and should their ill-shaven boxes fester in the high noon sun.
for Sarah...
now wait a minute.
why the fuck am i minimizing this? forging a doctor's note? apologizing?
yeah.
shut your fucking cunt mouth!
i've been doing coke and lifting weights all morning, stopping only to hop in the whip and head to "the block" to throw AA batteries at the mangy ass hookers who clutter the sidewalks, daring their pimps to fucken test me.
see what you've done Sarah?
you've put me in a spot of bother my dear.
because if you were down there on that "block" earlier, surely i would've run you down with my ALL AMURRRICAN STEEL, decapitated you, and taken your head into the Hustler Club. used it as a fucken dartboard.
don't mind me (throwing darts nonchalantly, occasionally aiming for the eyes). just proving a POINT!
ouch.
Then i'd take the whole bloody mess back home, make sexytime with your headless corpse and put your pharynx in the garbage disposal. then maybe have a nice bowl of ice cream to celebrate a job well done. Ed Kemper style. actually, i'd make Eddie look like a fucken pussy. double ouch.
I KEEEED, I KEEEED!
i could never do that to another human being. sure. i'm probably the most devout misanthrope alive today. but i'm deathly afraid of prison, you see.
narcissistic, eh? gluttonous, huh? pretentious, yeah?
word?
well babydoll, you say those things like they're all that bad. or at all uncommon. i don't deny that all three (and a whole lot worse) apply to me. but from the time you're old enough to understand the sounds, you're told that this is the only way to fly. it's how you'd better fucking get down if you want shit in this hardscrabble, fuck-you-pay-me world of ours. if you're aware of the proper usage of a word like pretentious, surely you're smart enough to realize this? i'm hoping.
besides. what's more narcissistic/gluttonous/pretentious than an mp3 blog? or the people who publish/read them? thus, my vibe should be right down your alley.
so fuck off!
i know, i know. this is all a bit puerile. but i'm going through a lot right now, emkay Sarah?
for starters, my neighbor's being investigated by the FBI and i'm really fucking shook that she's gonna implicate me in her illicit Oxycontin mini-ring. among other things. then there's the stress of my impending relocation. and they just jacked up utility bills 50% here. plus my health insurance just got cancelled, so i'm shit outta luck when it comes to my anti-psychotics. so necessary.
but i'm really a good person Sarah. honest. just a little misguided is all.
i don't expect an apology or even a reply. after that Ed Kemper bit, i suspect that you haven't even made it this far.
but if you can take a joke (and it seems rather clear that you can't) and have pressed on, know that i LIVE for your brand of disapproval, disdain, and bland joylessness. i absolutely thrive on that shit! it's the only thing keeping me from steering into oncoming traffic on the highway each day. for serious.
I LOVE THE HATE. so i guess you can add masochist-drug addict-vindictive sociopath to the list of labels you've prescribed for me, huh Sarah? i don't mind. just call me Moss.
don't believe me?
consult people's exhibits A+B:
"Well I Never" and "Knife Wounds About The Face And Neck!" ("fortitude in the face of folly.").
bon weekend!
seduce and destroy!
it's been about four years since i've seen the slice of film heaven that is p.t. anderson's "Magnolia." re-visiting this rousing speech by Frank T.J. Mackey (a character far less deluded than the actor that plays him) has brought me to a realization.
i used to say, "you know, if i end up fucked up, really at the end of my rope, i think i'm just gonna become a crooked cop. kickbacks/bribes, brutality, cozy setups with drug dealers, money trains, sex in exchange for freedom. that kinda shit."
but seeing Mackey in action, i think i'll just go right on ahead and add Chauvinist Motivational Speaker to that list, doubling its size in the process. because quite frankly, as long as there are women, and men that are hopeless to understand/connect/value them, there's a market for this shit.
wish me luck!
p.s. i stumbled upon a pretty serious website that's worth checking out if you're into p.t. anderson's work. link is below.
Cigarettes and Red Vines
