A tight, tight tight dress, she was a psychedelic mess.

Dear old Sophie is back in town, "this time for evas", and we had lunch today.

Here's how I think this is all going to go. Rather, he's how I know it's going to go, because this is how it happens every fucking time she decides we should hang out.

We will go over to her place, as Lisa doesn't want her over here. We'll sit and smoke and get fucking plastered, then go watch some movies.

She will fall over onto the couch, and slowly edge over to me, then be all cuddly. Sometimes this is an issue, sometimes it isn't.

Should I be in the mood to not find it an immense problem, either because I'm quite drunk and know that it's not really hurting anyone, or because I'm incredibly pissed off, we will cuddle up a little bit.

Then, she will make a move. Usually, it's pretty damn easy to see this coming - usually into the four bottle of wine, she will start giggling like a schoolgirl at everything.

I'm pretty happy to say that I'm very good at rebuking these moves.

Once or twice though, it has kind of gotten away from me, and suddenly she will be half naked and begging to go to bed.

Of course, this is where it all stops. I really, really have no interest or attraction to her. When I was attracted to her, way back when, it was because I couldn't have her, not because we have anything in common - I mean, I'm a mess, but she's a fucking shitshow and kind of a dick at the heart of it. I don't outright say that of course, but I do always make it really, really fucking clear that I'm just not interested, and even if I was, well hey. She certainly had ample chance for that kind of shit when we were kids, and I the whole concept of "now it happens, because now it's convenient for me" actually fucking irritates the hell out of me.

Don't get me wrong. I get the hypocrisy here, as most of my relationships have started out of something that was convenient for me, then elongated by guilt at the concept of breaking a heart or because it's a really secure place to be. I mean, look where I am now. Not all that different. BUT, it should be noted that with the present glaring exception, I don't keep people on a hook and am very, very final about things when the time comes. None of this prancy, maybe-maybe shit that has defined me and Soph's relationship. So I think it's cool to find it a little irritating even if I'm not much better.

After I make this clear, she will become immensely pissed off in that "I'm really mad but can't actually say anything because you're kind of right" Sophie way. I will leave, and within a few days she will be back off to Vancouver to smoke meth and hang out with homeless anarchists.

I am always left kind of drunk, which is nice, and really, really glad that I dodged that whole fucking bullet back in the day.

I think eventually, she will realize that all she really wants out of me is some self-affirmation and to have someone who's opinion she respects make her feel better by choosing to set aside their whole life for a bit and cater to her emotional and physical needs. I believe it also reminds her of an easier, simpler time, when this sort of shit was no big deal. I think she'll figure out that, hey, that is and almost always has been the basis of our friendship - she would give me something to chase after and be sad about, and I'd make her feel good by constantly letting myself get caught up in her life.

As of last year's debacle, I realized that all I'm really looking for out of her is free fucking booze and someone who can keep up ok.

So, I think after this time around, that maybe that will be that, messages will be gotten, friendships will likely be done, and the rest of the world who has to constantly watch this fucking train wreck will breath in a big sigh of relief.



I think I've posted this song like twice this week, and have plastered my facebook with lyrics from it and other sublime songs, but it kinda works out here. I wonder if I will ever out grow this band - it sometimes seems there's a lyric for everything in life.

I'm supposed to go over to Rocco's tomorrow. He wants to watch monty python and get baked. The guy is 44 years old and has spent a good chunk of his life in one of the most liberal countries on the face of the earth, and he's never tried weed. Must be the East German upbringing - the Reds don't like the Green. Should be fun, as Rocco is the shit - in fact, I have a strong that we will likely end up getting a place together eventually, as we are both excellent at getting kicked out of our houses by the women we are with and could really stand to have a crash pad. After all, he can't always be sleeping on my couch, and me on his, if neither of us own couches anymore.

Maybe no one really ever outgrows anything. Maybe I'll see if his guitar's in tune, and teach him sublime songs. Lulz.