Diesel
Monkey
Diesel
Monkey is the story of one, terribly self conscious, mixed up, crazy twenty
something chick who hits the road in pursuit of her favorite rockstar.
You may think this story sounds strikingly similar to a trip that the author
recently went on...and that's the idea...65% of this story is true. 65%,
I tell you...your mission...to weed out the lies. The names have all been
changed, but not as a protective service.
11:30 - Friday - Rest
Area Stop
We were
going to try and drive all the way back to Chicago without stopping just for
the hell of it, but I’ve discovered something interesting…my spine is killing
me. Angela is walking around the pet
exercise area and I’m laying on my stomach across the hood of the car, catching
some sun and stretching.
I’m
positive, just by looking at him, that Alex is a great kisser. He’s got these full, wonderful lips and a
strong jaw…His bottom lip is a little crooked, a little pouty….ahhhhhhh….and
those eyes, those green green eyes…I’ve mentioned them before but it warrants
mentioning them again.
I know, I
know…he smokes. He smokes, he
drinks…he’s a naughty boy…and when I see him, I’m sure that he’ll be all
sweaty…but I still want to just grab him, pull him to me and kiss him as hard
as I can. Bad breath be damned. I want to know what it’s like. There are two reactions he could have:
Me: (kissing him) Thanks, I just wanted to know what that was like.
Alex: (pulling me closer) Really.
I like your methods, Emily. Care
to learn anything else about me?
Or
Me: (kissing him) Thanks, I just wanted to know what that was like.
Alex: Security!
The thing
is, either way, I get my tongue in his mouth…one of my five lifetime goals.
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