Worst Case Scenario Handbook
There is a creature that resides in the dark recesses of my heart. It is a hideous, sightless thing that is a 1,000 years old. Usually it is chained to the basement of my soul with rusty hooks, its flesh grey like the dust on coffin lids. When it speaks, its voice is like eels that seek to tear apart everything I hold dear. It is my anger. It is Hate.
Kill him, it says, drop his body into a vat of acid. Smash his head in with a cricket bat and leave his carcass for carrion.
This morning I wake up early to head to work only to find Kittie's bed unoccupied. Well, well, well. How interesting. She went out the night before with my cousin, Jesse, and now her bed is empty.
Blood, whisperers the sightless thing, drench the world in blood. Connect electrodes to the genitals of criminals.Tear out the fingernails of strangers walking their pets. Shoot innocent people in cafeterias.
OK. So that "ancient creature of pain and misery" phase lasted only for a few minutes. Maybe hours. But by the time I got the inevitable WE NEED TO TALK text message I was pretty cool about the whole situation.
The situation being: someone I no longer go out with has decided to seek out a relationship with my cousin. Preventable? Sure. But what would be the point? Its clearly obvious that the ex and I were not working as a couple. We were just bad at being together, it brought out the worst in us. And when you break up with someone you break up with 'em. If the relationship is on shoddy foundations, rotten somewhere in the core, then its going to topple no matter how much you try. Don't I want my loved ones to be happy? And if they happen to find joy in each others' company then....well...
By the time Kittie came home I was busy watching a penguin documentary, seeing the momentous journey that these birds were undertaking and saying 'Wow.' every once in a while. This was the BBC version and not the Morgan Freeman one. I couldn't help but think that it would be a better show if someone like Will Ferrell did the voice over.
'Hey.'
'Hey.'
A sea lion grabs one of the young penguins and drags him down the icy depths.
'So....you wanted to talk?'
'Um...yeah.'
Vats of acid.
Intestines as skipping rope.
'Alright. Let's talk.'
'He...er...wants to do it himself.'
'Jesse?'
'....'
'He can call me. I don't hate him. Or you. What is he worried about? That I'd chop him up and feed his remains to carnivores? Ha ha. As if.'
Blowtorch to the gonads.
'I thought you were going to be...you know...weird about it.'
'I am weird about it. He's my cousin.'
'You guys aren't actually related,' Kittie reminds me.
'That's besides the point. Look, you and me, we're through...'
'Amen.'
'Shut up. The point is Jesse's a fantastic guy. Even though he is shorter than me. And got that Bruce Campbell chin. And I'm funnier than he is. And better at Galaga than him. But I'd much rather you be with someone I care about and who'd treat you well than some dipshit goofball. With syphilis.'
It's a strange situation. For me, its a nice way to finish my relationship with Kittie. No. Not relationship. Love life? Something like that. Something tacky and shit and dumb that you'd read in women's magazines (that YOU'D read. Not me. I'm too macho). I can't help but feel like Gene Hackman in the Royal Tennenbaums about the whole situation. Remember that film? Wes Anderson directed it. Gene plays a guy called Royle who was the patriarch of this genius family. One of his finest performances, which is funny considering Hackman didn't actually get the film. He just read the lines and got paid. Anyway, Royle, who fakes a terminal illness and takes up residence with his family that have long since kicked him out for generally shoddy behaviour (constantly reminding his adopted daughter that she's adopted, stealing money from his son's business etc.) tries for most of the film to win back his long estranged wife (played by Angelica Houston). But by the end of the film he slowly realises that he is actually an asshole and that his wife would be better off with a divorce that he had neglected to give her years ago. He talks of his rival, Danny Glover who plays Angelica Houston's accountant/ fiancee by saying, 'I didn't think much of him at first. But now I get it. He's not me.'
And that's how I feel right about now.
Kill him, it says, drop his body into a vat of acid. Smash his head in with a cricket bat and leave his carcass for carrion.
This morning I wake up early to head to work only to find Kittie's bed unoccupied. Well, well, well. How interesting. She went out the night before with my cousin, Jesse, and now her bed is empty.
Blood, whisperers the sightless thing, drench the world in blood. Connect electrodes to the genitals of criminals.Tear out the fingernails of strangers walking their pets. Shoot innocent people in cafeterias.
OK. So that "ancient creature of pain and misery" phase lasted only for a few minutes. Maybe hours. But by the time I got the inevitable WE NEED TO TALK text message I was pretty cool about the whole situation.
The situation being: someone I no longer go out with has decided to seek out a relationship with my cousin. Preventable? Sure. But what would be the point? Its clearly obvious that the ex and I were not working as a couple. We were just bad at being together, it brought out the worst in us. And when you break up with someone you break up with 'em. If the relationship is on shoddy foundations, rotten somewhere in the core, then its going to topple no matter how much you try. Don't I want my loved ones to be happy? And if they happen to find joy in each others' company then....well...
By the time Kittie came home I was busy watching a penguin documentary, seeing the momentous journey that these birds were undertaking and saying 'Wow.' every once in a while. This was the BBC version and not the Morgan Freeman one. I couldn't help but think that it would be a better show if someone like Will Ferrell did the voice over.
'Hey.'
'Hey.'
