Can O'Worms
Saturday, April 29, 2006
I forgot to mention that right after I found out about Dumaguete, John called. Now, John is someone I never wished to hear from again, not only because he was a complete fucktard to me (for one, he humiliated me on purpose in the presence of 300 people without my even knowing it) but because his idea of reconciliation was calling me up, starting the "conversation" by saying, "Let's open a can of worms, shall we?" and then talking on and on and on and on about his accomplishments and the latest Scandinavian death metal opera blah blah blahbiddy blah without letting me get a single word in. He's a charmer, that one. Fortunately, I was able to stop another scintillating monologue from happening this morning, but he did say he was going to call later. Good thing I'm on dial-up.
The John thing isn't much, really. I mean, I can put the phone down, if ever. It's just that the timing fascinated me. It's like I'm sitting here, and The Big Kahuna's poking me with a stick and giggling. If all these events were predestined, then he sure has a funny masterplan for me. Side-splitting, baby.
posted by marguerite @ 10:33 PM
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