Where does the enigmatic, Sex voiced Junkie go when the nightwatch is over?

Here. Let me tell you; that you may unknowngly bask in my sticky glory.

Home is the fourth floor of this particular filing cabinet for the better off than most- but still have to fucking work like a dog class. I live the bachelor life, i have certain habits that most women just refuse to live around.

For one thing, Im a major stoner. There is a small green house on my balcony where I grow some primo herbs. The old bat next door spotted them once, she now tells everyone I grow the best damn Oregano shes ever borrowed.

My one bedroom apartment has the definite single male touch to it. Meaning: Its a cave with furniture.

There are always dishes in the sink even if i dont cook and there is always take-out leftovers in the fridge even if i claim im on a diet. The Magic happens in the livingroom though, let me tell you: I have a great set of couches and a massive TV complete with blu-ray and PS3. It makes all the ladies squeal.

My bedroom could pass for any college dorm, there is alot of girls clothes, mostly undergarments... strange how noone claims them, ever, huh?  

--Last edited by Junkie Drake on 2009-01-27 12:25:04 --

The apartment on the other side of the old lady has a younger woman in it. The girl must be sharing with someone because she barely seems legal to be renting a property. Drake hasn't seen her much, honestly. He's too stoned to remember anyway, and they keep odd hours. But one time is too many.

Maybe he's got some music up too loud. Maybe he's been cursing one of those stupid ass video games or has been bonking a girl (or guy) with far too much enthusiasm that tonight, yeah, it was the last straw.

There's a pounding on his front door.

"HEY! Can you SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Bang Bang Bang!

That she's screaming down the hallway, making far more noise then he seemed to (which is debatable depending on where one lives) doesn't really occur to her. She stands out there in a pair of sweat pants, bare foot, and with one of those comfortable wife-beaters on that some girls like to sleep in. Her black hair is tussled from where she had ran her hands through it several times or just plain wanted to rip it out from the sockets from the last hour of noise coming from his place.

"OI!" More banging on his door, that left her hand stinging. "SHUT UP ALREADY!"

Sometimes I do acid. When I do Acid I like the music loud, real loud. The banging and screaming at my door snaps me right out of my pleasant hallucination though. The walls flash with panicked color and I tip over my bong, spilling water on the floor in my haste to stand up.

I dont turn down the music. Im motherfuckin Junkie Drake! Lord of the Underworld, Sluethe of the supernatural, Master of all things Hidden! I go tear open the door and stand there in all my not-wearing-pants-dick-showing-through-boxers glory. I have one long wool sock on and the other one looks like it should be on a 12 year old girl... not a grown man. My shirt is a mock up of a tuxedo painted on a teeshirt, my grin is sloppy and my eyes are wide and wild.

'If you aint got no badge or gun then suck it!!!'

I yell back at this poor girl and grab my crotch dramatically.

Ugh.

Her nose wrinkled and her lip curled at the unpleasantness.

"Wha? That?" Nodding down towards where he grabbed himself. Her scoff is everything insulting. "Aint nothing to suck, Short Dick Man."

"Now turn that fucking shit down before I put in a complaint, asshole."

I grunt, insulted and confused by her statement. I look huge when I wear stolen thongs.

'Your moms gonna put in a complaint!'

I retort, genius. The walls are bleeding behind this chick and I swear to Krishna she has snakes in her hair. My trip is being ruined.

'Ill turn it down, jesus christ, go be a nazi-twat somewhere else.'

"My ma would make you cry like a bitch. Shut your mouth, man." With a last sneer, the young woman marches back down the hall, leaving Drake to his bleeding walls and python dreams. She disappears back into her own apartment next door and shuts the door firmly.

One can bet their ass she will be back out again if that music isn't turned down in five minutes.