Keith Dogs It And Jett’s Prank Call (Part 3)

Running The Ball Hard

Sunday 7:34 p.m.

There are only so many hours in a day, and amongst them, so much memories unaccounted for. Like in Football, either I’m tossing the ball from side to side, trying to avert lapsing time or I’m kicking high in the air, waiting for the ball of chronology to come tumbling down. Too much fancy plays often prolong the real objective and what I need to do is run the ball hard until it’s time to kick. The first five plays are like the weekdays, where yards are worthy and fancy depiction is not needed.

The weekend is like the last play, where in Gridiron turns, you have to run those nine yards. This is where I should already have completed my weekday’s worth of work, ready for the real emotions to score points. Therefore, away from layman’s terms I hope to see a change in the quantity and quality values of my literature. In essence, as there aren’t enough hours to keep up with my life without having to take away from it, I decide to cut description of lesser objectives through the day to a minimum.

The larger portions of importance and philosophy won’t be chopped, neither will my emotional baggage. The last play will always be fancy but I know that I want to keep some energy within me and short runs will do so. I miss the days where I would always be up to date with chronology and have so much time left over for philosophy, poetry and my life. Running around the problem hasn’t worked, now I’m trying to run over it.

Fed Up With Keith

Getting now to most recent of knowledge, my conversation with Shawn. Having just called him a couple of minutes ago to get the juice on what happened last night, I heard some interesting information. Shawn pledged that it was a great night at Carmen’s (The actual nightclub) in which it was packed out. Shawn vowed that he danced up on some girls and as I asked who went along, he was quick to note that Keith dogged the night.

When I heard that Keith was thinking of bringing Tamsen along I sensed disaster but what was more disastrous was how Keith had Ralf and Shawn waiting for more than an hour. The both of them were trying to call him but Keith diverted his phone at times and at others had it switched off. Finally they headed off with a fuming head of animosity, pledging their most inner thoughts about his doggedness. My shade to the story goes as such. Just like Tatton was phased out of our group because he kept being such a dog, Keith will soon follow suit.

Ralf and Shawn seemed to be agreeing fundamentally upon their views about Keith needing to get the flick for being so selfish. Why Keith didn’t end up going for the night is probably because he wouldn’t have felt comfortable seeing Tamsen dancing near guys at a place where they lust after attention and as you know, Keith is now belittled by Tamsen’s breaking them up. Each time that Keith tells me he’s back with Tamsen fully, I feel that he’s trying to assure himself so that he can hold some sense of security, knowing that everyone is against his views and talks behind his back.

Keith can feel the sting of everyone’s contradicting views and he knows that after the two of them broke up, he didn’t fit into anything. Keith was always moping around and making people have a bad time because of him. Keith was feeding everyone with his bad morality and now that he’s back with Tamsen, he’s unsure about where he stands and is trying to lie his way back into his old groove of uncertainty. Keith told everyone that he would start anew with Tamsen but he’s only continued from where he left off, just being a bigger dog than usual, trying to suck up her ass.

Basically, what she says goes and as you can tell, Keith needs a big sign saying “Pussy-Whipped’ on his forehead and as his license plate. There is no bigger example of being led around by the dick than this sorry sight before us and there is no simpler case of losing a place of fitting in than Keith has perceived to attend to. Sad boy, such a sad boy…

Calling Lyssa Back

Just some more knowledgeable news recently admitted. Within the last twenty minutes I decided to give Lyssa a call. The desire to have Lyssa over my house for tonight died off piecemeal after leaving her house. The void had been filed of loneliness and once at home, I didn’t fully feel like I was void enough to have Lyssa here again and I also felt as if sleeping alone for another night would leave me hanging.

