A big part of the Craigslist game is hosting and traveling. If someone cannot host, it either means that they have a husband or wife (or boyfriend/girlfriend), that they have roommates, or that they still live with their parents.
I was watching a popular reality show marathon when I spotted a guy who caught my attention. A booming laugh made my head fin, and I thought, “He seems fun. God, that laugh. And he has hair like Morrissey.”
You know how you write something and edit it and edit it and edit it and you think it sounds great and really sings and sounds smart and poetic? Well, it most likely isn’t as good as what Lish does when he’s just talking and winging it.
I kissed and whiskered the ass of a priest one night. The priest was an old man, a barrel, and he was of the catholic faith. We were leaving a restaurant at the same time and met at the door. After a drink at the bar across the street, we wound up in his bed in the rectory of his church. He said, “Pull the covers up over us so God can’t see.”
Then he grew a little white. But Dan was already really white so he turned more of a grayish-green color like pale people (gross) always do. His hue was quickly waning. Dan had long black stringy hair and a gigantic mouth that was always smiling and laughing but it also took up most of his face because it was so big. You know those people whose faces are all mouth.
He tried to push me back and off of him when I was getting ready to come but I leaned into him instead, collapsing his knees, spraying his guts. I felt like he deserved it for being so careless. I had nothing anyway. He was safe. I fell off to his side and he jumped out of bed in a huff and ran to the bathroom. I remember thinking, “I’ve done nothing wrong” as I drifted off to sleep.
There is no painkiller man can make that can kill this pain. Isn’t that unimaginable? They have to put me unconscious when the headache gets too bad and I go to the emergency room. They got a drip of Goodnight! waiting for me, my goddamn name on it.