this imploding heart

Monday, October 07, 2002

Monday, October 07, 2002

It's the year to be hated

It happened like this.

I was in bed trying to finish the book I had suspected would be terrible, but was hoping would do something to convince me otherwise when I heard them.

"Faauuuuckkkkkk Maaan! Fauuuucckkkk!"

It's 1:30am. The parking lot under my first floor window is rented out to doctors and is frequently patrolled for unauthorized vehicles these days. It's unlikely that a late working MD is making this kind of noise. There is a huge car door slam and again with the...

"Faaauuuuaaauuuuaaaauuuuuuuucckkk!"

I pop out of bed and peek through the window. The fauck guy is blonde, short, greasy and pissed. He's beating the shit out of the cutlass cierra they arrived in. A guy I've decided to call Champ is trying to calm him down.

Guy number 3 is the most interesting. He's most certainly wearing a little leather skirt that's short enough to expose the bottoms of his ass cheeks, but he's not really in drag. He has long man hair and Mister T arms. Big Fucking Huge Arms. He's wearing a leather vest, unbuttoned with no shirt and he has something of a beer gut. He makes a grunting sound at random but doesnt say much else. Once Fauck stops beating up the car, they all retreat on foot onto the stairwell that leads between Terry Ave and lower Howell.

Things of this nature happen on a semi regular basis in my neighborhood. No big deal, but for some reason, these guys scared the living fuck out of me. I had run upstairs while Fauck was still beating up the Cutlass and tapped on my manager's door but there was no answer. I decided I was over-reacting and went back to bed.

Two hours later, I'm finishing up my uber disappointing book when I hear someone muttering in spanish in the parking lot. I turned out my light and moved to the window. It was Mister T, and he was saying 'Grando!' over and over again. I tried to peek through the curtains without being spotted by my leather skirted companion as he pulled a duffle bag out of the Cutlass and sat it on the trunk.

"Grando! Grando!" He unzipped the bag and pulled out:

The Biggest, Blackest, Rubber Cock I've Ever Seen In My Life.

Huge. Perhaps you are saying to yourself, 'Come on, Sonya. It was the middle of the night. It was dark. You were hallucinating.' and I will say to you, No. Remember how the lights never fucking go off in that parking lot, creating in my apartment a constant state of brightness? Mm Hm. Big Giant Black Rubber Cock. The thing was bigger around than my freaking forearm and just about as long. Tip of first finger to Elbow. It had some kind of loop on the end of it, so I wouldn't be suprised if it comes with some sort of tripod support system. Mister T picked it up like a rifle. I could see the skin ripples they put on them to make them more realistic, this was getting really fucking weird.

"Grando! Ha Ha! Grando!"

Mister T and Grando retreated to the stairwell and out of sight, ass cheeks bouncing all the way. Again, I don't know why, but this scared the hell out of me. I figure there's really nothing going on though, so I take down the plate numbers for good measure and go to bed.

6:30am. My first alarm has just gone off and I'm drifting back to sleep when I hear in the distance,

"Grando! Mucho Mucho Grando! HaHa!"

I roll out of bed yet again and look out the window. It's Mister T and his amazingly terrifying buddy Grando. He started up the Cutlass and drove off. I don't know what happened to the other guys.

the end.

Posted by Sonya at October 10, 2002 11:25 AM