DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #7 - seattle slang ?

the day after
فيكتوريا

The sight of Bess being taken through pound town by Dave Abbruzzese in our shared restroom triggered two opposite reactions in Chrissie and I. Chrissie flinched in disgust and started to pile up all of the detergents she will have to use to wipe that cum off the tiles. I just applauded of their sexual efforts and kept banging my fists against the wall of the neighbouring room as they began their 'round two'. When Dave finally left the place, and Bessie slipped into some not very slutty loungewear, we all realised we were hungry and ordered pizza. The pizza guy stared at my cherry tits as I opened the door for him, but I just showed twenty bucks under his nose and slammed the door on his face. Not Sean? Not Mike Inez? I'm not interested.

The girls and I are now sitting around the table, enjoying pizza, beer... and a lot of gossip. Seattle Gossip Committee, that's how they call us. When they don't call us the Angels of Grunge, of course. And when Jerry doesn't call us Angel Thighs, Asian Eyes and Wispy Brows. But. Back to the rightful track. Let's keep the munching gossip session going on, 'cause we've still got a lot to say. And I promise, I solemnly promise, I will try not to mention my not so secret crush on Sean the not so gay guy with the Honda Four this time. The girls have heard about it for ... the last solid 48 hours, in an endless loop. I'm sure they've grown tired of my blabbering over that, and they want saucier stuff than me fawning a man I still haven't had the pleasure to see with a lack of clothes.

'Bessie, I really like Dave. He's a good guy and all... but y'know who I root for'. I chime in, taking a bite off my slice of hot dog and fries pizza, leaving out the hot dogs because we don't eat pork meat where I'm from. But nobody knows where I'm from. Nobody cares if I don't eat meat. And nobody understands it. Like Bessie doesn't seem to understand that there is a guy who spent all that party night of two days ago on his seat, gripping a beer tight in hand, with a frown on his face 'cause he wanted to be the one with her. Instead of Cuntrell. His name is Stone, he plays in Pearl Jam, and I think that his parents haven't been very kind to him when they chose his birth name. But ugly name and all, I am pretty sure he's in love with Bess. He is a real gentleman, and I've been rooting for him since the very first time I saw the look in his eyes when he's in Bessie's presence. Very similar to the way Chris looks at Chrissie. Chrissie is loved by her longtime best guy friend and sweetheart. Bessie is loved by Stoneguy, and probably by Dave too. I ain't loved by anyone, not even by my mom... and for a romantic like me, shit sucks. Reason why I devour my slice of pizza and I accompany the tasty swallowing with a deep sip of beer.

'Definitely not Jerry. I know it, Tori'. Bessie answers, as her eyes roll to the back of her head 'cause she knows where I'm trying to bring the conversation. I don't like Cantrell, never really liked him. He gives big STD energy, with all that sticking his monster cock inside of a different chick every couple hours. I will never forget the time he tried his luck on Chrissie and I, as soon as he pulled out from within Bessie. And he was real shameless about it. I think he's the only rival to Mike McCready, when it comes to getting the throne for the biggest fuckboy of Seattle. But at least McCready seems to be nicer to the women he sleeps with. I've never done him and I don't wish to ever do him, even though he really wants me and he goes as far as smacking his McCock against my ass to prove it, on occasion. But I don't need to sleep with a man to know how he's like ... my female first impressions on men are never wrong. My female gut feeling tells me that Dave A is an amazing man. Gentle, kind, passionate ... but still a bit dirty minded. But that Stone? He's the one for Bessie. He's intelligent, respectful, well bred, and kinda quiet. Have you ever heard that thing that goes like 'it's always the quiet ones?' I think that it's been tailored on Gossard.

'Everyone but Cuntrell. I still wonder why you keep fucking him'. Chrissie has her say on the whole matter, while munching on her slice of pizza. Killer stare on her face when she sees one of my fries escaping my pizza wrap and falling on the table. Leaving an unacceptable oil stain on it, for a neat freak like her. Sorry? I was just ... eating? I promise I'll try to clean it. I'll try.