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Thoughts and Reflections from the Downstairs Room (402 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 0.75 on 9 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Greg (View user info) at 2006-08-17 14:39:52 EDT


I don't think any of you guys really understood or felt the emotion I was trying to get across in my poem "My New Downstairs Room!' In this sense, we are all failures. But to save time, I'll take the blame.

I'll start at the beginning. This summer hasn't been an easy one. I've had a lot of long days and even longer nights. Endless nights of tossing and turning and just generally being uncomfortable. Needless to say this had quite the negative effective on my mood and the ability to function during the day. My friends began to take notice but offered no advice to help me sleep better at night. During these nights I began to notice how much cooler it was downstairs. It was nice and cool. It felt like winter down there.

So I began to sleep on the downstairs couch. It really helped out a lot. I could sleep with no discomfort at all.

On my way to a baseball game yesterday, I was driving with my friend, Takota and I was showing him my new shoes. I lifted my right foot up from under the steering wheel so he could get a nice glance at them. They're Roma Atletica Calzatura. And black. With fancy white markings on the side. "Jesus! Don't do that! You're driving!" I'm sorry Takota.

We pass by this driver's education car and I stare at them for a bit. I see several youngsters in there. "Learn to drive!!! Oh wait....you are!!!" Is what I said matter of factly to them. They didn't hear me though.

At the baseball game I had a terrible time.


On our way home, things got serious. "You've been sleeping well, I've noticed." This was true. I had been sleeping a lot better since I got on the downstairs couch. "Have your parents said anything?" I told them no they hadn't, and I that I sure wish they won't because I don't like the idea of sleeping in my room again. I had not noticed that this obviously foreshadowed some upcoming unpleasant events the first of which took place when I got home that night.

I went to go to sleep on the downstairs couch where I saw a note. I picked it up and read it aloud:

"Nolan. Don't sleep on the couch, the carpet guys are going to measure for the new carpet tomorrow morning. -Mom."

So I didn't sleep on the couch that night.

The carpet guys came and measured the carpet. We're gonna get a red carpet down there. It should look nice and hopefully it'll cover up the stains that this family is so fond of making (Our family stains a lot of shit.)

So the next night I slept down there again and it was alright. But the next morning my mom got real serious. "Don't sleep on the couch at all ever. You're smushing up the cushions." Ok, first of all, no I didn't. The cushions were already fucked up because of our dogs. They ruined it. Not me.

This of course didn't matter to my mom. Or to anybody but myself. But they gave me a choice: Either stop sleeping on the couch and sleep in my own bed or help convert my father's office into a room for myself. I chose from the later of my rather limited options.

What me and Mom didn't know though was that my father had already promised Marsha that room. Apparently she's been uncomfortable in here room as well, but suspect this is for different reasons. (Preggers) But I digress, we had argued for a long time with each other. Until my parents said I could have it since I'm older and moving to college in a few weeks and Marsha could have it after that. Marsha agreed to this.

So it all went well. I moved into the downstairs room and I started sleeping well again.

Lately though, I don't get to see much of my parents. Things have been lonely and I miss them. So I feel like I'm already away at college. And this is scary because I don't leave for another two weeks. I'm not ready for this. But if I go back upstairs, it'll prove I'm not ready to be on my own yet. I want to have sex with Marsha.


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User Reviews


Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-08-17 23:03:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

Don't apologize for people not getting your last post. Expecting the average user to engage you in a discussion of your verse here is about as foolish as expecting your dick to start your car in the morning.


If you, um, were the kind to try sticking it in the ignition that is.

Submitted by coley (user info) at 2006-08-17 18:05:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-17 15:33:18 (#)
Ranking: 1

MARSHA MARSHA MARSHA

Submitted by alwayspeach1 (user info) at 2006-08-17 16:25:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

+2 Brady Bunch

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-17 15:33:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

MARSHA MARSHA MARSHA

Here's a thought bub - why not turn the attic into a groovy lil love pad, replete with beads?

Submitted by ubetidid (user info) at 2006-08-17 15:24:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Having sex with your pregnant sister
would probably cause you nightmares sometime
in the future and then what would that do
to your sleep Einstein?



Submitted by Hypatia86 (user info) at 2006-08-17 15:17:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

I dont really know what to think of this... but if marsha is your sis, thats fucked up.

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-08-17 14:52:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Probably because you're still thinking about my post.

Because I'm not seeing the funny.

Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2006-08-17 14:42:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Why do I find this so funny?

Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2006-08-17 14:42:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

This is hilarious. I laughed the whole way through.


Step aside, everyone! Sensitive love letters are my specialty. Dear
Baby, Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: you.

-- Homer Simpson
Bart the Lover