Dance moves

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Swollen and disgraced you still kissed me,
then retreated behind your job.
You were easy on the eyes and my skin.
It’s a shame you are so busy, it’s probably a bigger shame that I’m not.
You don’t come around anymore.
But I’m sure if you did it would be like you never left.
I sincerely hope I’ll trap you.




I sat in bed and watched Keeley hunched over my computer. My monitor’s glow lit her face up. She was so fucking cute (although she had a slight man chin.) She was reading short stories I had written. She was fresh out of high school, so I showed her a piece I had written about an unrequited love I had in high school. It had the perfect amount of cursing and vulnerability; Vulnerability in the sense that it was honest and pretty sad but not too sappy. She had already told me to “man up” in a serious tone when I made a joke about crying. It took her about 20 minutes to read it all. We sat in silence, not awkward in the least. There was just her squinting at the text, and me eating the plate of Jose Ole mini tacos I had warmed up for us. She was wrapped in my comforter, underneath she was vagina naked. On the floor her clothes lied in a pile. She was pretty, so pretty.
I didn’t expect Keeley. We had been to a few parties together, but I was far too drunk at each of them to make a positive impression. The first time I talked to her sober was exactly one week before, and if someone had told me then that she would be in my room naked, reading my “work” at 12:17 am, I would have never believe them. She seemed innocent, even though I didn’t know her well. I guess it was her eyes. She had big, glossy eyes. And when she smiled, which she did often, she looked like a cartoon character.
I looked at her almost the entire time she was reading. I’ll admit it was a little creepy, staring at her like that.
But in a way she was staring at me. She was reading one of the most genuine pieces I had ever written. Technically she was the creep, looking into my soul through my writing. I was just looking at her butt and side boob. When she had finished reading she looked at the keyboard for a minute. She put her finger on it as if to begin typing.
“You’re a really good writer.” She said still looking down at her fingers on the keyboard.
“Thank you.” I said, pretty generically. That’s what I said every time someone told me I was good. It was hard to tell if they were being honest, or just polite.
“I wish I could write.” She said as she took her fingers off the keyboard and looked at me with those eyes. I was briefly reminded of Alissa and her piercing eyes. Both Rachel and Alissa had incredible eyes, but totally different. Alissa’s eyes were sharp and almost cutting while Keeley’s eyes were inviting and warm. I still loved Alissa’s eyes, but I could get used to Keeleys.
“You probably can, just try. It takes a lot of work, and if you aren’t in the right mindset it can be boring but if you keep at it, it’s one of the most rewarding things ever.” I told her. I really did believe she could write. She was an intelligent girl. All she needed was the patience.

