Journal of Pirate Lingo*


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* not an actual journal
of pirate lingo

08.06.01 - 1:41 p.m.

She has frozen rats in her freezer. She looks fetching-- that's the exact word that pops into your head when you see her this way, "fetching"-- with a small boa constrictor wrapped around her neck. Like a delicate scarf. Not being sarcastic at all. It takes your breath away for a second.

Objectivism & chopstick-wagging at thai restaurant, sunset from a place high on the hills where you can see both bridges. Another spot where the city lights glitter and traffic going through the bay bridge makes it sparkle from the inside. Planes flying into SFO come in pairs. She knows air traffic patterns and population densities.

Playing pool, watching her move. The "turf", haha. Tattoo peeking out when she bends to shoot. Only two beers but you still feel lightheaded leaving the bar.

Her place is nice. Intense prints by an artist you've never heard of cover the walls. The snakes live in warm red aquariums that at first look like fireplaces. She tells you they won't bite; they think of you as a tree.

She has a glitchy copy of the Tele-Tubbies movie. The colors are vivid. There's a baby's head in the sun. A baby's head in the sun!! An anthropomorphic vacuum cleaner makes unsettling gestures, undue attention is lavished on toast. Everything seems to be happening in slow motion. Drugs without drugs.

Her bed is warmer than yours. She puts on Richard Buckner, Blonde Redhead, Sea and Cake. You lie awake in the darkness for a long time, with something-- fear, desire, wonder-- burning in your chest.

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