Oops . . . Id Did It Again

My id loves to smoke and fuck. My id won the rest of me over to its evil ways last night. I blame Cheney and Edwards.

The evening began innocently enough. Best-friend-turned-suitor-lover (ok, a pseudonym: B. F. Lover) came over for some Chinese food and debate-watching. The lo mein was good; the Shiraz, excellent. B. F., though, was surly. I like him most of all when he is surly. About 30 minutes into the debate (and around the sixth glass of Shiraz), B.F. ... (Wait. Must change pseudonym. For whatever reason--maybe because the id-effect hasn't worn off--it makes me think "Butt Fuck" every time I type it. Hmmm. . . Cassio. That works.) So, Cassio and I--both pretty sloshed by question #4--realized that our critical viewing skills were seriously impaired and that our thoughtful commentary had devolved into drunken, slurred heckling of the VP, who had pretty much become indistinguishable from SNL's Darryl Hammond. I found evidence of this devolution this morning. My ash-covered notes (yes, I was taking notes and I was smoking) started as fairly lucid prose but ended with the following scrawl: "FUCKING DICK! RI-DICK-U-LOUSE!"

Sorry, I digress. Around the time that I must have been scrawling this line, Cassio says, "You are really pissing me off." I, assuming he's still talking to Cheney/Hammond, simply nod. When poor Cassio then--in utter disbelief--asks "That's your only response?!?", I supportively yell "Right on!". Finally somehow realized that he was talking to me, and we begin a debate of our own. The issue: this weekend we had "decided" to go back to being friends and only friends. It wasn't really a decision but the ultimate result of a ridiculous conversation--initiated by Cassio--about my discomfort and ambivalence with the new state of affairs between us (since the crazy good sex of two weeks ago). This conversation was doomed from the beginning, because 1) I do not believe in the Oprahesque hogwash that "keeping the lines of communication open" ensures the survival of a relationship. In fact, I have serious doubts that talking about everything is even GOOD for a relationship; and 2) Just prior to this conversation, Cassio had told me that he had told my ex-boyfriend (who is also his close friend) that we had slept together. Now, he felt compelled to tell the ex this because "He felt weird not telling him" and "thought he should know." Why? Why? Ugh, this drive to confess drives me crazy.

In any case, the debate--which very formally followed the format of the VP debate--consisted of me answering the charge of "being a freak" and "fucking things up." As I have indicated, I actually like it when Cassio is being a total dick. I also prefer the hostile debate format over the sensitive conversation format. Long story short (which it has to be, because I have to wait until Cassio wakes up and fills me in on the many missing details of the discussion to know the whole story), I am fairly certain that I won the debate and very certain that we ended up in bed.

This morning, I am feeling both glow-y and anxious. The cigarettes or Cassio? Hard to know. I would like to know exactly what I said. Seem to remember telling Cassio that I was in love with him--a blantant lie the likes of which I frequently tell when drunk. Must finish coffee and cigarette then go wake him up.

[Could someone please fill me in on what happened in the actual debate? Seems I have missed the morning re-hash. Did Dicky and Johnny end up in bed?]