“How often do you write?”
“500 hundred words a day, just like Jack London.” I lied. I was lucky to write 500 hundred words a week. I did admire Jack London for his 500 word a day ritual but I was way too lazy to mimic it.
“Really?” Keeley said sounding impressed.
“Yeah, it’s hard but worth it.” I felt like a bastard lying to her. But it wasn’t really lying, it was just realistic exaggeration.
“Wow, I should write 500 words a day.” She said as she got out of the seat and shuffled to bed with me. We lied there together. I had gotten drunk and thrown up all over one of my pillows so now I only had one that we shared where our faces were incredibly close, but I don’t think she cared and I certainly didn’t mind being close to those gorgeous brown eyes.
“I wish I could break dance.” I said, half joking.
Keeley was a dance major. Before I gave her my stories she showed me a video on her Myspace of her dancing. I’m a terrible dancer, thus a terrible judge of dancing, so I couldn’t tell if she was good or not. But I did know she loved it, and her ass looked great in tights and that was good enough for me.
“I could teach you.”
“Ha, for sure.” I said before I kissed her on the forehead and put my arms around her. “Sorry I don’t have another pillow, the other one was a fucking mess. I had to dump it.”
“What happened to it?” She asked. I paused for a minute, I could tell her the truth, the rather vile story of the night John and I went half on a gallon of some shit off brand rum, but I concluded that the idea of me helplessly puking into the very bed we were lying in might put a damper on the mood of the night.
“Spilled Pepsi all over it, I’m a klutz.” Crisis averted.
“Damn, that sucks.”
“Indeed.”
Neither of us said anything for about two minutes, barely even moved. I kissed her after awhile.
“Did you play any sports in high school?”
“Yeah, actually I wrestled sophomore through senior year.” I told her.
“Really?’ she said sitting up a little and looking at me before continuing “You, a wrestler? In a weird way I can see that.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty terrible at most sports. My mom, she used to send me and my cousins to this sports camp. I went there for like, four summers. Didn’t get any better at anything, besides shit talking and faking injuries.”
“Hahaha. What made you want to wrestle?”
“I’m an only child and haha, I’ve always got a lot of stored energy and aggression and shit. You know, from not having a little brother’s ass to beat or something. Not that I’m violent or anything, I just enjoy putting people in headlocks every now and again. Is that so wrong?”
Now that I think about it maybe I was a little violent. To this day I still attack cousins and close friends. At every family gathering I look forward to throwing my little cousins over couches and into laundry baskets and my assaults on friends my age are rather hostile and elaborate. This past summer I was approached by three mall cops and almost banned from the premises after a play fight I had initiated in a clothing store. Just last month I choked Justin with my dogs rope toy thing.
“Yeah, ok psycho.”
“Ahhh bite me, Did you play any sports?”
“No not really..” She continued on about how she was in a collection of plays and performances in high school. She had showed me pictures of her in high school through her face book. In my old school the dancers were the popular girls, cheerleaders, prom queens and other assorted pretty faces. This was not the case at her school, the dance team she showed me in the pictures looked more like the chess team. Maybe the chess team paints to nerdy of a picture, more like the environmental club. They posed. They laughed. They got caught off guard. All with an air of adolescent awkwardness
There was another silence. I could here the T.V through the walls. It was “The Cable Guy.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked her as I looked at the ceiling.
“Yeah, a little but I never turn down food. What do you have?”
“Oh, you’ll see. I’m going to make us the most romantic meal ever.”
“Oh, wow. I can’t wait.” She said smiling at me.
I put my pants on and walked into the living room. Not three steps out of my room I see Keeley’s friend Jasmine’s head jerk up. She was sitting on the couch with Freddy who was now scrabbling to fasten his pants. I had just walked in on oral sex. I made eye contact with both of them. There was no need to pretend like I didn’t see it. The room reeked of lust and penis. Freddy wore a tank top and sweat a lot. The living room couch was drenched in his sweat; back sweat and ball sweat. I was smirking, they were giggling.
“Well alright.” I coughed out and headed to the refrigerator. I had no idea what was in it, I barely shopped and I was sure that the items I bought were either eaten or rotten. I opened the freezer; ice cream, steak, French fries, more ice cream, mini tacos, mini corn dogs and three frozen pizzas. The only thing that belonged to me was the box of mini corn dogs and it was half empty. Before moving in my mom prepped me on how to deal with the house food thief. The thief was me now. I had been eating Randy’s mini tacos and Kyle’s hot pockets for the better part of a week. Not to mention I drank the shit out of every soda Valens had ever purchased. I decided to cook us my corn dogs, didn’t want to spoil the night with thievery.
As I watched the corn dogs heat in the microwave and too tired to avoid looking at Freddy and Jasmine on the couch I thought about how it was only 12:48 am. The night had pretty much been a whirl wind for me. It started in Korn’s room, like most of the early nights did. I didn’t have much to drink that night, so I was slightly more composed than usual. I can’t remember a damn thing I said to her in Korn’s room. Her friends pulled me aside a few times to ask me if I liked her. I charmed them into convincing her to come to my room. In a comedy book I read there was a passage that said “When things go right, it’s a blur. It’s when you crash that you remember every detail.” Things went right that night, with Keeley. The night was a river, and I was just a floating log. Lucky drift wood.
