Monday, June 27, 2011

A Blockbuster Night

An obese elderly woman in the video store wanted me to recommend a couple of ‘funny movies’. I pointed out Zombieland and Grandmas Boy. movies I had just enjoyed at my ex-girlfriends residence a few days earlier (after masturbating in the kitchen sink).

I had ventured to her place to retrieve my belongings; my laminated foreskin and a bootleg copy of Star Trek Genesis.

Anyways, this woman at the store asks the clerk up front, “I want to know if any of these movies make SENSE? I don’t like watching movies that don’t make sense.”


That had to be one of the dumbest things I’ve EVER heard. A movie called Zombieland she figures might not make sense? When did she jump to conclusions?

What was funny about this is that the clerk replied, “Well, Zombieland is a simple concept..zombies try and take over the world, people try to survive and such. While Grandma’s Boy is a litter harder to follow. Bunch of geeks smoke weed and screw Grandma while forcing her to play connect four.”

To which the woman replied, “Sounds like a dike film.”

I didn’t even know where to start. I felt terrified, alone, cold but oh so warm and relieved. I had pissed myself. Not intentionally..this was NOT pre-meditated like Janet Jackson’s boob fondling by that backstreet boy at the grammy’s.

I was forced to act quickly; I ran out of the store with Office Space and the only copy of Sex and the City. What I had just seen was a bit scary with the drugs inside me.

That was my first and last dance chugging a liter of codeine cough syrup and smoking a blunt of hash before mingling in a video store. Jamarcus Russell would have been proud.

Disturbed and high as shit...I flowered my ex-girlfriend’s bed with silly string and milk chocolates. Except it wasn’t silly string and chocolates.

It was a little bit of me..all over her favorite dvd, Sex and the City. Happy anniversary.

Revenge For the Queen

Jamie was a sharp, young convincing man in need of a reasonable pull. Nasty, disturbing, preposterous thoughts and habits were all Jamie knew ever since he was a child.

When he was five, his father Arnold generally crowed about woman's breasts and how they ought to use them should a prickly situation arise. Could be a hostage situation, for example. Arnold knew it in his bones that if he was blessed with breasts not only would he find a way to have fun, he could find a way to negotiate practically through every situation that should arise.

Arnold would also preach how women over time can lure you in by being a bitch; and if they were a bitch to start out with, they’ll probably still be a bitch after a fifth of vodka.

From all his father’s teachings Jamie had learned better. Learned better than to keep his thoughts to himself just like his father. Even though he never quite understood his father’s methods thoroughly, he was under the impression that if he could be an ass to some people, he would. It was funny.

If a hard working woman had a nappy crotch, he would feel compelled to give her a little of his mind.

“Perhaps a brillo pad,” he would say to Ms. Johoblow, the Safeway janitor Monday through Friday. He wasn’t suggesting scrubbing a bathroom. After she forcefully inserted his finger into her vagina twice (although he never really put any effort into stopping her), he figured it be OK to give her some constructive criticism about the bathroom rapes.

On Saturday, he would stalk the principal of a nearby Elementary school, Ms. Gooch. She is a stupid, stupid woman. She tends to slip-up when it comes to Jamie. Gooch leaves her driver’s side window rolled down each Monday out of habit.

Jamie would delicately squeeze an unadulterated piece of ‘poop’ through her window each Monday, also out of habit. For being a former teacher, and the head of an entire school full with little children, she sure was an absent-minded person to let some random dude shit through her driver’s side window in the faculty parking lot on a weekly basis.

Jamie could not figure why even after two months, she still left just enough of an air pocket (an inch) for him to squeeze one through with his fingers if needed. For him to stop (she had caught him running away a couple times) his demands were simple:

The deal was, she would have to wiggle his wrench. Then let him gracefully dispose of his ‘mushy pork’ in her ear while she enthusiastically shouts “Another one bites the dust, HEY!”  Queen for ‘Queen’

Fortunately for Jamie, Ms. Gooch finally gave in to his demands. That night, they rode back to her apartment to settle things once and for all. Jamie was filled with perspiration; so much that he peed just a little every time they came to a stop sign.

Her apartment was amazing to Jamie. Carrot top and Richards Simmons posters flooded the walls.

Gooch first broke the silence. “So unzip your pants and let’s do this thing.”
This would be easy for Jamie. The posters made it so motivationally right.

The time had finally come; the same time Jamie thought should have come after shitting through Gooch’s car in front of elementary kids every week. He thought about how he never agreed to stop doing any of this, and laughs to himself.

Almost instantly after recalling his fun times with Gooch, she grabs his stick violently with her left hand. From behind her desk (near the front door they came in) she reveals a hedge trimmer.

Jamie couldn’t help but say, "Is this how you make bastard children?"