Flew To England And Persuaded Him.
Monday, October 05

My dentist, if I can even call him my dentist, is one of the saddest men in the entire world. I keep thinking of that statistic about dentists killing themselves everytime I see him. He kinda looks like Dwight Yokam. Except, he doesn't have the awesome memories of acting in Crank and Crank 2 to keep him from killing himself. I've invented this entire story about what he's done and how he came to be a dentist and why he wants to kill himself, but the fleeting memories of an old tryst he had in Paris won't let him. It's insane. There's a degree on the wall in his "I'm just lookin' at your face." room that was granted to him from some dental school in the West Indies. So the man is travelled, and learned. Only the most heartbreaking of love affairs in the most romantic of cities can crush the spirit and brilliance of a well-traveled and much learned man.

So there he was, possibly sampling a hearty baguette from one of the local street vendors when she happened by. Beautiful, curvy, raven-haired and on her way to the tower. Being younger and adventurous, he seeks and is rewarded when she finds this luckless impresario quite charming and shows him a completely different world. His life is changed, he's in love. Suddenly, things take a dark and unexpected turn. This strangeress has affiliations with the lowest of low, the twisted and insipid rat family of the Parisian mob. A hit on her life leads them into a treacherous landscape of pitfalls and suspiria. They're running for the plane, fleeing from the car they stole to get there with a sadistic and brooding hitman hot on their heals. The doors open, he makes it inside and they hurl their tickets at the desk, blazing by, when all of a sudden...BANG...it hits her. The memories and the realization. She can never leave Paris, it'll find her one day and on that day, she knows, she'll finally have to break her promise and make him unhappy. She stops, shoves into the cabin, closes the door. He presses against trying to open it back up, but he can see the sadness in her eyes. He can see that she's doing this for love. So he places his hand on the window, tears falling from his cheeks, she does the same...he mouths the words "I love you". He mouths the words, "I know."

And he never sees her again as France disappeared from view in his plane back to America.

Or something like that. Really the dude looks like he's been informed that his mother just passed away every fucking time I see him and I can't think of any other reason. Homeboy needs to cheer up.

 

Angie, Stay With Me!
Sunday, October 04

I never really get good days at work. And when your job is the computer equivalent of an ER surgeon that also works front desk, you're only concerned about getting the problem solved and kinda forced to take in all the grief and struggle that comes along with it. So it comes off as pretty petty and annoying when I have to listen to people bitch and spit about not having their computer and how the cost is so ridiculous when I could just be fixing the god damn problem. That's what I do. That's what I'm good at. Fixing shit. Anyway, it almost always a long, nasty, unwashed, uncircumcised DICK. But today, I got a good day. People were complimenting me on my hair, my pants were clean and pressed, there was some new guy that had to shadow me and some new ditzy chick that Mandy was training that wasn't offended by all of my rape jokes. I felt guilty the entire time I was there. The day was going too well for me not too. I walked away with the feeling that this was just a fluke. As if I've been rolling this D20 my entire life. Every day I just toss it out hoping to land on the number I need, but that number only appears once and all 19 of the other sides are pitfalls. Instead of ice cream come, I get alligators. So, tomorrow is probably going to be bad. The next day is probably going to be bad. Same with the one after that. All of this undulating negative energy fluctuating in and out of my threads until the energies dial in on that same wavelength and bond together allowing the positive ambient energy to connect and flow through like the sound of laughter vibrating through he tightly pulled string between two best friends talking through empty tin cans at opposite ends. Everyone thinks their shit sucks though. And they think it sucks more than everyone else's.

Like a coworker's infant daughter being medi-vac'd to a Fairfax hospital earlier tonight, because she fell down a flight of stairs. Nothing I'm going through on have gone through, even on the worst day of my life so far, can even nearly compare to the scope and magnitude of a situation like that.

But it's stuff like that that keeps me from being worried about my luck. My luck is fine. Actually, on a scale from 1 - 10, with 10 being the 100% chill that George Clooney feels when he blows his load down some hot little groupie's throat and 1 being the misery and emptiness that comes with the knowledge that your infant daughter is in the ICU right now with a low probability of surviving the night...I'd say I'm sitting pretty steady at about a 5. Definitely not that, and definitely not that. Let's not jinx my life right now and talk about something else.

Like zombies.

I need to finish that script.

 

Isn't That Nauseating?
Friday, October 02

Lungs, mine, fill of the chilled and spectral air of a town wrought over with the still, but glowing temperature of ghosts. I want to sit on a hill, but not just any hill, one overlooking this coddled mountain town and imagine Halloween from the soles of high-top sneakers pecking the street as little legs stitched to little feet shift quickly underneath their panting hooded assemblies. May there be a thousand houses with even more doors all bulging like lips pursed and waiting to spill their inhabitants out like unruly tongues. And I do hope, if even only one and if even only for a moment, a member among these is one of an actual ghoulish lineage. These towns need mysteries. These towns need creaks in haunts and echoes in crypts. Arcades and spiderwebs. What wickedly wily souls to steal. I wish I was the cool older kid who's been doing this Halloween thing like a pro for years.