Two minutes and the corn dogs would be ready. Jasmine charged into my room, I’d never seen my door close so fast. I looked at Freddy. He was still in high school and here he was getting mouth love from a college girl. He smiled at me; cocky little shit. Earlier that night Keeley told me she had a thing with one of the guys who lived in my building. She didn’t tell me who but she knew I knew him. Apparently he liked her way more than she liked him, but she was trying to spare his feelings and not be seen entering and exiting my room. This was the third time I had been in this situation this year, girl stealing. I never did it to disrespect anyone. In fact this time wasn’t even on purpose. Keeley had been in my room a few hours earlier then left to settle things with the mystery boy. I offered to talk to him too, but she said it would make things weird. I didn’t give a fuck about weirdness. It was the benefit of being socially challenged. I simply didn’t have time to give any fucks.
Corn dogs were done. The microwave open button got stuck pretty often. I pressed it a few times until the door finally swung open. I Jackie Chan dodged it and grabbed the plate. I knocked on my door, I knew better than to interrupt girl talk. I waited a few. The door open and Jasmine was standing there.
“Hello.” I said holding the plate in one hand and trying to keep my pants up with the other.
“I need to talk to you.” She said taking the plate from me and giving it to Keeley.
“Corn dogs are your idea of romantic?” Keeley said with her mouth already eating one.
“Try it with barbecue sauce. They are divine.” I said pointing to a bottle that was already on my desk. I wondered how the hell that even got there. I was lead by the hand by Jasmine to the bathroom.
She closed the door and I sat on the toilet.
“Having a good night, Jasmine?”
“It’s alright, what about yours?”
“Not so good. I missed Super jail, it was a new episode.” I laughed.
“Do you like Keeley?”
“Didn’t you already ask me this?”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes, a lot.”
“What do you like about her?” She sat down the sink and looked at me like I was a criminal.
“Her eyes.” I whispered.
“Huh?” Jasmine said leaning her head in. She was smiling slightly so I was too intimidated but I knew this was a relatively serious talk.
“I like her because I can actually talk to her. I feel oddly comfortable around her.” I said looking down at my pants, they were dirty. I looked up at Jasmine and she seemed pleased with my answer.
“I like her because it is easy to like her.” The words snuck out of my mouth. They echoed and then disappeared. Moments of inadvertent honesty were becoming more routine ever since I moved in. They oozed out, the truths; unapologetic truths. I didn’t know what to make of it. I had no choice but to accept them and pray I learned to internalize them.
“Good.” she said.
“Think I have a chance with her?”
“Maybe.” she laughed before saying, “You are cuter than most of the guys she talks to.”
I laughed. I saw a picture of Keeley with a guy she identified as her ex boyfriend. I thought I was cuter. But I knew it was about looks with Keeley. She was into artists, and more turned on by passion and creativity then faces and muscles.
After I finished with Jasmine I went back to my room. She was sitting on the bed talking on her phone.
“Here he is now.” Keeley said.
“Who is that?”
“It’s Ashley. I think she wants to go back to the U.C now.”
Ashley was Keeley’s room mate. Her crush on Korn was the reason I met Keeley in the first place.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah she is tired and doesn’t feel like staying with Korn tonight.”
Even though we had already had sex, I still didn’t want Keeley to go yet. Cuddling after sex was the cherry on the sundae. If she left now I couldn’t cuddle. I’d be robbed of my sex sundae, I had to do something.
“Let me see the phone.”
Keeley passed me her phone. I didn’t know what I was going to say to Ashley to convince her to stay, but I am a writer and words are my tool.
“Hey Ashley. What’s this I here about you trying to leave and take Keeley and Jasmine with you?” I cut to the chase, there was no need to play it subtle.
“Yeah Adam. I’m getting sleepy and want to lie in my OWN bed.” She said, clearly emphasizing to Korn.
“Well it’s 1 in the morning and this is Chicago. There are dangerous men out there Ashley; men that wouldn’t think twice about harassing three pretty young girls walking home this late.”
“I always carry pepper spray and the U.C is like ten minutes away.”
“Yeah, that’s what all rape victims say. Next thing they know they are tied up in an attic getting fingers put in their butt. You don’t want to be the victim of a booty pinky, do you Ashley?” the words fumbled and flipped out. Booty pinky sounded like a Trina song.
“Hahaha, whatever Adam. I’m tired so tell Keeley to met me in Korn’s room.”
“Hmmmm, that means she has to put back on all of her clothes. That might take awhile…” I looked at Keeley. She had sex hair. “And plus, you have your whole life to sleep in your own bed. You are young and who knows how long it will last. Take chances, sleep in mysterious beds, even if it is a rough night, one night is in the flash in the pan in the long run.”
There was silence on the other end and then, “Put Keeley back on the phone.”
I handed Keeley the phone. They talked for a few seconds then hung up.
“Well I’m staying but I have to leave early tomorrow.” Keeley looked up at me.
“Glad to hear it.” I kissed her and grabbed a handful of corn dogs.
We talked for a few hours. About the movie Pulp Fiction and consumerism and how it had made hip hop dance a fad. Then we went to sleep. Well, she did. I had an erection and about 20 minutes into her slumber I woke her up for sex. Then we went to sleep for real.

