It was suppose to be touch football, but Merrin threw Ig down on every play, diving at his feet, until it was a gag that cracked everyone up—Ig wiped out by this sixteen-year-old girl built like a blade of grass. No one thought it was funnier, or enjoyed it more, than Ig himself, who went out of his way to giver chances to cream him.
“You should drop your butt on the ground as sson as they snap the ball,” she said, the fifth or sixth time she wiped him out. “‘Cause I can do this all day. You know what? What’s funny?” Because he was laughing.
She was kneeling over him, her red hair tickling his nose. She smelled of lemons and mint. The necklace hung from her throat, flashing at him again, transmitting a message of almost unbearable pleasure.
“Nothing,” he said. “I think I’m reading you loud and clear.”
I am a servant. A slave to your smile. What a simpleton you’ve made me! Catching myself elated after every inconsequential wink and beam you throw to the wind; weightless in your wake. What I wouldn’t do for that next moment, just to see the ends of your lips curl and that silvery laughter pour from your mouth.
Laugh again, and let me cup my eager hands to save your laughter for moments when I need it most, like rainy days without you and nights where I eat dinner alone.
On some days, I promise to ration it, limiting myself to a soft chuckle or giggle. Moderation.
But on other days, when I feel especially anxious or indulgent, I will give way and release your laugh from it’s mason jars and let it ring through the proscenium arches, through footless halls of air for everyone to hear. What they wouldn’t do for that next moment.
Chris Evans will play Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America.
Sources tell us the actor has not only accepted Marvel’s offer, first detailed on Friday, but that the dealmaking moved so fast it’s now all about dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s.
Marvel would not comment on the development, and CAA, which reps the actor, declined comment.
Evans was offered the role in Marvel Studios’ production last week, but there was some question of whether he would accept. Factoring in to the choice was the fact that Evans played Johnny Storm, the flame-covered superhero known as the Human Torch in Fox’s “Fantastic Four” movies.
Considering Marvel had most of the young men in Hollywood read for the role of Captain America, it’s nice to see they settled on offering the role to Chris Evans. I still feel that Marvel should have cast Steve Rogers older (think Aaron Eckhart) but at least they went with some charismatic like Chris Evans.
It was looking like Marvel wanted either Channing Tatum or Chris Evans, they really made a wise decision here. It will be interesting to see Evans suit up as Captain America and subsequently as the leader of the Avengers, since signing on as Captain America means Chris Evans now has a nine picture deal with Marvel (Captain America, Avengers, appearances in other Marvel films, etc…) Hopefully Marvel will pay him more in the long run since the amount offered to play Captain America is surprisingly small for a role that is a nine film commitment.
On my way to class today I saw a lady reading a book while driving. The speed limit? 45 mph. Are you kidding me? Idiot. I’m pretty sure it was a bible too. Heaven help her and the people she’s might kill.
Also watched a guy eat (in one sitting) about ten oreos, a can of coke, and an energy drink. I don’t know how he did it or if he does that on the regular (I’m guessing yes) but all I know is that his body is going to give up one of these days. Well, to each his own.
To live without you is to live in tiresome excess. For the longest time, I would make twice as much coffee and toast than I could ever finish in the mornings, and I often still do. On our walks together I only knew when to turn around when you would get tired and say “If we go one step further you’ll have to carry me back!” and we’d go back, hand in hand. But now, I just end up too far from home, empty handed and exhausted.
One day, like so many other days while you were here, I took a shower and forgot my towel. I’d say, “I forgot my towel again!” and I would hear you laugh from the other room and come sauntering in, stopping to watch me stand there, wet and naked, before handing me the towel, and you’d take me by the hand to bed.
But on this day I got out of the shower and tip-toed to my half-empty closet, dripping a trail of water in my wake. I felt the warmth of blood from the back of my head, then my shoulders. I laid there, my back on the floor. I didn’t remember slipping and falling; all I remembered was the pain, the pooling blood, and the feeling of wanting to die. I wanted to die right there on the bedroom floor.
When I woke up, I realized that I couldn’t die. I could not die without you. I would have to go on making too much toast & coffee and walking too far. I would have to go on feeling lifeless, in perpetual limbo. I am unable live without you, unable to die without you.
Come back and revive me. Come back and put me to rest.
Hundreds of them. Literally hundreds. They ran down the narrow outdoor corridor in a roiling sloppy mess, like a spirit stampede, some of them covering their heads with pom poms, a few smart ones had umbrellas. The sky showered wave after wave of hailstones upon them as they ran.
I watched them with some distress from my panopticon, a windowed promontory that stood tall above the gentle bowl of the San Fernando Valley. I stood above them, stood above the hillside now white with hail, and could only watch. I could barely hear their cries over the thunder of the stones. I imagined what they must have been saying.
Give me an H. Give me an E. Give me an L. Give me a P.
“Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them - if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry.”—J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye, Chapter 24, spoken by the character Mr. Antolini (via nedhepburn)