Undiscovered Gyrl: The novel that inspired the movie ASK ME ANYTHING (Vintage Contemporaries) by Allison Burnett Page B
Authors: Allison Burnett
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That’s what I want. Sex with him just once. Then I will fall asleep on his safe chest, and in the morning before we part forever I will tell him how I truly feel, even though I know he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I am going to call right now. If Martine answers, so what?
LATER: 1:23 a.m.
I did it! I called Dan! He picked up on the first ring. I could tell by the way he whispered that Martine was pretty close by. Maybe even in the same room. He knew all about my earlier hang-up call but wasn’t that mad, although he reminded me of our deal.
“I call you, remember? I call you.”
“But you never do!” I said really shaky, like I was about to start crying.
This melted his heart a little.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. So what is it, sweetheart? What’s going on?”
“Nothing really. I just miss you and I wanted you to know that I got a great new job today and it comes with the use of a car. Which means if you ever want to me to come over to watch a film, I can. I want to. Any night. Any time. Just tell me when. I’ll be there.”
I said it in a soft intense sexual way. It definitely worked. His breathing changed. He was remembering our last night together. How hot it was. How I touched him. Boner rising! Hahaha! When he finally talked, his voice was full of manly desire.
“When do you get the car?”
“Monday morning.”
More heavy breathing.
I could hear him flipping through his calendar.
“Friday night. Come over at seven.”
Even though I was disappointed that it was so far in the future, I said perfect and he gave me the directions.
It’s 1:47 and guess what? Now that Dan has invited me over I’m not that psyched about our date. I’m actually pretty sad and scared about it, to tell you the truth. Crazy, I know. Buthe’s way too old for me and it’s a shitty thing to do to Rory. I’m not respecting him or myself. So why don’t I just cancel the date? Because I can’t. I lack will power.
Why am I still awake? I need to look cute for work on Monday. Sleep, gyrl. Ha! I doubt it.
Monday, December 3, 2007
The first day of my new job is over. It is only eight o’clock but I am going to go to sleep now. Why? So I can wake up and do it all over again tomorrow. Yipppeee. If I owned a handgun I would definitely shoot myself right now. No lie. Babies are the worst things ever invented.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
I have purchased a handgun but I am too tired to load it. Just kidding. Babies are screaming poop machines.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Okay, so I didn’t post for three days. What’s the big deal? Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about you guys GET A LIFE! I am working hard to get one and if I succeed, guess what? I will quit blogging immediately. Why? Because people withlives don’t blog. They don’t even read blogs. Didn’t you know that? LOL! It’s true!
Can you tell I am dangerously caffeinated?
Where do I begin? Mr. Spooner’s wife’s full name is Margaret Elizabeth Whitley-Spooner. If that isn’t a Waspy name I don’t know what is. She looks like a wider-hipped and wider-shouldered version of myself. When I say that she is wider please don’t think she’s fat. She’s just, as my dad would say, “broad of beam.” He would probably also say “I don’t know whether to hand her my cock or a field hockey stick.” Or his favorite advice which is “Never screw a girl who can beat you in an arm wrestle.” In other words, she is athletic but not fat. Although she is not cute and sexy (like me!), she is definitely beautiful. You could shave her head and add 30 pounds to her butt and she would still look awesome. Fabulous bone structure and smile. The kind of woman a rich guy marries if he’s smart because she’ll never cheat on him or spend too much of his money, and she’ll make his house look like it’s out of a magazine.
I love my mom but she is the exact opposite of Margaret Spooner in every way. For example, the inside of
LATER: 1:23 a.m.
I did it! I called Dan! He picked up on the first ring. I could tell by the way he whispered that Martine was pretty close by. Maybe even in the same room. He knew all about my earlier hang-up call but wasn’t that mad, although he reminded me of our deal.
“I call you, remember? I call you.”
“But you never do!” I said really shaky, like I was about to start crying.
This melted his heart a little.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. So what is it, sweetheart? What’s going on?”
“Nothing really. I just miss you and I wanted you to know that I got a great new job today and it comes with the use of a car. Which means if you ever want to me to come over to watch a film, I can. I want to. Any night. Any time. Just tell me when. I’ll be there.”
I said it in a soft intense sexual way. It definitely worked. His breathing changed. He was remembering our last night together. How hot it was. How I touched him. Boner rising! Hahaha! When he finally talked, his voice was full of manly desire.
“When do you get the car?”
“Monday morning.”
More heavy breathing.
I could hear him flipping through his calendar.
“Friday night. Come over at seven.”
Even though I was disappointed that it was so far in the future, I said perfect and he gave me the directions.
It’s 1:47 and guess what? Now that Dan has invited me over I’m not that psyched about our date. I’m actually pretty sad and scared about it, to tell you the truth. Crazy, I know. Buthe’s way too old for me and it’s a shitty thing to do to Rory. I’m not respecting him or myself. So why don’t I just cancel the date? Because I can’t. I lack will power.
Why am I still awake? I need to look cute for work on Monday. Sleep, gyrl. Ha! I doubt it.
Monday, December 3, 2007
The first day of my new job is over. It is only eight o’clock but I am going to go to sleep now. Why? So I can wake up and do it all over again tomorrow. Yipppeee. If I owned a handgun I would definitely shoot myself right now. No lie. Babies are the worst things ever invented.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
I have purchased a handgun but I am too tired to load it. Just kidding. Babies are screaming poop machines.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Okay, so I didn’t post for three days. What’s the big deal? Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about you guys GET A LIFE! I am working hard to get one and if I succeed, guess what? I will quit blogging immediately. Why? Because people withlives don’t blog. They don’t even read blogs. Didn’t you know that? LOL! It’s true!
Can you tell I am dangerously caffeinated?
Where do I begin? Mr. Spooner’s wife’s full name is Margaret Elizabeth Whitley-Spooner. If that isn’t a Waspy name I don’t know what is. She looks like a wider-hipped and wider-shouldered version of myself. When I say that she is wider please don’t think she’s fat. She’s just, as my dad would say, “broad of beam.” He would probably also say “I don’t know whether to hand her my cock or a field hockey stick.” Or his favorite advice which is “Never screw a girl who can beat you in an arm wrestle.” In other words, she is athletic but not fat. Although she is not cute and sexy (like me!), she is definitely beautiful. You could shave her head and add 30 pounds to her butt and she would still look awesome. Fabulous bone structure and smile. The kind of woman a rich guy marries if he’s smart because she’ll never cheat on him or spend too much of his money, and she’ll make his house look like it’s out of a magazine.
I love my mom but she is the exact opposite of Margaret Spooner in every way. For example, the inside of
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