ummm

I remember waking up against him, really drunk still, and all I could think was like, fuck-- doesn't he ever wash under his arms? Or shower or something? Because it smelled, I mean, really. And at first it was like, aww gross, but then I started getting into it, his odor, "cos it was him" or whatever. He was all sticky, and at first I thought it was that we'd spilled beer everywhere. But then I realized it was, you know like, semen. All over him. Awesome. Him and me.

I sort of stumbled across/over his body. He was hot and sweating a little. His chest was rising and falling really heavy, like he was having sex with someone almost, but he was just sleeping. And when I got off the bed and stepped away, and my eyes adjusted to the daylight and I was looking back, it was like, "Wow-- so I really am Eminem's girlfriend" and I was *stoked*.

That room was so fucked up, there was trash, shit-- everywhere. There were lots of pictures on the wall, mostly of him on tour, him with all his "posse," or "crew" I guess. Lots of drunk/fucked up people. There was one really funny one of him where he looked totally stoned, and he was putting his head through fucking Marilyn Manson's legs, and like, grabbing Manson's thighs sort of, curling his hands around to get a grip. I was like, "fag!"

I've got these earrings that I was wearing, or I used to have these earrings-- they're gone-- and one of them was like, pressed against my face, squished in there on my skin, held in place by some sweat etc. Semen ha ha! And my hair was all mashed. I had light blonde-ish hair then, sort of long. I tried to fix myself up a little in the mirror (no good), and realized that I was standing there stark naked, boyhood out, just hanging there.

I was thinking, shit, I wonder if he knows I am a guy, trying to remember (I was so fucked up) things from the night before. I had some images of us at a carnival-- he’d won me some thing from one of those shooting galleries, and I think bought me some cotton candy. I couldn’t recollect much more than that. Oh, and that he was carrying this big thing of Bacardi and was drinking it straight. And i'd drank a lot of beer. He sort of woke up then, he was like "c'mere," his eyes were bleary. I kind of shuffled over to the bed and climbed back on. As much as all the body odor, I could smell the cum now. Fucking everywhere, where'd it all come from I was wondering.

Ah, okay, I was like, I guess he's cool with that, that i'm like, boygirl, cos I was on top of him and riding in just a few minutes, and he was holding me and rubbing it hard up and down a lot like it was his own. His wasn't like, not like 'super-long,' but damn it was pretty thick around, and he was a vigorous little dude, I'll say that much. "It was hard to walk." You always hear dudes say that, and you're thinking "yeah" but then some guy really does it to you and you're like, "fuuuuck," cos you're like, standing up on the bus all the time, and eating dinner on you're feet and shit like that.

It was awesome though, he was a really fun guy, kind of dirty, but it turned out to be really fun. I gave him head a lot, & he wouldn't really wash up that much, but you know, some guys are like that, and it didn't actually really bother me. And he had tied me up for a while, my wrists to my ankles with like, pillow cases I think, and was fucking me extremely hard, and for a very long time. I think part of it is like, wanting to really have like, total control over me/ someone. Just that feeling of 'power' becomes kind of sexual in itself. Fuck fuck fuck, don't let up. I remember that I was screaming, I couldn't help it. I think I bled all over those gross sheets, and then he would pull it out and... it was just a mess. This was in the morning. The smell was overwhelming, it just engulfed everything.

Saint Patrick’s Day, 2002