Something's "gotten into me" I think.
Last night, I went over to the guy's house who got me expelled from school in 6th grade.
I wore one of the oversized, sheer button ups from American Apparel with nothing under it. I put a very large sweater over it and laughed really hard and thought, "balls to the wall" or something, and then I laughed again for thinking that, and laughed because I was being really "slutty" and "confident" and I'm really not slutty or confident, so I was obviously just kidding. I'm obviously just going out of my mind my campy/retarded/scary inner monolog is just spilling out into reality.
I honestly don't know how it got to the point where I was pointing an assault rifle with a scope with a green laser at his head.
"Don't point that at my face," he said, "I'm not afraid you're going to shoot me, the laser's just designed for blinding people, you know."
I shook my head and put the gun down on the table. "Will you teach me how to shoot this gun?" I said and he sat down next to me.
"Sure," he said.
"Last time someone told me they'd teach me how to shoot a gun....I fucked them."
He looked at me while blinking, "Is that...all it takes?"
"Yeah," I said, laughing.
Then he said something very like...stupid, but like, intentionally stupid like, "Then I'll definitely teach you how to shoot my gun, baby," or something like that.
I don't really know what happened after that, but at some point we were "making out." He took off my sweater and looked at my shirt while smiling and said, "Did you take your bra off?" I said, "No, I wasn't wearing a bra."
Then I was like...sitting on his lap without a shirt on.
"Did you....come over here just to....fuck me?" He asked.
"Yeah. I mean, I think so. The other day, I thought, "that guy who got me kicked out of school in 6th grade, I'm gonna fuck that guy," so I just came over here in a see through shirt."
"Really?" He asked, "That's...I kind of can't believe that. I've wanted to do this for like 14 years, like, I've wanted to do this over half my life. It seems like stuff like this doesn't really...happen...Why did we talk for so long? Why didn't you just walk through the door and...I don't know."
"I don't know it just...didn't seem 'right' 'till I was pointing a gun at your face. Now that I'm thinking about it though, maybe I should wait 'till you teach me to shoot the gun. Seems like that's the mistake I made last time."
"I'll teach you how to shoot that gun right now, you don't even have to put a shirt on, like, seriously."
"No, whatever. I mean I came over to fuck you, the gun thing is ancillary or...like secondary or...some ary word. Whatever. Nevermind."
I looked at his face, sometimes kissing him, and he looked really nervous, and I thought, I'm really a fucking piece of shit, or something, and then started laughing.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked, "Why do you keep laughing?"
"Oh, I don't know, I can't...I'm sorry, I can't help it, I just think everything is funny."
"It's...just...having a half naked girl sitting on your dick laughing is sort of...nerve racking...."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Just put your hands around my throat and push really hard until I don't laugh anymore, or...like, breath anymore, or...whatever you want....seriously."
And he did that a lot.