The following consists of excerpts from conversations that took place between two Rocket.Chat users on January 3rd - October 26th, 2016.
January 3rd, 2016
260 Alameda North
I believe I’ll be on the fifth floor.
Ok, I’ll make a scene trying to find you.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?”
Wielding an electric toothbrush like a madwoman
“Tell me where she is or face the wrath of two AA batteries.”
and quick spinning bristles
I’ll grab you and say “we’re gunna be late for re-shingling that house!”
The twist is I’m actually going to leave you on a roof.
With or without my painkillers?
This whole being nice thing is just a façade.
like your sanity
My brains fell out around the time I started eating dirt.
You were an odd child.
Kids used to pay me to stuff my face with handfuls of clay and earthworms.
the halcyon days
I’m having a lot of trouble writing tonight.
You can tell me to screw off.
It’s not just you.
What’re you writing?
Always pining for the edge of a seat
Pen in hand but not in mind
Thots about pharmapologies
and mouthing mud to the Mar girl
do you think you’re edgy?
You’ve got a mind to make it heard
Head is high but not your words
January 5th, 2016
Are you nervous about Friday?
Not really. I’m more concerned about recovery time.
at least a month before I transcend vegetable status
Don’t be melodramatic.
I’m going to find something to surprise you with this weekend.
then lure you into my candy house and eat you
Your sugary abode is probably more palatable than me.
I’m the bone that Hansel offers the witch.
Witches gotta eat their veggies, even if the pickings have been relegated to beanpoles.
We’ll fatten you up.
January 11th, 2016
How’s my shining beacon for the pseudo-literary masses?
a broken lightbulb in the Krubera cave
How’s your face?
Still cool looking?
sore, just like the leg
I’m seeing how high I can stack Ritz crackers on my navel.
A half foot, then Jenga
You can do cheddar.
January 24th, 2016
I just went on the best walk. Huntington Park was empty, so I let the oversized rat off her leash, and lounged in the grass while she explored
Keep radiating that essence.
I’ll take you when you’re feeling up to it.
I couldn’t get out of bed today. I feel like that 10lb. slug from Brave Wilderness
The resemblance is uncanny.
Besides, you’re kind of a slimeball
An endearing one, from time to time.
February 12th, 2016
Are you awake?
Your couch is killing me.
Have I not earned my graduation to the master bedroom?
You’ll have to wine and dine me first.
❤ February 14th, 2016 ❤
How’s the get-together?
look who’s radiating their essence
Not bad. Loud.
getting reacquainted with socialite past… fancy fancy
Just walked in on a couple having sex in the bathroom.
What a treat
slapped a guy’s ass, then hobbled out
The one that got away.
What can I say? He had a voluptuous rump.
Sometimes you make me proud.
mostly you confound
April 17th, 2016
I know I’ve been absent lately. Woopsies. I need someone to pick me up after treatment on Tuesday.
Do I have a choice?
you always do
May 12th, 2016
Do you remember when all you needed for fun was a slinky and some kerosene?
What does that even mean?
It means I’m resolving to make my chaos external
I remember when all the kid down the road dragged me into was bike rides without helmets.
June 7th, 2016
your brains fell out when you started entertaining dirt
There are percs to being a halfwit
June 8th, 2016
I had an inspired thought but the thoughts kept on, and the inspiration absconded.
the white lady is no hillbilly
June 10th, 2016
You know, I always wished you’d just wear the stupid helmet.
the doggo’s teething
July 2nd, 2016
For $10, one can name a cockroach after their ex at the Bronx Zoo.
Where’s the Bronx Zoo?
The Bronx, presumably.
Y’know- not far from where gasoline flowed like rivers through cobblestone streets one shitty November evening, blinding the neighborhood children, sending them spiraling into a torrent of oily amaranthine folds. Where the whole thing lit up. KA-BOOM. N'est-ce pas?
August 10th, 2016
If you could live anywhere, where would that be?
September 1st, 2016
In a little triangle house, on the north peak of the Rappenstein mountain in Switzerland.
You’ve thought about this.
I know me. Do you know you?
I don’t know. A cloud, maybe?
September 14th, 2016
My spontaneity, my illusion of love for life, is in the sprawl of urban escape on a bathroom wall. A scarified heart in pockmarked plaster: two initials, a gag, or a declaration of youthful abandon. A means to see her chest? Digress? If only my girlfriend guest were impressed by the toilet seat mess where I’m at my best.
October 26th, 2016
You should pick up your junk
Can you swing by with it on Monday? I can’t leave the house.
I still have some treats with fuzz-for-brain’s name on them
I’ll stop by and bring her with me if you can clean up.
the pupper still thinks it’s you at the door
Sambo Chilton is a restless space cadet, writer, and musician residing in Ottawa, Ontario. He is currently finishing his second year in the Professional Writing program at Algonquin College, as well as a number of short stories, essays, and ditties to hum while contemplating one’s puny mortal existence.