David Trenton's Journal|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in
David Trenton's LiveJournal:
|Monday, October 21st, 2002|
|I met a girl...
Well, that's not entirely accurate. I met a woman. I met her at Simone's show last weekend at The Voyager. She's a waitress there. Her name is Caroline. At first, it started as me showing Blake how to pick up a chick. Blake wandered off to go jerk off and I managed to stick to it and ended up taking Caroline back to my apartment. The sex was good, but what was better was what happened afterwards, although I wouldn't have admitted it then. We talked. We talked about my life, and her life. And then we fell asleep in bed together, with her cuddled against me.
Let's just say, that's not the way my average one night stand goes. And the really strange thing about it all was that I was totally comfortable being like that with her. Sex is one thing, but for me to actually let someone cuddle up to me in bed... I haven't done that in a VERY long time.
She has an abusive ex-boyfriend. I asked her for his name to try and find out where he lived so I could have a "chat" with him. Wyldes couldn't come up with anything, and Cam wasn't much help either. I went and saw her today at lunch time. She had bruises on her face. She told me where he lived, and I went to go see the fuck. Gave him some thumps with a baseball bat and a few knocks with my fists as well. Near as I could tell, his nose was broken and he was out cold by the time I left.
I went back to The Voyager afterwards to pick Caroline up from work. I took her back to her home and made us some dinner. Then we went to her bedroom where I gave her a massage. All these things, I used to do, but haven't done in years. It's strange, doing them again, but at the same time it feels really good. Caroline is an amazing person. She paints. She's good at it, too.
It's amazing, I'm in awe of her and I've only known her for a few days. I've even cut way back on the amount of alcohol I've been consuming. Being around her just makes me not want to drink, really. So it looks like this depressed, anti-social, grouch might actually have found something to bring him out of the hole he's in finally.
Here's hoping. Current Mood: good
|Saturday, July 6th, 2002|
|Thursday, May 30th, 2002|
|The Torment of Wyldes
The little bastard had to make an appearance. He just had to show up. Well, now I'm in for a week of hell. As if my weeks weren't already hellish as it is.
Joey Wyldes is in New York. Worse then that, he's in my house. He's sitting across the room on the couch playing the PS2 that Cam left over here earlier in the week. He seems to have gotten himself addicted to Nightmare Alley in about the day he's been here. He got a week off and just decided, as he usually does, to hunt me down and torture me. He got here yesterday, Friday. He just showed up knocking on the door. Cam's the same way. No real warning, just, "Hi, I'm here, deal with it."
That can be very annoying. At least Cam has the upside of being that she's easy on the eyes. That and she doesn't move in and take over my life for a week either. That's exactly what Wyldes does. It's started already. I made the mistake of mentioning Simone's show tonight, and now he's nagging and bitching at me to go.
I guess I'll do the little maggot a favor and take him there. Maybe I'll get lucky and someone else will offer to let him bunk up with them for a week. Or he'll find someone else to pester and annoy. Or maybe he'll even hook up with some chick and they'll go back to her place... wait a minute, this is Wyldes I'm talking about. I don't think the guy's ever even gotten laid, he's such a nerd.
Here he comes again. I guess he got killed in the game and now he's gonna start pestering me about going to the show. Dammit. Current Mood: irritated
|Sunday, May 26th, 2002|
|I knew this was a bad idea...
I knew making this journal was a bad idea. Now I have people bitching at me to update it. Shit, like my life is so fucking interesting. I mean, seriously, does anyone want to here me bitching and moaning about my life all the time?
So, yea, I went out with Cam the other night and got to watch her make out and finger a couple chicks at the bar. Fucking New York, right? I would've never seen something like that back when I lived in St. Pete. And back then I probably would have appreciated it more. Oh well, it's one more thing I can say I got to see before I die.
I was rummaging through this old box of shit in my closet and I came across this pic of me. Don't ask me why I'm putting it up here. I just figured I don't have much else better to do, so fuck it.
There, I posted, now I'm going back to my bottle of scotch. Current Mood: drunk
|Thursday, May 16th, 2002|
|Why people shouldn't just drop in on me...
So, yesterday I got an unexpected visit from one Cameron Grant. I didn't exactly want her coming over. Nor do I want anyone coming over, really. But I decided to not be a complete asshole and be civilized. It actually started out pretty good. Surprisingly so. I have to say... she gives an amazing
neck massage. It actually put me in a good mood. And if you know me even in passing, you realize that me and good mood don't deserve to be in the same universe. But she managed to do it.
Too bad good things don't last long around me. As usual, I fucked everything up. Pissed Cam off and she left. About fifteen minutes later, while I was working up a good drunk, she comes back. She's still in a pissy mood and decides she wants me to share my booze with her. Far be it from me to refuse booze to people. We end up getting into an argument. The long story short, she nearly strangles me to death, and I wasn't even putting up a struggle. Part of me still wishes she would've finished the job.
After that, things kind of got better again. The booze was getting to Cam and she decided to go off on a bad joke tangent... then she broke out the silly string.
So... the night ended up turning out not as horrible as most of my nights do. Still, I have to remind myself I can't get too close to Cam, or anybody else for that matter. It's just not healthy for anyone. And it's with that thought in mind, that I'm still seriously contemplating leaving WorldTec. They don't need me. They've already got a team of highly skilled and talented people. The last thing they need is me fucking things up for them. Current Mood: contemplative
|Tuesday, May 14th, 2002|
|The waste of fucking life named Trenton
Yea, so somebody managed to swindle/bribe/blackmail me into starting this here journal. It's really their mistake. I mean, shit, the only reason anyone would actually want to read about my pathetic life is if they needed a reason to slit their wrists/put a gun to their head/taking a long walk off a short pier. So if you're looking for posts about puppy dogs and sunshiney days and all around happyness, you've come to the wrong fucking place. Let me give you a bit of an example.
Right now, I've got a cast on my foot. Why? Well, to find that out, you have to go back to last weekend. I went to a party thrown by some of my co-workers. No sooner had I arrived then shit started to take a swan dive into shit. Figures. These things usually happen around me. Long story short, Cam got a big ass piece of glass in her foot, Blake got stabbed in the gut and damn near died, and me, I fell down a flight of stairs, bashed the mortal fuck outta myself, got a concussion and broke my fucking foot. So, all in all, it was a splendid party.
But that shit's bound to happen when you enter me into any eqation. I'm cursed. Jinxed. Fucked. Death envies me. He's my unwanted best buddy. And then there's the booze. That's my much wanted best buddy. It's the shit that makes the days bareable. So don't bitch at me and preach at me and lecter me and say, I shouldn't drink so much. Cause I've got two words for you. Fuck off. Don't tell me how to kill myself. Life is the slowest form of suicide after all. Current Mood: cynical