Rating changed to R
-Mesh




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Um, thanks for sharing? Last paragraph seems kind of TMI... maybe you should up the rating to "R". o.O. I didn't know this was about your sex life. o.O

The part at the beginning seems like a half-hearted poem. Take it out.

I know it's recounting an experience of your life, but the piece had little to no plot/point. At the end I felt cheated in a way. It never went anywhere.

I think you should change the rating, because people might be offended reading about you staring at naked girls.
Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.
-Catullus, Carmen 85




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Um...this is fictional, right? That last review was pretty worthless. But a thirteen year old girl shouldn't be reading this stuff anyway. Rate it R.

I don't like nit-picking, but I'll give you a few pointers on grammar. For instance, when you tag dialogue, it looks like this: "Hey, you're retarded," she said. OR: "Hey, you're retarded." But she said it with a smile.

You also had ALOT of sentences that were screwed up on that. And learn up on commas. You've got a lot of missing commas in this piece. For instance:

Before moving in my mom prepped me on how to deal with the house food thief.

There needs to be a comma after "in".

I Jackie Chan dodged it and grabbed the plate.

This was funny, but their needs to be a comma after "I" and another after "Chan". (There are other places where commas are needed, but I don't want to find them all.)

Besides that, your writing is pretty fresh. The characters are vivid and the dialogue is good. But you need more description. What does the apartment look like? and the MC's room? and anything else that you think the reader might want to know about.

The plot is also a little lacking. If this is the first chapter, their needs to be some sort of conflict that is introduced. Will the MC get arrested for doing underage girls? will his life explode when someone plagiarizes his amazing writing? Hopefully nothing that lame, but some sort of plot needs to exist.

If you edit this, it could be REALLY good. I honestly like the voice of the MC and you seem pretty talented.
"In case of fire, please generalize the interests of the people around you and leave behind the one's you do not wish to interact with ever again."

Get a [censored] imagination.




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Yeah, I agree with Haruno Sakura. This whole thing is like nonstop sexsexsexsexsexsex...it's kind of gross. You definitely need a rating. And, as Sakura said, this whole thing never went anywhere. So if you are going to recount a life experience, maybe it could be an actually interesting/significant/nondisgusting.
And there was one more thing that stuck out at me: you told Ashley that she shouldn't go home because she could get raped, and then you told her to sleep in mysterious beds. Odd.
Just sayin'.
'life tastes sweeter when it's wrapped in poetry'
-the wombats


critiques // nano




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Haha thank you guys for reading.
This is an except for a novel I'm writing.
The novel is a memoir of sorts about a boy and his adventures his first year away from home.
Sex and being gross are staples of teenage boys haha, at least with my friends.
My writing isn't everyone cup of tea.
And I'll be the first to admit I'm lazy with syntax and grammar, I'll do my best next time thou.


