He grimaced at a particularly pretty brunette in an attempt to make an ally in the sea of funky house beats and beards and plaid, but it'd turned out not only was she not alone, she was blind.
It's both sick and wrong how much I love that.
Marty leaned back, uncomfortable every way he sat, and thought, bring on the next poor bastard.
YES! This is exactly how I feel about my customers.
Marty looked a little sadly at the single Holiday card he had received so far before standing it up in the middle of his small kitchen table before flicking off the light and shuffling towards bed. Tomorrow, he might send a Christmas card back to his mother.
That broke my heart. Just . . . ow.
He brushed past, complaining loudly to Gabe about the techno-country remix horror blasting its way through his eardrums to rape his soul,
Hilarious! AND Marty got laid. Plus . . . notice how I'm not making fun of your musical choice. At least not to your face.
He'd sit quietly, picking up local newspapers abandoned with coffee spills by previous
( ... )
When he finally realized she'd been humming popular movie scores, he decided he didn't care. What he couldn't tell was if she would last longer than Dave.
ROTFLMAO!
From the sound of it, she's her own special kind of crazy. She'll do just fine.
He packed light, prepared to get the hell out of the dodge that was his hometown at a moment's notice, before reluctantly getting in his car and driving west down half-forgotten highways and back roads. He had not called his mother to say he was coming, and feeling curiously guilty, turned down the dark, winding gravel drive to a hidden, paint-chipped, old farmhouse, stopping when he saw multiple cars in front of the sagging garage and people he didn't recognize in the brightly lit kitchen.
He slowly reversed back down the dark drive, his arrival unnoticed, and headed towards the nearest motel, deciding to call his mother tomorrow.Wow
( ... )
Stop eet, you-a make-a me blush. So, summarized, it is acceptable? Because I did this instead of study.
I was all, like, "he's grown, he's realized something about himself, there's progress!"
But then he just went back to the way he was at the beginning of the ten. I think that was the most painful bit of all, this sense that, however many chances he's given, he'll waste every one of them. And he's knows that's what he's doing, but can't help himself. Sad. And believable.
That's exactly what I wanted. Marty's ridiculous, the amount of second chances he's given and how he doesn't even realize what's happening. I think, to make this all even out somehow, I'm going to incorporate some surreal elements. I'm thinking that's what it's going to take for Marty to see what's going on around him. Because, seriously, he already gets into some weird situations. But so far nothing's been explicitly bizarre.
Comments 3
It's both sick and wrong how much I love that.
Marty leaned back, uncomfortable every way he sat, and thought, bring on the next poor bastard.
YES! This is exactly how I feel about my customers.
Marty looked a little sadly at the single Holiday card he had received so far before standing it up in the middle of his small kitchen table before flicking off the light and shuffling towards bed. Tomorrow, he might send a Christmas card back to his mother.
That broke my heart. Just . . . ow.
He brushed past, complaining loudly to Gabe about the techno-country remix horror blasting its way through his eardrums to rape his soul,
Hilarious! AND Marty got laid. Plus . . . notice how I'm not making fun of your musical choice. At least not to your face.
He'd sit quietly, picking up local newspapers abandoned with coffee spills by previous ( ... )
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ROTFLMAO!
From the sound of it, she's her own special kind of crazy. She'll do just fine.
He packed light, prepared to get the hell out of the dodge that was his hometown at a moment's notice, before reluctantly getting in his car and driving west down half-forgotten highways and back roads. He had not called his mother to say he was coming, and feeling curiously guilty, turned down the dark, winding gravel drive to a hidden, paint-chipped, old farmhouse, stopping when he saw multiple cars in front of the sagging garage and people he didn't recognize in the brightly lit kitchen.
He slowly reversed back down the dark drive, his arrival unnoticed, and headed towards the nearest motel, deciding to call his mother tomorrow.Wow ( ... )
Reply
I was all, like, "he's grown, he's realized something about himself, there's progress!"
But then he just went back to the way he was at the beginning of the ten. I think that was the most painful bit of all, this sense that, however many chances he's given, he'll waste every one of them. And he's knows that's what he's doing, but can't help himself. Sad. And believable.
That's exactly what I wanted. Marty's ridiculous, the amount of second chances he's given and how he doesn't even realize what's happening. I think, to make this all even out somehow, I'm going to incorporate some surreal elements. I'm thinking that's what it's going to take for Marty to see what's going on around him. Because, seriously, he already gets into some weird situations. But so far nothing's been explicitly bizarre.
Reply
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