The Life of Dreams

Affair with a middle school classmate + ripping off a great run

combatdavey — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 19:34:38 +0000

I REMEMBER TWO THINGS, and two things only.

Thing one: I was involved in a passionate, sexual affair with a girl, GS, that I went to middle school with. There was a point where we were on a bus, and, for some reason, sitting on a makeshift seat outside the bus. I looked ahead, saw a multi-coloured brick wall, knew I was going to get injured when we hit it. Then, of course, we hit it. GS chewed the bus driver out and the driver said it was my fault. We went back to her place where we fooled around. We stopped, suddenly, and she went towards a door on the far side of her room. It was a bathroom. She opened it and there were people inside, and I remember feeling nervous and anxious. I wanted them to go away. She was wearing black lingerie. GS came back to me and we continued fooling around.

Thing two: I was playing football. I was a quarterback or running back in an NFL game. There was an option play and I think I was supposed to throw it, or pitch it, but what I did was fake a toss and run it off-tackle right. I broke a tackle and heard my coach yell at me for fucking up. I don’t remember if it was Bill Cowher or not, but I do remember it was an iconic coach with a memorable (ironic, I know) face. I kept going. I was breaking tackles and pulling tacklers. Ten yards, twenty, thirty, fifty, they couldn’t bring me down. When they finally did I was about fifteen yards from the goal line.

Tilda Swinton teacher + more rats

combatdavey — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 17:44:04 +0000

THERE WAS THIS TEACHER, a university teacher, and I was either in her class or a visiting student or a visiting professor. We chatted, and chatting led to flirting, and flirting led to real hardcore innuendo, and that led back to flirting, and that led to oh my God I totally want to have sex with this woman right fucking now. She looked like Tilda Swinton but less androgynous, and, come to think of it, like a prettier version of Elly Jackson from La Roux. Anyway, the interaction was deadly: Flirtation answered with subtle flirtation answered with pull-away answered with flirtation answered with oh, you’re still interested answered with, answered with, answered with…

Anyone who likes the chase, the game, will appreciate this.

So there’s a ton of back and forth, and then I get chumped in front of other people. And then I notice when I walk back to her office, or my office, or something, she had left a note for me with her phone number on it. It was exciting, sneaky, dangerous, fun. It felt like I was in an eighties movie.

Later, there were rats gnawing my right hand off, on the other side of my hand. Like, I could see the back of my hand but was too scared to turn it around to see my palm, because I could feel the rats biting and scratching and it was fucking disgusting.

The cuddling/gnawing rat (again, nice metaphor, brain)

jaysandpeas — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 13:54:02 +0000

I FOUND A SAD-LOOKING RAT in the back alleyway. I picked it up and it was cuddling me in my palms. Then it started freaking out and gnawing on my fingers, so I had to drop it again. It took a bite of cauliflower (why there was cauliflower I have no idea) and calmed down. I picked it up again and it resumed cuddling, then eventually it freaked out and started gnawing again. This process happened several times, and I kept trying to reassure the rat that we were going home and that I knew the fastest way so it should just calm down. I got a bit lost, though, and ended up going the long way home, and two men started following me threateningly. I made it into my house, figuring my roommate M would protect me when I got there. He didn’t, though, so I just beat the shit out of these two guys. I was incredibly strong. I almost broke one of their ankles until they finally agreed to leave.

Then I started playfighting with M. I could have taken him, but didn’t.