Trashy McNasty

And that was it. I was marketing my dirty panties, being as desperate as I was. Attending church here is different than Helvetia, but it almost seems dirty. Everyone means well and I know God loves us all, but I couldn't help feel I stood out. The priest led the sermon in a plaid shirt with a mustard stain on it, the knees were ripped on his Levi's, mud fell off his boots when he walked and like every other adult in the room, his teeth were stained from smoking. What teeth were left that is. Meth has taken over the world, even here in this small town church. Doesn't anyone smoke a blunt in harmony anymore? I couldn't receive a clear response from the rude elders as to whether or not I could lead a Sunday school class. The children weren't running around in harmony and fun, but rather shrill shrieks of anger and distress. Blessing in disguise I thought. Even applying for jobs at local restaurants turned out to be a bust. There wasn't a silver lining anywhere. After drinking too many glasses, ok bottles of Reisling, I found myself on Preston's couch. I was loosened up enough to forget the filth or company I was keeping. "Sling dope." Torie suggested, "Its what has fed me for the last four years." Looking at her it was the only thing that fed her as she looked like a corpse with way too much makeup on. I shook my head and spilled my past exploits with used panties and my plan to advertise anonymously in the ad bulletin.

After letting what I was saying sink in, Preston and Torie pulled me onto my feet and handed me a pipe to hit. Finally seeing marijuana was still in, I took it and inhaled the nastiest smoke I had ever imagined. "What the - "  I wanted to vomit. Their laughs turned into condolences as Preston opened me another Bud. I chugged it at Torie's urging and I welcomed the trashy girl's touch. Not so much welcomed it but didn't attempt to stop it. My mind didn't allow me to feel either of the filthy hands groping at me like I was the food source she had needed for the last four years. I was oblivious and playing memories of the Deacon in my head until my imagination couldn't pretend anymore. It is foolish to believe that he would have ever handled me in such a way.

Closing my eyes and letting my dreams surface, it wasn't meth mouth Torie touching me. It certainly couldn't be her stank breath I smelled as I was locked in kiss. Preston pulled my face nearer to his, locking his lips on mine as Tories thin lips grinned with approval. Free love, after all. In my head I  visualized  knocking their heads off with the hammer laying in the floor and running from the trailer, lighting a match behind me. I close my eyes and turn my head to the side concentrating on a new image in my mind.


Own My Gussets

Own My Gussets
What Tickles Your Fancy