I despise Tar Asher. She was the supposed "Best Friend" I was fighting with. I call and apologize, being the bigger man and all, and all she has to say is "Mmmhmm..". Just some fucking unintelligble grunt. Me and her really need to talk but she keeps putting me off. Like she's constantly busy. She's a bitch, straight foward. You should see her talk. She uses words like "Hun", and "For shizzle". She is an overweight white vegan that pretends to be an outcast, But she talks like she's fucking the best thing to hit Jacksonville. Why am I friends with her? Because long ago, she wasn't like this. Before she had the friends. Before she had the band. Me, Her, Britt, and Victoria. the Outcast. The losers, nerds, faggots, rejects. What ever you wanted to call us, we were them. Long story short, Tar sucked the right dicks and earned a place with the interesting whores of Ware County. I dragged along, me being the only one of her friends that didn't screw her. Oh, don't think she didn't offer it to me. She said she loved me, she'd do anything for me. I wasn't hearing any of that. She cried, she flirted, she got me alone in her room. Finally I said, Look, I'm gay, alright?
So starts our long friendship. We did everything together. Could you beleve we skinny dipped on a cold Jacksonville beach? And changed under the peir. After that, we strut our stuff down the boardwalk, ciggerate (sorry i cant spell) in hand, waving at all the people. In a way, I had become Tar. But I'm tired of it. It's not who I am. Really, I don't know who I am. I'm desperate, I'm funny, I'm horny, I'm neat, I'm messy, I'm a walking contradiction, I'm Dr. fucking Phills. I just don't know anymore.
Today, I talk with tar. Tell her every little problem I have with her down to the very, last, line. You can bet I'll have a story for you tomorrow. Until then, I'm Mattie, and I'm Always on the move.