DADDY sez...

On Angela's birthday, Laura cooked fajitas for her

We walked to the market to get the ingredients. At the checkstand, fuckin Angela plays "quckdraw" and slaps down her card.

It was her birthday... freakin' clown.

The fajitas were super yummy. Angela thinks fajitas are the perfect food. She's right. My Umani Ramen is perfect, too. So's a Loco Moco. And a #1 no onions from In n' Out. And a plate at Bob's Okazu Ya: beef curry, chicken long rice, potato-mac salad, sweet sour ribs, kalua cabbage, tsukemono hot off the steam table. So fuckin good. Oooo, chocolate peanut butter ice cream out the ice cream maker and batch frozen for an hour... nut topping and whipped cream right in the tub - five spoons, no waiting.

But I digress.

I got her a stack of random-ass stuff from the japanese store: a giant pencil, a plush unicorn...

We got high and all curled up in the 'Nest' sofa, talked about how her character should be in the "GreggyChristo" movie - she has very specific ideas, all good... talked about all sorts of shit and laughed like idiots; laughing ourselves to sleep.

I been thinking of fate and choice and the accumulation of quanta that gets us to where we are now.

Angela wanted to go do Graduate studies a few years back, ended up not doing it; going a different direction. Even though she gets a little bent sometimes about that path not taken, I think the thing she's in right now serves her perfectly.

But what if it went the other way. And not just that one thing, but the millions of choices in our lives and the things outside of our control that brings us into the here-now.

Any one of a near-infinite number of factors could have prevented us from being sprawled out on a sofa on a hot summer night laughing our asses off like the retards we are.

If she had done Graduate work, I would have never met her. Fuck that.

everything is so perfect the way it is.

Anyway sometime after midnight I woke and started making a "to do" list. I haven't done one of those in months. I got sleepy again and crawled back into the "nest".

It was hot as fuck. Between my body heat and Angela's and the vertical crib-like sides of the Nest, it was like a sauna. So I doze off and enter into a dream cycle. But instead of getting a deep relaxing rest, friggin Angela's dream/energy body kept molesting me.

Oh, maybe I imagined the whole thing. No... no, not my imagination. Ang's Dream Body is even more hypersexual than her waking self. I awoke with that confused, fatigued just-penetrated feeling.

Angela woke and crawled over to the cool side of the room (the middle of the floor actually) and went back to sleep, as did I.

And I rested better, not being engulfed by Ang's succubus-like Dreamtime hypersexuality.

Really though, it's not her fault. I'm the one who crawled back into the "nest" at 4 in the morning instead of crashing back on the floor.

Clearly I was "asking for it."