The unhidden hotness
Evidently the stories that I tell IRL need to be written down and/or shared. Sitting on a bevy of material and it’s not always supposed to be about my good looks. Fine. I just feel rusty lately and shy, guarded, private, thoughtful living out a Kerouac nightmare. I like the solitude and bailing on a lot of stuff, doing nothing for long periods but then I know that time will come to an end and I’ll have a stacked schedule from all things long put off. I have been running from my own life and I am not finished yet.
I will just dive in to it then.
Last night at Raymaoke I noticed a man staring at me like crazy. I sang Pretty Woman. Phenomenally. Oh and for the sake of the story I looked like this at the time.
Like an I don’t give a shithead.
I am trademarking that watch yourselves. So I can tell that I have done something honourable worthy in my bar adventure as this man cannot stop watching my every movement. I am used to being studied and acting unawares of it, I get shy but I can summon the power of the stares in the room like He-man until I start glowing. Eventually my group and everyone is all just gassed standing around at the end of the night like the best part of the night when people are really themselves, mingling.
I kind of had a Mick Jagger thing going on, with the vintage black boots too and honestly these days my giving a —- meter is at an all time low giving me that greased lightning hailey’s comet effect. In short, I break hearts like I don’t even know.
Laugh all you want haha but it’s funny how some times (and I’ve had this conversation before with other trainwreck mates of mine) that how when or if you’re a disgusting drunken mess some times you give off this irresistible party pheromone and people are like I want to get with THAT because that is getting something and I want in. Basically right? Guys are more like this than girls generally, girls just drop like drunken baby giraffes in the gutter.
I’ll just get to the point. I give’r good times Raymi some nights because life is short, it is fun and what the hell else am I going to do?
I just remember dancing and laughing and doing my thing and the next moment my ego is being so inflated I had to sit down. This guy said he is super rich and he can tell that I am a talent so then I started acting naive about my own awesome because I wanted to hear more about this shit. I hope he kept my card. I was like basically, you are right and you have no idea who you are even talking to. He was amazed and impressed to meet a person like me in a place like that. I am telling you the big fish little pond thing is my jam. But I took what he was saying as a warning. I won’t be special forever. You have to be ahead of yourself. Oh I forgot to mention how good looking he wouldn’t stop saying I was. I think talking about that welcomes super bad luck in to one’s life which is why I have bad luck, likely. But looks can be a skill. We can talk about it later though or we don’t have to. Lets pretend I never brought any of this up.
Meanwhile the next stunt I have gotten myself in to. Be careful what you wish for in blogging. I really wish I didn’t eat my face off last night, yesterday, all day. And why didn’t I get a tan either? I really love punishing myself don’t I?
I’m going to do some Raymaerobics now! And prepare. PEEEEEEACE. Tons more stories later. Blame this entire post on this chick! Thinking posts, gotcha.