| Aug. 15th, 2002 @ 03:16 pm Casinos |
|---|
Now Feeling:  irate
Fucking casinos. All day yesterday I checked with Tom before every casino email I answered and it still went wrong. That's it. From now on I am forwarding every casino related mail to Tom and he can answer them his damn self since he can't tell me the same thing from one day to the next!
Whitman It's Not
"Lex!"
"What's that?"
"Nothing!"
"Then why are you hiding it behind your back?"
"There's nothing behind my back."
"Clark, I think we're a little too old for that game."
"Seriously, there's nothing."
*sigh* "Show me your hands then."
*hopeful grin*
"Both at the same time, Clark."
*smug expression*
"The old tuck it in the back of your pants trick, huh."
*guilty blush* "I swear, I don't have anything. You must be seeing things."
"You know if you don't tell me what it is I'm only going to imagine something much worse... perhaps an embarrassing love letter to Miss Lang..."
"It's nothing."
"Naked photos of the football team..."
"Lex!"
"I can keep going if you like."
"It's just a stupid poem... it's a class assignment."
"Sure it is. Why don't you let me look over it for you then, I've read quite a bit of poetry in my time."
"No, it's fine. really."
"I couldn't possibly let you take it into class without reading it through, giving you a few tips."
"You're not going to stop are you. It's just a stupid poem."
"I'm very determined. Show me the poem."
*vicious blush*
"Hhmmm... that should be spelled t-u-r-g-*i*-d."
*radioactive level blush*
*raised eyebrow leer* "If you're planning to hand this in to your English teacher I'd appreciate it if you made it a little less obvious who you're writing about."
"It's not..."
"Clark, really."
"Fine, it is! Go ahead and laugh all you want."
"I never laugh at my friends poems." *stifling smirk*
"I am definitely getting a padlock for the barn door."
"No, I'm flattered."
"Yeah, right."
"Really, I am. You're not really handing this in to your treacher are you?"
"Er... no. That was a lie."
"Clark Kent, I'm shocked. Writing erotic poetry, lying to your friends..."
"I'm never speaking to you again."
"You mean you're not going to recite this for me? Poetry is always at it's best when read aloud."
"The minute I get that paper back I'm burning it."
"Then you're not getting it back."
"Lex, give me it!"
"Come and get it, farm boy."
"Just give me it."
"What do I get in return?"
"Lex..." *pout*
"I'm leaving now, Clark, before I do something I could be convicted of."
"Huh?"
"Come over tomorrow, I'll read you some Whitman."
"Who?"
*footsteps going down stairs*
End
It's hot, I want to go home early. |
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
marysiak's journal
