My girlfriend, who I suspect is bipolar, chastised me to hell the other day. In white trash-language, you might say she "tore me a new one". And it is important, I think, not to exclude any potential readers. Besides, being white trash nowadays is kind of hot, it can get you far; had the guy with no teeth from the movie "Deliverance" been around today, he might just have gotten to bang Britney.
But I digress. The so called reason for my girlfriends outburst was ironically enough the fact that I had for once "stepped up" and taken "matters into my own hands". We had been talking about getting a dog you see, and I, having nothing but time on my hands since the verdict, wanted to surprise her. She was surprised allright, but not in the way which usually leads to her catering to my every need in the bedroom. Or intercourse.
But I digress. The so called reason for my girlfriends outburst was ironically enough the fact that I had for once "stepped up" and taken "matters into my own hands". We had been talking about getting a dog you see, and I, having nothing but time on my hands since the verdict, wanted to surprise her. She was surprised allright, but not in the way which usually leads to her catering to my every need in the bedroom. Or intercourse.
"Oh my, to what species do you count that marvellous creature" she asked, but in other, more crude words. I told her what the russian breeder had told me; that it was a Chernobylian squirrel-dog, originally and surprisingly bred around the year 1987 and that it was great with children. It even glows in the dark!
My girlfriend then insisted on putting "the awful thing out of its misery", and all my efforts to get her to at least cuddle with our newest family member was consistently met with the same negative attitude. This was the same irrational behavior she had once displayed when I decided to get that Sean Penn-tattoo.
My girlfriend then insisted on putting "the awful thing out of its misery", and all my efforts to get her to at least cuddle with our newest family member was consistently met with the same negative attitude. This was the same irrational behavior she had once displayed when I decided to get that Sean Penn-tattoo.
On one occasion, she even tried to stomp poor little Frolics to death! Now, Im no Freud (in fact Im not even sure he existed) but experiences like that are sure to traumatise even the toughest among us, dog or human; also, what would be the point of me having sold our micro-owen in exchange for a stain on the carpet?
So then I let her have it.
"- Look here missey", I said in my sternest voice, (and my voice is quite stern to begin with after all that whiskey) "if this is really the message that you want to send to future generations, that the outside counts for more than a persons inside, and that an unusual exterior should a priori be met with rejection and insult, then I want no part of it! Werent you the one who once said to me, after we had met in that bar the very first time, that there is an exception to every rule!? And dont you want our children, if we had any, to grow up with an open mind, not judging people by their looks, but rather by their opinions and by their taste in movies?
Besides, missey", and this was my coup de grace, "youre no Callie Thorne yourself. And even if you had been, Im not sure I would stand for that type of narrow-minded, fascist reaction to one of Gods creations."
So then I let her have it.
"- Look here missey", I said in my sternest voice, (and my voice is quite stern to begin with after all that whiskey) "if this is really the message that you want to send to future generations, that the outside counts for more than a persons inside, and that an unusual exterior should a priori be met with rejection and insult, then I want no part of it! Werent you the one who once said to me, after we had met in that bar the very first time, that there is an exception to every rule!? And dont you want our children, if we had any, to grow up with an open mind, not judging people by their looks, but rather by their opinions and by their taste in movies?
Besides, missey", and this was my coup de grace, "youre no Callie Thorne yourself. And even if you had been, Im not sure I would stand for that type of narrow-minded, fascist reaction to one of Gods creations."
She didnt talk back at once, the gag made sure of that, and I let her spend the afternoon in silent contemplation. As for me, I let Frolics familiarize himself with the backyard while I checked my E-mails. Wouldnt you know it! Callie still hadnt answered.I guess being nice and friendly to your fellow human beings just doesnt pay off.
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1 comment:
F*cking fantastic! You are a genius!
/Flukeman
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