fatman Find the clues!

Monday, January 29, 2007

Cherchez la Femme

Kittie informed me that Cousin Jesse had been gripped by an unshakable bout of insomnia. His arteries had been clogged with guilt, he was sweating from self-loathing and his eyelids refused to shut at all. It's because he's destined to go to the dankest pits of Hell for going out with my ex-girlfriend, I wanted to say, below cells reserved for murderers, shady Real Estate agents, debt collectors and people who think they can are better than other people just because they own an Art Gallery. Instead I said, 'Yeah, OK. He and I need to talk this through.'
'Are you going to be mature about this?' asked Kittie worriedly.
She eyed me dubiously. 'You better not tell him strange, sordid tales about us.'
'I won't.'
'Don't scare him away with your...ways. You know this situation is really eating him up. I don't need you to make it worse. Just act like a normal human being.'
'I promise it will be fine.'

'...and you know that morning voice that she has? How shrill and utterly unbearable that is? Well, get used to that. She's annoyingly chirpy upon waking. Every goddamn morning.'
'Really?' asks Cousin Jesse.

We are sitting around and drinking beer in the abandoned portion of the Mount View Hotel. After the initial awkwardness (about 12 seconds) we have gone back to the way things used to be. I figured we would. It would not be a woman that would break up this band.

'Oh yeah. Also expect your phone bill to increase by threefold. Seriously. She texts you messages at all times of the day for no apparent reason.'
'I can handle the odd-', his phone beeps. We stare at it. 'I see,' he mutters.
'Ooh! Ooh! And Kittie can't say "Hot Apple Pie"!'
'What do you mean?'
'She can say the words "Hot" and "Apple" and "Pie" but not all at once. Her brain can't handle it for some reason.'

We laugh.

'Look, if you want me to end this relationship with Kittie before it really starts...'
'Meh. Jesse, I don't know how you were expecting me to behave throughout this-' Vats of acid, Blowtorch to the gonads,'- but I love you man. We're kin. We're not going to face each other over this, pistols at dawn.'
'I know, I know.'
'So chill out. Enjoy. Get some sleep my brother.'
'You know that if I were given a choice between you and her-'
'Stop it.'
'Nah, seriously. If they had the both of you on platforms above a lava pit and I had to choose between the two of you-'
'Shut up.'
'-I'd absolutely choose your life over hers. Hands down.'

Cousin Jesse and I get up to leave. 'Hey Fatty,' he says in a quiet way.
'If you were ever going to write about this make sure I don't end up sounding like a cheap, two-dimensional character with absolutely no soul who is relegated to saying dumb stuff.'
'I promise,' I say and flash him a serpentine smile.


Blogger SassyAssy said...

Awww, and the two shared sweet nothings about their common love interest. I would be interested to know how "hot apple pie" can possibly be said any other way.

Remind me not to text message more than 5x a day to any one man...apparently some view that as stalking, huh Fatman?

7:18 am  
Blogger Yawn said...

Methamphetamine is a disatrous invention, and let me tell you why.

They invented forced sodomy several thousand years ago to deal with situations like this. I think it's still legal in Afghanistan, but I could be wrong. Back in the day you could anally rape someone and leave them farting blood and semen as a reminder that their heretofore behavior was inappropriate.

Then some fucker invented meth and they all get on it and ENJOY forced sodomy, completely undermining the sense of shame, humiliation, and degradation that they should be feeling. I say bring back the good old days, when a spade was a spade, some sex acts were illegal, and a woman's behavior determined the type of dick she got to scratch that itch.

Without the option of forced sodomy and its subsequent effects on the recipient, civilization is damned.

6:44 pm  

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