only i would think that theres absolutely nothing wrong with going for it after ice cream and movies and drinks. and only i would get said yes to. unfortunately only i would let opportunities slip away like sand in the hourglass, these are the los angeles times.

killer mart + chris howell + izzy wizzy