An honest evening and a few words for Trisha Uptown

Just had dinner with Lexi Bardot and Brett Brando. Delish. Scrumpt. yumyumyum. A little bit perved off a glass or two of merlot, with some super fatty alfredo chicken delight and who walks in but Mr. X. Now I didn’t even notice him walking up, and Brando says (as he often jokingly says) “Here comes your x boyfriend”. I laughed, but looked, and who’s walking in but Mr. X. Fitted up as usual. I gotta say the guy has great taste. Even if all his shit is free, he still only rocks the tightest of the tightest. Head to toe. That’s why I always liked him.

It’s interesting to be in plain view of someone you used to care deeply for, but not actually be close enough to touch finger tips. Not even close enough to hear the conversations. Just close enough to see the gestures, the body language. And to remember it for when you could brush legs, or play “oops, I thought that was the table heheh,” silly i wanna rub my feet all over you games. Very interesting. I don’t know what to say about the whole situation because I really didn’t watch that much. Admittedly, he got at least 5 glances, but it was more fun not looking than looking. Funny how things end right?

Well, after things ended between me and Mr. X, I had a ton of hard feelings toward him. So much so in fact, that at one point I may have blogged about it. I always try and hold back when talking shit because once you write something you can’t take it back. There is no erasing the written word, especially now with our means of communication. Besides, if I’m gonna say shit, I usually say it to his/her face. But this one just kind of hurt a little bit too much for me to deal with it head on. Strange. Think that’s the first time I’ve ever said that out loud.

Anyway, Mr. X walked in and was on a date and I’m glad. I’m glad I got to see him with another chick, having a nice time, and I hope that me there having a nice time didn’t interfere with him having a nice time. I mean, we really ended on shitty terms, and motherfucker, I’m still pissed, but I understand. In all honesty, its about time my feelings got hurt, about time someone played me. And I wasn’t good to him in the end of us being good either. So really, even stevens.

Aside from Mr. X, and running into all sorts of X’s and getting a text from an x saying “how much he missed our marathons,” I have been working on a different approach engaging the people I choose to be reoccurring players. Full and total honesty. Delicately brutal. Sincerely devastating. savagely couth. I think there may be no better way to live than expressing ideas and feelings experienced in the most fundamentally basic and honest way possible. As human beings, our gut instinct is the driving force, the motivator behind who we fall for, whether we turn right or left, or both go to some Italian restaurant. The problem begins when we ignore what we know is right in our guts, in our hearts. Period.

Anyway, I’m home now, and I’m faded, and I hope for his sake he’s getting some bomb little pussy because he deserves it, and like Murs, Mr. X is really one of the hardest working men in the industry, and I’ve long looked up to him. I hope that he finds a dope little chick that’s into hip-hop, and is shy and sweet and down like he is. There is my honesty for the evening. He is a good man, and a nice guy.

two glasses and a bowl to the face make for honest evenings.

(from the trisha uptown thread by yours truly)

A light breaks o’er you lil behind sun shine

We still clubbin so there is yet some time

Clean up our mess, our juice some pussy slime

From V.I.P, the party went just fine

How sweet UpTown’s booty looks from behind

To taste her sweat, her mouth and pull her hair

Sometimes I feel my life just is not fair

In daylight, nightlight, I may have to tear

A part that cunt, no nothing will compare

To sweet young Trish from soft Kentucky air)


~ by Penny Flame on July 28, 2008.

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