Coolest thing, you can get out-of-town radio stations through cable, like 105 WTUE that's usually blocked out by elevator crap unless you drive a ways south of here. Sometimes day-oh is cool to crank up during a party, gets the girls shakin' anyway. WDAO. The Soul of Dayton.
I always watch the evening news for some reason, and when I'm here I can at least catch Frank Reynolds on ABC.
So I'm once again hagnin' out with Belinda. Bell from Hell, she pretends to not like being called that. She's babysitting her cousin, uncle Bobby's infant daughter, although, I have no clue why his wife's redheaded sister Paula can't watch the baby since she practically lives here.
Bell gets bored with the news so we switch to MTV. Not sure what will ever please the girl, she gets agitated when they show Donnie Iris because he found a stone fox blond to be Leah. Evidently every Caucasian female within visual range is the enemy of her soul, and she sighs when Paula bends over near the TV to put something away, as if those pale legs and bony butt cheeks are much distraction.
Feeling around under the velvety sofa cushions yields some lint, 19 cents, a Bic lighter, and a slap from Bell who's obviously not interested in discussing it, let alone what's in my pocket.
The other day I scored a tape dub of a new group called Def Leppard. Still can't believe the first song is really about that.
Bobby's wife came home drunk one night and gave Bell a watch, only to turn around and accuse her of stealing it. Whatever the case we made an adventure out of driving by in my parents' car and tossing it into their yard, careful to remove any fingerprints, as if that mattered.
Bell is this pouty dark-featured mix of Native, Italian, and toilet cleaner. Somehow that all adds up to a bubble you never can pop, at least while remaining somewhat a gentleman. She won't let me thumb through Bobby's record stash while anyone else is here but it's probably all country shit peppered with Eagles and Steely Dan. Her dad had almost methodically cheated on her mom, Bobby's little sister, sometimes right in their home, not that her mom is any angel.
I'd been in kindergarten with Paula. She always seemed to be hiding something behind her freckles. She had some dude over here one night and he tried to give Belinda some of his milkshake while she was half asleep.
My cousin tells me they have over-the-air subscriber TV down in Cinci, they give you a descrambler box and show movies and sports, sometimes concerts, even dirty movies if you pay extra. Sometimes my folks and I go down that way for baseball games. Not sure if I'd ever want TV bad enough to pay for it.
People tell me I'm missing a lot of fun by kissing Bell's behind. Even her own mother.
I think I should get a dirt bike. Actually I'd feel more at home on a scooter but those seem kinda nerdy.
Five bucks says there's a recent Doobie Brothers LP somewhere in the house, and probably some stuff I don't wanna know about.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
nomatter what it's still an honor to be esteemed as worthy to be among the few to get past the first cut to share laughs and times to at least give her right of refusal even though you don't make the last cut for whatever reason how much richer is life for the experience because basking in her radiance for even just a while makes it ok to not concede defeat yet celebrate the journey