So I got home from my ride on the 5. My crazy escape. I ate a burger, drank some tequila and went to bed. Around 4AM, there's a commotion outside my door. It is bimbos. It is a bimbo commotion, a bim-botion.
"Like, OMIGAWD, this is...oh such a cute dawg, omigawd, the dawg, its so ceee-ute, this dawg, omigawd. Like, Court, commere, this dawg is sooooooooo ceee-ute!"
Clearly Maxie is in the mix, prancing about and looking cute for scratches and affection.
"Like, ooohh, like, you're sooooo ceee-ute, with your fuzzy face. Omigawd, I wanna eat you up!"
I knew the bimbotion wasn't the roommate's doing. The roommate never brings girls home. The roommate might not even be straight, I'm not certain. He's super hot, thin and neat and he doesn't seem to have sex with anyone. It wasn't the roommate.
"Omigawd, omigawd, you're sooooo fuckin' ceee-ute." It was stupid. It wasn't even English. It had to be a Tucker hookup.
The Tucker ones...oh boy, they come in droves. Droves! There is a religion popular among bimbos and it pilgrammages to Tucker's dick. There are so many. They wear preposterously tiny clothes. I can see their Sometimes, their pussy lips hang from their clothing. They smell like the main floor of the Macy's, and maybe some liquor, and a certain bacterial mustiness. Not whorehouse stench. Classy stench. They say "omigawd" and "ceee-ute" and when I've just gone crazy on the 5, I want to fight them. Ordinarily I find them kind of funny, but when I've gone crazy on the 5, I'm not enamored.
When I've just gone crazy on the 5, I work out combinations I could use on them involving elbows to their faces. I imagine a good liver punch. I foam at the mouth to use it on them.
"Omigawd, omigawd, omigawd!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP !" I yell from my bedroom.
So, all the girls save one--Court, the virtuous one I guess--went to Tucker's bedroom. There were faint sounds of laughter filtering in, but I soon fell asleep. Blissfully. Then Tucker burst into my bedroom, threw on the lightswitch and then ripped a blanket off me. This was unwelcome. I am of fragile structure and thus require a four blanket minimum coverup during the month of January. One of my blankets went to Court, the "virtuous one." I was not happy, and colder as a result, but I still had three blankets, so whatever.
Twenty minutes or so later, I heard yelling outside my door. Something like:
Whore1 : I can't believe you're doing this. Why are you doing this?
Tucker: You're the one who wants to play games.
Whore: What games?
Tucker: You're the one who wants to be a fucking bitch. If you want to be a fucking bitch and pull this shit with me, then you can go. You're not welcome here.
Whore1: What about Court? [the virtuous one]
Tucker: What about her? She's welcome to stay if she wants.
Whore2: Court! Wake up, we're going.
Virtuous Court: Huh? I'm really drunk, Christy. I'm not going anywhere.
I can't blame the Court girl. I wouldn't want to move either. I assume that her friends have been passive aggressive bitches, which most Los Angeles women between the ages of 19 and 100 are. Passive aggressive bitches remind Tucker of his mother, and that's not a good thing. I like his mom quite a bit, but that being said, I wasn't raised by her and I've spent a mere twenty hours under her passive aggressive and super fun thumb, hours which I totally loved. I imagine it would get old, though, and sporting passive aggressiveness is a good way to get kicked out of any Tucker function, sphere or homestead.
[At this point, Murphy nervous shits on the carpeting. She's never done that before, but her daddy's never kicked four women out of the house at such an hour. To her credit].
There is another bimbotion commotion. The two that fucked Tucker go out onto the porch and start calling people and crying histrionically. I know this, because I am fully awake. I see them through the window in the door. They are preposterously blonde. They always are.
The evicted are screaming, half laughing, embarrassed and wild. They don't understand what happened. I think they have been fucking stupid college guys. Passive aggressiveness is so sexy to stupid college guys. Why isn't Tucker eating this up? Whoa. They are screaming. They are tearing their hair out. What is happening? Omigawd, was that a gunshot? Are we seriously south of Wilshire? We'll be ripped to pieces by the brown people!
The evicted [to their cell phones]: Omigawd! Can you come get us? Fuck you! Omigawd, can you come pick us up? Go to hell!
You know, the non-crazy me [the usual, 24/7 me--not the crazy on the 5 me] would have chauffeured them wherever they needed to go and listened to all their family problems on the way, but the crazy me wanted to front kick their diseased cunts off the front porch. Why isn't the crazy me around more often? I think she would be a more effective me.
Me: Tucker, what the fuck is going on out there?
Tucker: They got manipulative, Bunny.
Me: I know you don't like that, but we're trying to sleep.
Tucker: If you wanna be a bitch, you can be a bitch. In the street.
Me. I know, honey. I understand.
They cry into the window some more like manic fraggles. They seem truly lost. Tucker hates them. They have nowhere to go, and all I want to do is bash their faces in. I am close to making this happen for myself.
Me: Maybe you can drive them to their cars, Rilla?
Tucker: Maybe.
I do some dishes. Tucker drives them back to their cars. The virtuous one hangs in the kitchen while I do the dishes and speaks poorly of her friends. I can't help but agree with her assessment. I do wonder why she wouldn't go with them. She was supposedly so drunk. She was too drunk to get up and go. Why did she strand them on the porch? Why did she stay on the couch if she's now up and hyper and wanting to talk with me. For fuck's sake, why is she so hyper now?
Tucker comes home, and the virtuous one--the one who left her friends in the fog at four am on the front porch--jumps into bed with Tucker.
What a whore.
I think many things. But mostly I think, why am I am hitting myself in the head, thinking I'm shit? If my gender sucks this much, I'm in the 98th percentile of awesomeness. Too bad I'm not blonde and passive aggressive.
Posted by The Bunny at 2:44 AM