Sublime

“Well, it ain’t his folks paying your bills, I don’t have to be a detective to know that.” Althea puts her hands behind her head and stretches, jutting out a truly mammoth bosom that shades half her desk.

She was no longer freakish, no longer stunted. Blooming into herself, at last.

she looked like a cricket-doll marionette with broken strings in a torn faded white dress with red blood on it.

I’m trying to pick up this ok-looking blond valley bitch at Powertools and she’s sort of into it but not drinking enough, only pretending to be drunk, but she goes for me, like they all do, and says she’s twenty.