Therefore, as I rang up Lyssa, I didn’t call with the intent of inviting her over to my house. Rather, I felt the obligation to call Lyssa as I had made the arrangements to ask her over my house. Our conversation wasn’t full of much conversation as Lyssa was unusually tired despite sleeping until 1:00 p.m. As I told Lyssa about my trip home and the Lebanese girl and the Irish guy, she sought to inform me that Nikita came over for a little while and that’s about it.

Lyssa started to get easily flustered when I noted how Brisbane was in the top eight. She didn’t seem to care as expected but playfully asking her to vouch for Brisbane if anyone asked her, she didn’t buy into my sarcasm. “Did you want me to let you go and get some rest” I asked Lyssa who let out a little hesitation in saying the start of “No” and then changing her mind.

Before Lyssa and I parted ways, she felt the need to note that she would call me back later and as we said goodbye, I was sure she felt the obligation to my prior request. Right now I would be inclined to say that Lyssa won’t call me back tonight which will leave a part void upon me. However, if in my mind I do will Lyssa to call me, she will take heed with her sixth sense and do so.

Therefore, it is upon my will and faithful belief that judges if Lyssa will call me back tonight. Seeing Lyssa again tonight and sleeping next to her will feel like too much of Lyssa. Back in the day we used to sleep next to each other days on end but now, with our distancing and living separate lives, once in a blue moon is enough.

Jett Wants A Favor

The second phone call was received from Jett just minutes after my phone call with Lyssa. Jett’s immediate words were “Have you got a pen and paper handy”. “Is a computer good enough” I noted and with that I jotted down a mobile number. Knowing exactly what this would be for, I read Jett’s mind when he wanted me to ring up this Lebanese guy that he’s been continually harassing. Now at first I wasn’t going to try and call him because the inspiration and desire wasn’t there and after it came out strangely busy, I was going to quit. However, I rang again seconds later and as it rang through, I was ready for anything.

“Hello, how are you doing,” I exclaimed. “Who are you, this is me,” he asked back in his rustic Lebanese voice, probably thinking I asked who he was. Placing the only humor I handle I replied, “This is me, who are you” and to his dull wits he replied “Never mind who I am.” From there he pledged me to stop calling his number and as he had me confused with someone that calls him all the time I noted in laughter, “Hey, this is the first time I’ve called you.” Still, he thought that my voice sounded like Jett’s and to his obvious voice I asked, “Look, what, are you Lebanese!”

The fun began here as he responded that he was and as I commented that I came from Campbelltown and had a list of Lebanese associates, I asked what parts he came from. Seemingly amiable, he noted that he came from Auburn in which I then asked “Do you know any Lebs from down in Campbelltown.” Naming the names I knew, he told me that he knew Harlan and as I noted Irving, they both seemed to know them.

Playing Naqi On The Phone

“Alright then, let me ring Mohammed and see if he knows you,” he asked and as he asked my name I replied “My name’s Naqi.” Feeling himself beaten from words as he got what he thought he wanted, I asked “So what are you going to do, you’re going to ring someone up to see who I am.” When he replied favorably I added, “Why do you need to do something stupid like that, you already know who I am.”

Pledging that it was the first time that I called him despite his constantly reminding me that I’ve called him before he noted that he wanted me to stop calling his phone. “Look, if you want to settle this someway else, pick out a park and we’ll go there and have a blue.” Figuring he was being a telephone warrior, hiding behind the wires, I thought to play his game. Somehow we got down to the grit as he said, “Look, shut up” and I replied, “Hey you don’t tell me to shut up,” in a controlling stern voice.

Raising the dementia in my calmed voice I uttered, “Look don’t get smart with me boy.” This guy seemed funny as I played my role and stood my ground. Ending the conversation with a couple of swear words in Lebanese, he added a couple of words of his own and then hung up the phone on me.

Trying to give him a call back it rung out and then he disconnected his phone. Ringing Jett back up I noted the hilarious conversation that just took place as we both had a big laugh. Chatting for a couple of minutes and noting that he left one of his Playstation controller pads at my house, he vowed to come over on Saturday and play some more.