Andddddddddd
Think outside the box a little people, not everything has to be formulaic




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Haha pre-teenage girl review.

I like your writing. Its nice and...poetic in a REAL way you know? Reminds me of nick hornby quite a lot. You ever read high fidelity? Its got this amazing way of cutting down to the truth, like this piece does.


This is all autobiographical then? Like actual memoirs?

If so, i must congratulate you on the smooth talking on the phone there. That is quite some skill ^^








I've got a couple of memoir excerpts up here, not as edgy as yours, but im only 17...
Is this bass REALLY strong enough?




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Swollen and disgraced you still kissed me,

then retreated behind your job.

You were easy on the eyes and my skin.

It’s a shame you are so busy, it’s probably a bigger shame that I’m not.

You don’t come around anymore.

But I’m sure if you did it would be like you never left.

I sincerely hope I’ll trap you.





I sat in bed and watched Keeley hunched over my computer. My monitor’s glow lit her face up. She was so fucking cute (although she had a slight man chin.) She was reading short stories I had written. She was fresh out of high school, so I showed her a piece I had written about an unrequited love I had in high school. It had the perfect amount of cursing and vulnerability; Vulnerability in the sense that it was honest and pretty sad but not too sappy. She had already told me to “man up” in a serious tone when I made a joke about crying. It took her about 20 minutes to read it all. We sat in silence, not awkward in the least. There was just her squinting at the text, and me eating the plate of Jose Ole mini tacos I had warmed up for us. She was wrapped in my comforter, underneath she was vagina naked I could just be being sensitive, but that was a coarse way to put it.. On the floor her clothes liedlay in a pile. She was pretty, so pretty.

I didn’t expect Keeley. We had been to a few parties together, but I was far too drunk at each of them to make a positive impression. The first time I talked to her sober was exactly one week before, and if someone had told me then that she would be in my room naked, reading my “work” at 12:17 am, I would have never believe them. She seemed innocent, even though I didn’t know her well. I guess it was her eyes. She had big, glossy eyes. And when she smiled, which she did often, she looked like a cartoon character.

I looked at her almost the entire time she was reading. I’ll admit it was a little creepy, staring at her like that.

But in a way she was staring at me. She was reading one of the most genuine pieces I had ever written. Technically she was the creep, looking into my soul through my writing. I was just looking at her butt and side boob. When she had finished reading she looked at the keyboard for a minute. She put her finger on it as if to begin typing.

“You’re a really good writer.” She said still looking down at her fingers on the keyboard.

“Thank you.” I said, pretty generically. That’s what I said every time someone told me I was good. It was hard to tell if they were being honest, or just polite.

“I wish I could write.” She said as she took her fingers off the keyboard and looked at me with those eyes. I was briefly reminded of Alissa and her piercing eyes. Both Rachel and Alissa had incredible eyes, but totally different. Alissa’s eyes were sharp and almost cutting while Keeley’s eyes were inviting and warm. I still loved Alissa’s eyes, but I could get used to Keeleys. You made a comparison with Alissa and Rachel

“You probably can, just try. It takes a lot of work, and if you aren’t in the right mindset it can be boring but if you keep at it, it’s one of the most rewarding things ever.” I told her. I really did believe she could write. She was an intelligent girl. All she needed was the patience.


“How often do you write?”

“500 hundred words a day, just like Jack London.” I lied. I was lucky to write 500 hundred words a week. I did admire Jack London for his 500 word a day ritual but I was way too lazy to mimic it.

“Really?” Keeley said sounding impressed.

“Yeah, it’s hard but worth it.” I felt like a bastard lying to her. But it wasn’t really lying, it was just realistic exaggeration.

“Wow, I should write 500 words a day.” She said as she got out of the seat and shuffled to bed with me. We lied there together. I had gotten drunk and thrown up all over one of my pillows so now I only had one that we shared where our faces were incredibly close, but I don’t think she cared and I certainly didn’t mind being close to those gorgeous brown eyes.

