one thing they dont tell you in catholic school

is that if you allow girls to sleep over, you’ll never get any sleep

like most men, at a certain time of the evening, i pass out. not just that but i sleep like a rock.

maybe it was living in isla vista for four years, maybe it was my time in the xbi, maybe its my unflinching belief in Jesus; but for some reason if i hear a bump in the night or a creek in the belfry or a sound in the garage, im gonna let it be.

women however are not so trusting. at least the ones who find themselves in my tiny part of hollywood. not only do they stir and alert me if something sounds amiss, but they wont go back to sleep even if i investigate the situation.

last night i thought it would be simpler if i took out my hand gun and shot at the noise by the poolhouse until the only commotion remain were the barking dogs who were complaining that now their sleep was disturbed.

as i crawled back into bed she sat there wide eyed with a huge list of questions and then followup questions.

but i fixed the problem baby.

but what was it?

whatever it was its gone now, sweetness. gone to a better place. gone to maybe a worse place but gone. gone with the wind.

but dont you want to call the police or an ambulance or i dont know, poke it with a stick?

only one thing i wanna poke with a stick my love i said and its not the weather girl on kcal with the tight sweaters.

but the soft moans of death filling out its paperwork creeped over the bubbling of the hot tub and ruined any chance at romance

and next time im just gonna let the boogey man make his bumps in the night so i can continue to count sheep.