#unhappy hour

[apoemaday]

Unhappy Hour

by Richard Siken

Going to a party where I knew you’d be, dudes bobbing for boyfriends, eyes shining like candy apples. I want to be a lamppost, or the history of plumbing. I am tired of being mysterious. You are drinking rum next to the laughing skullheads and I am unhappy because I am dead and I miss you. Once a year, day of the dead, you think you’d think of me more often. These people shoulda dressed up as their best selves to mix and mingle in the courtyard garden. If everything is green then why do I feel so blue? I would like to be a plain-faced man, living with you quietly. Leave the party but you can’t hear me you can no longer hear me. The dead are boring. Enlightenment is boring. We can read the minds of dogs. We make the black cats scatter across the grass. There is a better party where I am not a ghost and you are not Aquaman. I am like a pornstar, we are all of us pornstars aching to get back into our terrycloth robes. Gives me a headache, all this intellectual stimulation. It’s cold out tonight. I am here by the back wall, in the museum of the afterlife. I would like to be a flickering cowboy. I like the live music -- we only get the recorded stuff here. I would like to be alive again. I would like to say something about grace.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Richard Siken, Unhappy Hour || Charles Rowland, Dead Boy Detectives (2024)

[formerlympp]

Unhappy Hour

Lily was starting to detest happy hours.

Inaptly named things they were, she’d privately started calling them misery hours. She’d have to make it her New Year’s resolution to grow a backbone and start declining the invitations. That, or stop drinking, which might be easier than saying no to kindly Muriel, her generally reserved coworker who turned into a sailor after a couple of G&Ts. After all, her inability to say no to Muriel was precisely what landed her in her current predicament.

“Why don’t you just beg off?” Mary, her roommate, called from the corner of their cramped kitchen. Lily had long thought that her backbone had been imparted to Mary, who had no qualms about shutting people down over the slightest menial transgression.

“Can’t,” Lily called back, the best she could manage without toothpaste slipping down her chin.

“Can’t or won’t? No, don’t bother answering that.” A threatening pause came next, quickly followed by the crinkling sound of paper that Lily knew meant Mary was stuffing a sweet into her mouth. “Oo’ zit, gin?”

“Muriel’s sister-in-law’s cousin’s best friend’s son. Jeff something-or-other.”

“’O no-un.”

“He’s someone surely.”

“No one to you,” Mary clarified in a slightly less muffled voice. “He’s probably no keener to meet than you are.”

“Well thanks for the vote of confidence, Mare.”

Mary appeared in the doorway just as Lily slipped her toothbrush back in its holder. The pair of friends caught each other’s eye in the mirror as Lily started unpinning the rollers from her hair.

“C’mon, since when does anyone look forward to a blind date? Speaking of, you’ve put in a fair bit of effort for this Muriel’s… sister’s… er… whoever’s son. More effort than I’d expect for someone apparently dreading her evening.”

Lily merely shrugged as a reply, uninterested in justifying her pre-date ritual. It was a good ritual, and besides, she deserved to feel like the best version of herself whenever she wanted to.

“Shit,” she exhaled, after catching a look at her watch, “I’m going to be late.”

**

Shockingly, Lily arrived at The Shack, a hip, low-lit bar—“frequented by the young people,” Muriel had told her—ten minutes earlier than the agreed-upon time. She couldn’t stop herself from studying her reflection in the dark glass windows; she brushed her fingers through the mess of curls her hair had become in transit. Breathing deeply and squaring her shoulders, she pushed her way into the bar.

Clusters of people stood every few feet, making the pathway between the tables and chairs into a labyrinth. She wove her way through, an odd determination in her step that clashed with her internal desire to walk right back out the front door. She was supposed to meet Jeff at the bar for drinks and starters and hopefully riveting conversation (Lily wasn’t holding her breath). The semi-circle bartop stretched along a large expanse of the room, barely inhabited at this time of a Friday evening, and Lily couldn’t help herself from admiring the rather nice-looking man tending the bar at the far end.

Eventually, she rounded the bar in search of Jeff, who had been described to her as: tall and handsome. (She didn’t mind a cliché now and again.) Scholarly, and a sharp dresser, if not a bit disheveled. (Whatever that meant.) Dark hair and framed glasses. (She did not mind a nice set of specs to be sure.)

Then she spotted him, sitting across from a stretch of beer taps, shoulders bowed slightly as he studied his phone. As Lily drew closer she watched him press his glasses back up his nose. Even from the admittedly shrinking distance, she could tell he would give the bartender a run for his money. For a moment, a brief, unrelenting irrational moment, excitement flooded her system; it burned in her veins, sent bubbles straight to the logical part of her brain, then—

“Hi, you must be J—” A set of hazel eyes locked with hers and her jaw dipped lower, all the buzz of excitement leaving her. “You’re not…” Jeff.

Oh no.

Oh—but, wait had it been Jeff? Maybe she had heard the wrong name—

“Oh Christ, you are the Lily that Auntie Mabel… I had no idea, Evans, I assure you.”

Of that she was fairly certain he was telling the truth. He was many things, but a liar was not among them. Besides, only an evil force in the universe could explain why out of the billions of people on this planet, Lily had been set up on a blind date with her ex-boyfriend, James Potter.

[prettyflyshyguy]

Cut the cake.

[rain-coat-killer]

"B-r-o-t-h-e-r, you got it?"

[pinkinsect]

i am nothing like him. my anger is only righteous. i am righteous.

[ominouspuff]

GUT. PUNCHER. PLEASE. Ö

(also I see the Plo Coon WIP and I’m in the microwave)

In an instant CC-2224 sees the blue on the other clone and recognizes his enemy — knows it is CT-7567 and knows the name he took and the color of his hair.

All that is in him that is screaming — was (always?) screaming — quietens. His finger does not depress upon the trigger. His hand does not twitch towards the backup blaster on his hip.

An instant, a moment, a breath, and a single thought—

I’m no soldier.

CT-7567’s finger is as quick as he knew it would be. Between one moment and the next, Cody is free.

———

Re: Plo Coon — huehue, yess get microwaved (affectionate) (I’m very excited to show you)

[rolandkaros]

DARIA KASATKINA [RUS] d. MIRRA ANDREEVA [RUS] || NINGBO OPEN FINAL || 10 20 2024

[grimbothefool]

There they are. look at em. my beautiful boys (and 2 rats), fresh out the microwave in my brain that i rotate my ocs in

[steveharrington]

does working full time making anyone else irrationally bitter and resentful or is that just a me issue

[todayisafridaynight]

redraw

[umblrspectrum]

too lazy to color but not too lazy to shade. how the fuck does that work

[yingren]

tbd, tiny activity update.

i've not felt super happy about my writing lately like there are some things that bother me with my own writing and then i get a lil bit of a writers block bc of it. things have been left sittin for longer than usual but i will get to them soon. if i'm slow or i seem "picky" with what i reply to, you know why. nothing personal, it's all me.

[missingbk-dkhours]

I think I miss my wife...

(bkdk)

[send-me-a-kae-via-subspace]

she gunpowder on my tim till i. um. till i blow up the moon in a murderous rage over the death of a dear friend

[bee-sidebranch]

Thoughts on Iterators- a Series(??) part 2a- Generations

eeeh it's so late i fucked my sleep schedule it's midnight ahhhh-

i actually really wanna go into detail about what innovations came with which generation

(example g.3 introduced the skin as another layer of insulation which got added to a lot of models retroactively as it greatly reduced energy cost of thermoregulation) but i won't get anywhere if i go into every little detail

i gotta stop being slightly coherent and just start rambling like a mad man

part 1