The Blow
Braxton joined Alex and me this morning making finger sandwiches for girls who were out of my league. I suggested strawberries and arugula with motor oil. Alex suggested it “didn’t fucking matter”, so long as we named them “Vermillion”. Braxton scoffed at vermillion, and suggested we make pb&J (I doubt his sincerity on this), but call them “Red.”
In the evening time we went to the church which was recently sponsored by SONY; it’s vaulted columns adorned with single LCD flat panels, inducing the deep PS3-blue glow. Many girls—in blond and raven—were about, and were out of my league.
I expect success. Alex is kissing and touching a wealthy girl from the Sudan. Braxton is in black and white, whispering french to a lass in an open back dress with her hair done up in the fashion.
