Okay, Dirk lied to me. What he really meant when he said "drummer" was "rhythm guitarist". Jesus. In my opinion, we need a rhythm guitarist like I need a case of rabies.
However, Dirk is all excited about the prospect, and Charlie (Chuck, Charles?) is a really nice guy. He's Christian, but doesn't try to shove it down your throat. He holds with a lot of Buddist teachings. He's got a large, extremely pretty wife (she's supposed to be doing a lingerie photoshoot tomorrow!), and a cute daughter. He's done a lot of drugs in his youth. He does really pretty paintings and drawings (there was a color drawing of an eagle on his kitchen table) for books and stuff. He wants to draw comic books.
I like him. He's dedicated, doesn't mind that Dirk and I are in a band together and dating. He wants to learn more about his instrument---in fact,he wants to become a world-class guitarist. Not necessarily a world-famous guitarist, but world-class. There's a huge difference, trust me.
Dirk's working today. He's desperate to earn enough cash to afford a place to live. I'm on a quest to find those things to roll up pennies in. I will not be denied.
I had the most horrible nightmare last night. It's becoming epidemic, I swear. I can't remember most of the dream, except that I was a foster kid, blessed (cursed) with psychic abilities. I went to this foster home where, for some reason, the foster kids kept dying. The foster parents had a daughter of her own. Very pretty, with olive skin, black curly hair, and a Carribean(sp?) cast to her face; wearing a light blue feather boa over a blue sparkle dress. Then, she reached up and pulled off her face, right up to the bottoms of her eyes. A voice-over started. "Contero. She suffered from Contero. She saw demons instead of children, was driven insane by the horror behind her eyes."
Then this weird background music kicked in. It sounded like one of the lower strings on a mandolin, being plucked at an erratic rhythm. Spooky, and tense, and it felt like it was dragging you down. The girl's face was shown to me again...all it consisted of was her hair, forehead, and a pair of bulging eyes. Nothing was left of her lower face, not even a mess of blood and her skull. Just a gaping, bloody hole. I fell down and started crying, because I knew she'd killed all those foster children because of the mental disease she suffered from. And the eerie manolin music flowed over it all, sucking away my breath.
I woke up gasping for air, and seriously considered waking up my mother, so I wouldn't suffer alone. It was, after all, 3:30 in the morning. Instead, I put in my George Carlin CD, talked to Sasha for a bit, and went to sleep with the sound of laughter in my ears.
Dirk accused the woman who gave me the cyclamens yesterday, Gloria, of being a lesbian. He's so cute when he's jealous. Damn straight he's not going to stand for me doing a lingerie photoshoot.
Say what you will in favor of those milk-for-blood sensitive guys who will let you walk all over them with nothing in return. I don't want that. I don't want a guy who won't be jealous if some other guy flirts with me. I want a guy who will fucking growl and threaten to rip out the other guy's trachea. I want a guy who openly admits he'll do something rash and potentially deadly if he cheats on me. I'm so sick of the freaks who are trying to hold psuedo-hippie values of "free love" by thinking that jealousy is so uncool.
And, of course, women's magazine's are castrating the men of today. They preach that jealousy in your boyfriend is a bad thing. He shouldn't be fucking bothered that you were making out with some guy from work when he walked up. He should be more secure about your love for him.
They teach that men are responsible for everything in bed. The girl's pleasure and their own. What about the girl taking some goddamn responsibility for her pleasure? What about the girl taking an interest in the guy's enjoyment of it? I've run across so many "Grrls" who think a guy should be honored that they've allowed him to put his "thing" inside them. Perfect sex, for them, is for the guy to caress, lick, kiss, etc, until they (the girl) is ready to move on. Then, as soon as the girl orgasms, he should go away. No thought to him reaching climax. He's already been blessed by a trip to her vagina.
This philosophy towards sex makes me ill. I want to punch all the stupid girls who believe this shit. They're growing up selfish, and they're growing up believing that guys are lesser beings. Animals that we have to mate with in order to keep the species going, good for nothing but their dicks and the ability to lift heavy things.
Oh, and lest I forget, these bitches are proud of another bitch who's completely pussywhipped a guy. It's a fucking status symbol to have some guy following you around helplessly while you treat him like shit. The new breed of women. They should all have been drowned at birth.