“I wish I could break dance.” I said, half joking.

Keeley was a dance major. Before I gave her my stories she showed me a video on her Myspace of her dancing. I’m a terrible dancer, thus a terrible judge of dancing, so I couldn’t tell if she was good or not. But I did know she loved it, and her ass looked great in tights and that was good enough for me.

“I could teach you.”

“Ha, for sure.” I said before I kissed her on the forehead and put my arms around her. “Sorry I don’t have another pillow, the other one was a fucking mess. I had to dump it.”

“What happened to it?” She asked. I paused for a minute, I could tell her the truth, the rather vile story of the night John and I went half on a gallon of some shit off brand rum, but I concluded that the idea of me helplessly puking into the very bed we were lying in might put a damper on the mood of the night.

“Spilled Pepsi all over it, I’m a klutz.” Crisis averted.

“Damn, that sucks.”

“Indeed.”

Neither of us said anything for about two minutes, barely even moved. I kissed her after awhile.

“Did you play any sports in high school?”

“Yeah, actually I wrestled sophomore through senior year.” I told her.

“Really?’ she said sitting up a little and looking at me before continuing “You, a wrestler? In a weird way I can see that.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty terrible at most sports. My mom, she used to send me and my cousins to this sports camp. I went there for like, four summers. Didn’t get any better at anything, besides shit talking and faking injuries.”

“Hahaha. What made you want to wrestle?”

“I’m an only child and haha, I’ve always got a lot of stored energy and aggression and shit. You know, from not having a little brother’s ass to beat or something. Not that I’m violent or anything, I just enjoy putting people in headlocks every now and again. Is that so wrong?”

Now that I think about it maybe I was a little violent. To this day I still attack cousins and close friends. At every family gathering I look forward to throwing my little cousins over couches and into laundry baskets and my assaults on friends my age are rather hostile and elaborate. This past summer I was approached by three mall cops and almost banned from the premises after a play fight I had initiated in a clothing store. Just last month I choked Justin with my dogs rope toy thing.

“Yeah, ok psycho.”

“Ahhh bite me, Did you play any sports?”

“No not really..” She continued on about how she was in a collection of plays and performances in high school. She had showed me pictures of her in high school through her face book. In my old school the dancers were the popular girls, cheerleaders, prom queens and other assorted pretty faces. This was not the case at her school, the dance team she showed me in the pictures looked more like the chess team. Maybe the chess team paints to nerdy of a picture, more like the environmental club. They posed. They laughed. They got caught off guard. All with an air of adolescent awkwardness

There was another silence. I could here the T.VTV/television. through the walls. It was “The Cable Guy.”

“Are you hungry?” I asked her as I looked at the ceiling.

“Yeah, a little but I never turn down food. What do you have?”

“Oh, you’ll see. I’m going to make us the most romantic meal ever.”

“Oh, wow. I can’t wait.” She said smiling at me.

I put my pants on and walked into the living room. Not three steps out of my room I see Keeley’s friend Jasmine’s head jerk up. She was sitting on the couch with Freddy who was now scrabblingscrambling to fasten his pants. I had just walked in on oral sexBlunt way to put it. The phrasing needs to be revised. I made eye contact with both of them. There was no need to pretend like I didn’t see it. The room reeked of lust and penisI know its metaphorical, but once again, very crass when your audience is mainly 13-16. Freddy wore a tank top and sweat a lot. The living room couch was drenched in his sweat; back sweat and ball sweatNo prizes for guessing what I'm thinking.. I was smirking, they were giggling.

“Well alright.” I coughed out and headed to the refrigerator. I had no idea what was in it, I barely shopped and I was sure that the items I bought were either eaten or rotten. I opened the freezer; ice cream, steak, French fries, more ice cream, mini tacos, mini corn dogs and three frozen pizzas. The only thing that belonged to me was the box of mini corn dogs and it was half empty. Before moving in my mom prepped me on how to deal with the house food thief. The thief was me now. I had been eating Randy’s mini tacos and Kyle’s hot pockets for the better part of a week. Not to mention I drank the shit out of every soda Valens had ever purchased. I decided to cook us my corn dogs, didn’t want to spoil the night with thievery.

