So I alone. folding clothes. Stupid Gap store.

So I alone. folding clothes. Stupid Gap store. Clear the register. Then I do something that I wanted to do for a loooooong, time, I kiss the mannequin in the chinos

pants that stands in the back of the store. I try to pretend his lips are getting warm and alive, but in reality they stay hard and cold. I stroke his plastic hair, secretely hopin

g his cold, formed hand would sooth over and become an instrument of comfort and happiness. But it never does and ultimately it becomes what it really is: a cry for help in the de

-ntist office during an extraction of my #2 molar. Soothing thoughts crossed my mind for about a half a second. Then they turned evil as I pondered

my dumbass, lousy, shit-eating, rancid pot-smoking adulterous whore douchebag of a fucking retarded bong-blowing bastard of an ex. My thoughts turned gleeful over his many demises.

I couldn't help but smile blissfully as he soundly slept, freshly Naired and hog-tied in the bay window window-sill. Was the lipstick too much? Let's let the neighbors decide

. There was a rap at the door. "Hi, I'm Alan from number 42. The naked man tied up in your window, the lipstick does't suit his complexion, he needs fuchsia. I'll shoot yo

u if you don't do something about it immediately." I have crazy neighbors, really I do. Alan forced me to crawl out my window with my Dior "Ara Red" lipstick to the naked man. "Put

those things aside" Alan said calmly. "Explain to me why there is Dior 'Ara Red' lipstick on your ass cheeks." I had no idea I was showing my behind, so I quickly pulled up my