i went to the bike store to buy a bike and all i got was a chain that broke and then i woke from my dream and realized it was my dad's car and i was speeding down the interstate from ohio to michigan and the sky was that kind of gray-pink hue that looks how puke would look if it were beautiful. i ate a few clementines and walked around a graveyard which sat across from a high school football stadium and then i yawned and fell asleep by the grave of a guy who served in the spanish-american war.

bill clinton was president when i first realized how babies were made. i shoved my penis against the bed and tried to make an inanimate baby. i wanted to make a friend to cuddle with. my mom took me to church the next morning and i ate doughnuts in sunday school. i prayed to god for guidance with my erections and fantasies. that was around the time that i stopped beliieving in santa claus, or even the spirit of santa claus, although i guess santa claus is okay.

i stared smoking cigartettes because i wanted to look cool and get fucked up in a very minimal way. i stopped smoking cigarettes because some things never end. when my great-grandfather was 29 he rode broncos and when turned 30 he was in africa killing beasts that got in his way as he walked along dirty muddy paths. he smoked dutch tobacco. sometimes he rolled it into cigarettes and sometimes he put it in a pipe.

the second time i awoke from my dream there were loud drums playing futuristic primitive beats in a big grassy field. everyone was taking their science text books and throwing them in a large fire. i watched with great interest and had sporadic spontaneous grins slash across my face. it is a disgrace the apathy and disregard we have for ourselves and all those who attempt to preach to us. as for me, i say "fuck the preacher" and "fuck the teacher", but i am using the word "fuck" in a very ambiguous sense. you must have sexual relations with them in some way even if it is only in your own person. but you also have to kill them, so i leave the big decisions up to you.

one should either learn to lock their door or close their unlocked door or lose their love for the possessions that own their life.

Drake could hear his mother and her boyfriend Ted having sex in the adjacent room. Her loud and excited gasps carried through the wall into his room. During these times he usually would put on his headphones and listen to music. But tonight he felt too lazy to walk across the room and pick up the ear plugs off the floor. He lit a cigarette and hit the "delete" button on his computer. The screen saver disappeared to reveal The Sound of Music paused in the middle of dance scene. He had been watching it an hour before but now he could not remember what in the hell had made him want to watch that stupid movie. He stared at the still picture of Julie Andrews dancing some douchebag for a several minutes until the screen saver returned and then he lit a cigarette.

It was ten past eleven. He rubbed his eyes and put his hand down his pants to scratch his balls. He got up and left his room. In the hallway the sounds of his mother fucking were much more coherent. He walked down the stairs and out the front door and got into his car. He drove around the neighborhood for about a half-hour until he came upon an open bar and grille. He went in and sat down at the bar and ordered a half-pound cheese burger, cheese fries, and a jack and coke.

"Do you always eat that much?" asked the waitress, "Because you are a skinny kid."

"Uber-fast metabolism," said Drake. This made her laugh.

Drake forced a slight laugh and stared at the two television screens above him to his left. He could sense the waitress waiting for more of a response from him but he had already decided to passively resist interaction with her and so after twenty or thirty seconds she walked away. On one of the televisions there was a football game and on the other one there was a James Bond movie with Pierce Brosnon. He didn't remember any of the Bond movies with Brosnon but he had played the video game for each movie hundreds of times. He couldn't remember though because he was too disinterested.

A fairly-good looking brown-haired woman sat down in a seat near him. He smiled. She made a slight upward movement with both her lips and eyebrows. Drake looked away and then looked back.

"Have we met?" Drake asked.

"No," she said. He had figured they had not met but was not sure. Regardless, he figured it was a good indirect way to ask her her name.

"Oh, sorry," he said.

"Oh, it's okay," she said,"My name's Margo."

"I'm Drake. Nice shoes, by the way."

"Thanks," she said.

He nodded his head for no reason and then took a long sip from his drink. He yawned and noticed a wave of exhaustion come over him but at the same time he felt as if he were wired on uppers or something. He wondered why he wasn't in college. He finished his drink and order a beer. He leaned on his elbow and stared at the television and then the woman named Margo said something to the bartender about a trunk in her house that she couldn't move. He slid his eyes from the television and stared at her for a second.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I was saying how I need someone to help me move a big trunk that used to belong to my grandmother."

"Oh? Where do you live?"

"Well, I live a little down the street about a mile or so," she said.

"Oh, well I was gonna head home after I finish these fries and this drink," said Drake, "But if you need help moving it I can stop at your place on my way and move it."

"Really? Thanks, that'd be great, I guess."

Drake finished his drink and fries and paid his bill. He and Margo walked out of the bar and he told her he would follow her in his car. When they arrived at her house he got out of his car and put out his cigarette with his show and followed her from the driveway across the lawn up the front steps.

"So there isn't a Mr. Margo...I don't know your last name, come to think of it?" said Drake.

"No, and the name is Jamison" she said as she gave him a questioning look while slightly laughing.

"Ah, ok. That makes sense then," he said.

"Why do you ask?" she said.

She opened the front door and they walked in. She closed the door and he noticed that she was standing close to him in the dark.

"Oh, just the moving your trunk..." He mumbled.

He noticed she hadn't moved in the past minute or so, not even to turn on a lightswitch. He put his arm around her waist and she placed her arm on his back and he felt his dick move. They began kissing and taking their clothes off and then they moved onto a couch. They fucked a couple times and then they laid on the couch and stared at the pitch dark ceiling. Then she led him upstairs and they fell asleep on her bed.

In the morning when he awoke he noticed a large trunk lying in the corner of the room. He shook her to wake her up.

"Is that the trunk?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said.

He got up and walked over to it and she did the same. They carried it downstairs and placed in a corner of the living room. He put on his shoes, kissed her on the cheek, and walked out the door and into his car. Driving home, he began thinking of excuses to tell his mother about where he had been that night.