As I watched the corn dogs heat in the microwave and too tired to avoid looking at Freddy and Jasmine on the couch I thought about how it was only 12:48 am. The night had pretty much been a whirl wind for me. It started in Korn’s room, like most of the early nights did. I didn’t have much to drink that night, so I was slightly more composed than usual. I can’t remember a damn thing I said to her in Korn’s room. Her friends pulled me aside a few times to ask me if I liked her. I charmed them into convincing her to come to my room. In a comedy book I read there was a passage that said “When things go right, it’s a blur. It’s when you crash that you remember every detail.” Things went right that night, with Keeley. The night was a river, and I was just a floating log. Lucky drift wood.

Two minutes and the corn dogs would be ready. Jasmine charged into my room, I’d never seen my door close so fast. I looked at Freddy. He was still in high school and here he was getting mouth love from a college girl. He smiled at me; cocky little shit. Earlier that night Keeley told me she had a thing with one of the guys who lived in my building. She didn’t tell me who but she knew I knew him. Apparently he liked her way more than she liked him, but she was trying to spare his feelings and not be seen entering and exiting my room. This was the third time I had been in this situation this year, girl stealing. I never did it to disrespect anyone. In fact this time wasn’t even on purpose. Keeley had been in my room a few hours earlier then left to settle things with the mystery boy. I offered to talk to him too, but she said it would make things weird. I didn’t give a fuck about weirdness. It was the benefit of being socially challenged. I simply didn’t have time to give any fucksPardon me for being clueless, but does this last sentence mean?.

Corn dogs were done. The microwave open button got stuck pretty often. I pressed it a few times until the door finally swung open. I Jackie Chan dodged it and grabbed the plate. I knocked on my door, I knew better than to interrupt girl talk. I waited a few. The door open and Jasmine was standing there.

“Hello.” I said holding the plate in one hand and trying to keep my pants up with the other.

“I need to talk to you.” She said taking the plate from me and giving it to Keeley.

“Corn dogs are your idea of romantic?” Keeley said with her mouth already eating one.

“Try it with barbecue sauce. They are divine.” I said pointing to a bottle that was already on my desk. I wondered how the hell that even got there. I was lead by the hand by Jasmine to the bathroom.

She closed the door and I sat on the toilet.

“Having a good night, Jasmine?”

“It’s alright, what about yours?”

“Not so good. I missed Super jail, it was a new episode.” I laughed.

“Do you like Keeley?”

“Didn’t you already ask me this?”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes, a lot.”

“What do you like about her?” She sat down the sink and looked at me like I was a criminal.

“Her eyes.” I whispered.

“Huh?” Jasmine said leaning her head in. She was smiling slightly so I was too intimidated but I knew this was a relatively serious talk.

“I like her because I can actually talk to her. I feel oddly comfortable around her.” I said looking down at my pants, they were dirty. I looked up at Jasmine and she seemed pleased with my answer.

“I like her because it is easy to like her.” The words snuck out of my mouth. They echoed and then disappeared. Moments of inadvertent honesty were becoming more routine ever since I moved in. They oozed out, the truths; unapologetic truths. I didn’t know what to make of it. I had no choice but to accept them and pray I learned to internalize them.

“Good.” she said.

“Think I have a chance with her?”

“Maybe.” she laughed before saying, “You are cuter than most of the guys she talks to.”

I laughed. I saw a picture of Keeley with a guy she identified as her ex boyfriendex-boyfriend, its one adjective, not two. I thought I was cuter. But I knew it was about looks with Keeley. She was into artists, and more turned on by passion and creativity then faces and muscles.

After I finished with Jasmine I went back to my room. She was sitting on the bed talking on her phone.