A sea lion grabs one of the young penguins and drags him down the icy depths.
'So....you wanted to talk?'
'Um...yeah.'
Vats of acid.
Intestines as skipping rope.
'Alright. Let's talk.'
'He...er...wants to do it himself.'
'Jesse?'
'....'
'He can call me. I don't hate him. Or you. What is he worried about? That I'd chop him up and feed his remains to carnivores? Ha ha. As if.'
Blowtorch to the gonads.
'I thought you were going to be...you know...weird about it.'
'I am weird about it. He's my cousin.'
'You guys aren't actually related,' Kittie reminds me.
'That's besides the point. Look, you and me, we're through...'
'Amen.'
'Shut up. The point is Jesse's a fantastic guy. Even though he is shorter than me. And got that Bruce Campbell chin. And I'm funnier than he is. And better at Galaga than him. But I'd much rather you be with someone I care about and who'd treat you well than some dipshit goofball. With syphilis.'
It's a strange situation. For me, its a nice way to finish my relationship with Kittie. No. Not relationship. Love life? Something like that. Something tacky and shit and dumb that you'd read in women's magazines (that YOU'D read. Not me. I'm too macho). I can't help but feel like Gene Hackman in the Royal Tennenbaums about the whole situation. Remember that film? Wes Anderson directed it. Gene plays a guy called Royle who was the patriarch of this genius family. One of his finest performances, which is funny considering Hackman didn't actually get the film. He just read the lines and got paid. Anyway, Royle, who fakes a terminal illness and takes up residence with his family that have long since kicked him out for generally shoddy behaviour (constantly reminding his adopted daughter that she's adopted, stealing money from his son's business etc.) tries for most of the film to win back his long estranged wife (played by Angelica Houston). But by the end of the film he slowly realises that he is actually an asshole and that his wife would be better off with a divorce that he had neglected to give her years ago. He talks of his rival, Danny Glover who plays Angelica Houston's accountant/ fiancee by saying, 'I didn't think much of him at first. But now I get it. He's not me.'
And that's how I feel right about now.
posted by Fatman | 7:48 pm
12 Comments:
You should say to Kitty: "I got you one, now you get me one". Fair's fair. If she can't be your girlfriend, a pimp is the next best thing.
hey, iv tried being his pimp but Fatman is one of those A-sexual people, who doesnt need relationships or is too busy, or has a headache and needs to wash his hair! Your loss Fatman!
Kittie is actually trying to set me up with people, almost on a daily basis, which is unsettling. I fear this endeavor is not for my happiness however, but rather a call-to-arms. She wants some sister figure that she can moan and complain to. Someone who can listen to woes, how much of a terrible person I am, how bad I am in bed, etc. and nod along as they sip chilled sauvignon blanc and watch Oprah.
Fatman, It sounds like Kittie is trying to find a new home for you...and your life sure is interesting. I am trying to decide if you are a very brave or stupid man with the current living arrangement. Oh well, whatever the hell works for you buddy! I certainly don't have the answers.
Good luck with all that anger, and if you can't squelch that desire to take a blowtorch to some gonads, I will give you the address of my ex...hey you could move into his place and take care of him while he is healing! Happy STBS Day! Oh, and thanks for the sense of humor on the 20 blog entries the other day...happy you could find multiple meanings in each one. Dammit, your blog hates me...I fear deja vu entries may be forming as I type this final sentence before I try to save it ONE more time. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr
P.S Fatman, have u done the washing??? Grrrr
A lot of Grrrring going on here.
Sassyassy- the blog loves you. Its just unused to the attention and is confused. The anger was fairly temporary by the way. In the time it takes to eat a chicken sandwich it had abated but I thought I'd put it in because I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a twang of emotion.
Kittie- Yes.
Kitty is reading all this? Man, that's what I call an open and frank relationship. You guys should try an asexual marriage. You have sex with other people, but otherwise live as a married couple.
Yawn here. I think I'll change my handle to Anonynous so I don't have to keep going through logon bullshit.
Anyway- Dayglo Abortions...go download Shit Happens. Yeah, they stole the title of their song off a bumper sticker, but it always cheers me up when I'm feeling down, which is about 16 hours a day.
Fatman I hope STBS was a happy one for you. Maybe you should come state-side and spread your brand of humour here! I know I could use more laughs.
Hey dude! Time for a new post! You have milked this one long enough. Surely something interesting is happening in your corner of the world.
Sassyassy- I'm working stupid hours (waking up at three in the morning, going home at ten at night) which means my posts are down to about one a month. I did have yesterday off which would have been an ideal day to write a few thoughts but instead I spent a few hours sorting stuff out for dad and finding a Mr.T talking keychain that says things like; "Quit yo' jibba-jabba!" and the immortal "I pity the fool!". It was a gift for a friend....lucky basatrd!
GB-You makes us sound like we have a pleasant relationship. Back when we were dating last year I made the mistake of sending her an email, completely forgetting that my blogsite appears on the bottom of everything I send. She clicked the link and found the site. Ever since then every time I write a seemingly innocuous comment she'll track me down and say things like; "So, do you really jerk off to mugshots of female prison inmates?"
Yawn- I know you work for the Ku Klux Klan now (temporarily) but the whole anonymous posting is too similar to their pillowcase wearing ways.
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