So had he, to be wholly honest. He gives Pickles a melty smile and grabs his hands, because he needs to touch SOME part of him, if only for a few moments.
"I was afraid I'd hurt you if I did that. God I wish I could just hold you and make it not be so bad. Come on, babe, you can put your head in my lap 'til the food comes, okay?"
Pickles nodded. "Alright, just.. nnngh. I hate this shit." He padded slowly to the leather couch and flopped down. "Yeah, there's this thing called Cable, now, and you get 400 channels of nothin' but crap, instead of four. Same shit, just more of it."
He shook his head. "And they don't even play music videos on MTV no more. All it is is Road Rules and effin' Unplugged shit. They actually want me to go on there and do some of that. Ain't too bad of an idea but who wants to hear Water Horsey Blues acoustic? Nnngh."
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"I was afraid I'd hurt you if I did that. God I wish I could just hold you and make it not be so bad. Come on, babe, you can put your head in my lap 'til the food comes, okay?"
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He shook his head. "And they don't even play music videos on MTV no more. All it is is Road Rules and effin' Unplugged shit. They actually want me to go on there and do some of that. Ain't too bad of an idea but who wants to hear Water Horsey Blues acoustic? Nnngh."
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He flops onto the couch and gently touches Pickles' hair.
"Lay down, love. If it doesn't hurt too bad maybe I can see about putting some little braids in this mess."
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"Yeah, 'kay. I would like that, Cheevy." He was trying his damnedest not to talk too much, because everything he said sounded like an insult.
He just zoned out, watching the latest Unplugged.
"Ugh. Bjork. She's crazy. Like, batshit." He informed Miniver. "Seriously, she's from Iceland. Craziest broad in history."
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"Damn, man, she ain't even hippie crazy, she's fuckin' Star Trek on bad drugs crazy."
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