“Here he is now.” Keeley said.

“Who is that?”

“It’s Ashley. I think she wants to go back to the U.C now.”

Ashley was Keeley’s room mate. Her crush on Korn was the reason I met Keeley in the first place.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah she is tired and doesn’t feel like staying with Korn tonight.”

Even though we had already had sex, I still didn’t want Keeley to go yet. Cuddling after sex was the cherry on the sundae. If she left now I couldn’t cuddle. I’d be robbed of my sex sundae, I had to do something.

“Let me see the phone.”

Keeley passed me her phone. I didn’t know what I was going to say to Ashley to convince her to stay, but I am a writer and words are my tool.

“Hey Ashley. What’s this I here about you trying to leave and take Keeley and Jasmine with you?” I cut to the chase, there was no need to play it subtle.

“Yeah Adam. I’m getting sleepy and want to lie in my OWN bed.” She said, clearly emphasizing to Korn.

“Well it’s 1 in the morning and this is Chicago. There are dangerous men out there Ashley; men that wouldn’t think twice about harassing three pretty young girls walking home this late.”

“I always carry pepper spray and the U.C is like ten minutes away.”

“Yeah, that’s what all rape victims say. Next thing they know they are tied up in an attic getting fingers put in their butt-.- Have a little compassion for rape victims. You don’t want to be the victim of a booty pinky, do you Ashley?” the words fumbled and flipped out. Booty pinky sounded like a Trina song.

“Hahaha, whatever Adam. I’m tired so tell Keeley to met me in Korn’s room.”

“Hmmmm, that means she has to put back on all of her clothes. That might take awhile…” I looked at Keeley. She had sex hairWhat?. “And plus, you have your whole life to sleep in your own bed. You are young and who knows how long it will last. Take chances, sleep in mysterious beds, even if it is a rough night, one night is in the flash in the pan in the long runWhat are you trying to say?.”

There was silence on the other end and then, “Put Keeley back on the phone.”

I handed Keeley the phone. They talked for a few seconds then hung up.

“Well I’m staying but I have to leave early tomorrow.” Keeley looked up at me.

“Glad to hear it.” I kissed her and grabbed a handful of corn dogs.

We talked for a few hours. About the movie Pulp Fiction and consumerism and how it had made hip hop dance a fad. Then we went to sleep. Well, she did. I had an erection and about 20 minutes into her slumber I woke her up for sexHuh.. Then we went to sleep for real.


The only good point I can give you is that, its very autobiographical, everything is genuine.
Though you should have remembered to put up the 'R' rating when you first posted it.

The bad points:
*Rolls eyes* Normally I don't ever say unpleasant stuff, but this story was crass.
It did not go anywhere. There was no highlight in the story.
All it talked about was about you and your friend's escapades,
You truly sound like those people who only think about boobs and getting laid.
I can't even think of a nice way to put it.
I hope you have asked Keeley's permission to put her name and story here.
Especially after how you've described her.

I apologise if I sound rude, but you've gotta expect your work to be ripped sometimes.
~Liverpool F.C Supporter~
"You'll never walk alone"




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Points 4495
Reviews 228
Just got an update: It's only an excerpt.
Well, I wish you luck on your further chapters
And sincerely hope that you'll get somewhere with this story.
Try to tone down on the excessive straightforwardness on a touchy subject though.
But I guess this is just you being yourself. Brutally honest.
~Liverpool F.C Supporter~
"You'll never walk alone"




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Points 890
Reviews 62
fuck trying to tone it down, DON'T tone it down its brilliant.


take out all the sex, add more plot and make it less blunt and you've got a shitty teen romance story. HOW ORIGINAL.

Yeah i agree with the rating but keep all the stuff that kind of creeps me out a bit.

You probably already know to ignore those comments, but still. It made me rage a bit so :P





keep it up. and load more!

i wanna see ;D
Is this bass REALLY strong enough?



I think the more you understand myths, the more you understand the roots of our culture and the more things will resonate.
— Rick Riordan