Sunday, August 15, 2004
 sweetest lips. youd think after a full night of kissing and not much else i'd have something else to tell you about her but thats it. sweet lips. tounge like a scared kitten. her friend liked me more than she but there i was with her trying to figure out if i was the boobie prize the real prize just another guy or the lucky end of a female cock block where the one girl doesnt want the other girl to get any so she drags me to her barbie dream house instead of letting her bestfriendevah get what she wanted.
sometimes you cant lose mr kerry and you should just stand there and nod your head and smile which is all i did at the party and these two incredibly educated frightfully skinny young rich girls tried to impress me with their knowledge of poetry not knowing that the best way to impress me is to kiss me on the balcony like the taller one did while the other one steamed.
whats a blog she asked me as we sped through west hollywood. i wondered what could be said of tall girls with boots and stick shift convertibles. the wind was so loud she couldnta heard me if i had tried, nothing important i lied while noticing the shadows on her thigh.
she didnt even ask about my place. it was hers we would visit. no soul. no grass. miami vice chic, polished, primped, and sterile. too bright. all glass.
she knew the difference between one wine and another. she had a cheese dish that showed promise but they were leftovers from her mother. bad art bad tunes bad vibe but balloons filled with nitrous she brought out from her room and we sat there in luxury and
held it
held it
and then
pfffffffffff
normally i didnt find myself with a girl like this. you wanna say dumb but shes not. you wanna say phony but she actually is being real.
 its one of the things that i like so much about hollywood, you really could be drinking with a one footed homeless man one minute and the heir to the home depot fortune the next.
when the balloons had emptied the warm side of her skirt became heir to my free hand and the oddest thing happened, i imagined the faces of mickey kaus and tim blair. mickey had recently told me that i was the only blogger that he knew of who had gotten laid from because of his blog. and blair said that he would only frequent my blog occasionally because he hated how much action i got. and i said its all lies tim its all lies and he said really and i said its mostly lies tim its mostly lies.
and there i was not only being blaise about the totally sculpted tail i was about to get but worried about how i could pull off writing about it in such a way that if those two fine gentlemen stumbled across it they would still respect me in the morning.
she was neatly shaved but sloppy. her lipstick had smeared and she wore a tiny speck of crystal meth on the tip of her cute little nose that sparkled in the candlelight.
norah jones was on and i wanted to ask her if it was on because she thought it was sexy or because it is sexy or because she thought i might think it was sexy but i was afraid our impromptu debate would ruin the mood so i bit her lip and asked her if she had any coltrane.
i could feel her want to get up as she said a love supreme but that one is too spiritual to be sexy which of course kickstarted the inconsequential debate that i was trying to avoid where she took the side that spirituality is extremely sexy and i retreated to the smile and nod tact and sipped at my rum on ice as she lit her parliment light.
hollywood has had a delightfully mild summer i said tracing the outline on her embrodiery not falling for the stalemate. she inhaled and said hasnt it been lovely. the sheer white curtains barely moved behind the opened sliding glass door and a faint cute car horn beeped in the darkness below.
we listened to the love supreme and held hands and she passed her cigarrette to me and i put my lips on it and made the tip glow and gave it back.
she had books everywhere
not dirty
sloppy
and in the morning we both woke up in all of our clothes
and she still had a little speed on the tip of her nose
tiffany + banana blog + bettie
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