The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome
Outfit
What the fuck do I want to wear? I have no idea! I feel like dressing up would be dishonest- maybe I should try and look my crappiest, so Andy will know what I normally look like? But on the other hand, I want to look nice for him... Fuckingshittingdickstick!
I spy a black shirt in my closet that's kind of shiny. Hmmmm... I try it on. Ok, it's a little tight on the boobs, that will do fine. I find some jeans that fit, and pull those on. Then I put my boots on, because that is the best way to face your fate. I want to be buried or cremated with my boots on.
I frown. I don't usually wear makeup. I used to, and I own a lot. I kind of want to. Am I allowed, or is it a bad idea, if I might not all the time? And then a realize I am over-thinking it. Fuck that! I go put on big wads of peacock-green, blue, and purple eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and then curl my eyelashes before adding black mascara. Yay me. The fucking mistress of feminine charm for sure, I think, and chuckle. I go to the balcony to have a cigarette, wondering what's taking Andy so long. Maybe he changed his mind?
4/15/17