Well well...it has been awhile, hasn't it? The recent re-opening of The Diner encouraged me to pen/find this little addition to what is bound to be an unfinished piece. Oh well. The original text is all copy-pasted below and the new part is in bold to make for easy scrolldownitude. Enjoy.
I was enjoying an afternoon in the bathroom the other day, standing up and eating a sandwich. I was dressed as a newborn babe, in only the skin God gave ?em, and was quite enjoying myself, until I heard some Awful coming from the adjoining room. Apparently, the couple in the next room was having Troubles.
?If you want to be with me, you can?t be all over me. If you love guilt annoying commitment love hate guilt ego-smashing deal compromise blah-?
I?m no eavesdropper. It wasn?t some voyeuristic fantasy of mine to be naked with no clothes on and flog myself with a sandwich in the bathroom of a shitty apartment complex, gyrating and sweating and pumping to the sounds of an overweight housewife and her cop boyfriend discussing their ?problems?. Because...I?m not that creative.
?Communication is important to me, and it should be important blah blah more guilt, pain Oprah-logic, guilt-?
It was as if someone had sneaked a funnel of Bad soup into my ears and once the stuff had settled...it was impossible to ignore. I tried to shake my head, shake away these awful, clich?d arguments, but I got fouled up in the shower curtain and very nearly lost myself completely.
?-respect woman not blah what-?
It was getting to be too much. I couldn?t stay in the bathroom, not with that noise. There was no possibility of staying in my place. The way my apartment looked, I wanted to hire a maid just to see her quit on the spot.
The woman across the hall must have been finished. Maybe she was in the midst of another guilt-inducing, five-year-old silent treatment operation. All I knew was, there was suddenly silence.
Show time!
I ripped open the door, stomped out stark naked as a Jay, proud and dripping and arrogantly flexing, and slammed my apartment door. Things were getting rough in there, I thought, can?t get involved with that awful affair.
I had a meeting, besides. My attach? case waited for my eager hands, leaning listlessly against the doorframe. ?Alright!?, I nearly shrieked, trying to get some old sneakers on. ?Alright, goddamn it, I?m coming, I?m coming?. I threw on a ratty, old T-shirt and yanked up a pair of shorts from the floor.
My head creeped cautiously, slowly, from just inside my door. From just beyond the next door, the Bad was suddenly back, screaming and sobbing all at once, with Things being thrown at the walls, the door, threw windows. Too much.
I pounced on the hallway. Horrible, yellow and off-purple carpeting, hard walls knocking me away, hurrying hurrying to get away. The neighbor?s door snapped at me, baring its jangling, metal fangs, but retreated just as swiftly as it had leaped open. I hunched down and charged for the stairs, both hands locking the case in front of my face.
I plunged down the staircase, the case swinging heavily in my hand, almost tearing my arm off. Sunlight. Light. Terrible and in my eyes, ripped at my tired eyes like a cheap pair of rusty scissors. It was an appalling morning, and the day had barely begun.
The sun baked me, the palest potato ever seen by man. I looked for the car, the ride, my blue-white salvation, but it was no where in sight. As I sat roasting, the sweat & steam of sunlight on sad skin in my nose, I thought back to the phone call.
?Come on, man?, the voice had said. ?I need to eat. We need to get this thing sorted out, and you?re the only one who knows where to go for that.? We had it all sorted; in a matter of minutes, the arrangements were made. He hung up and I called ahead for reservations, gritting my teeth at the phone when they asked for a name. Only an alias would do; I gave them the Clark name, which has certain weight attached to it.
Slamming the phone down, I gritted my teeth. I had a savage Wait to burn through, eighty or so minutes until my driver arrived. My teeth ground together roughly, sparking. I could taste my fingernails before I even looked down and saw they?d been chewed. Food, I thought finally. I could do for a sandwich.
One of the few freedoms we are granted is the immunity against clothes, which all Americans are privy to. I like to take advantage of this Right as much as possible. I also enjoy bathes. It made perfect sense, then, to engage in both consumption and ablution simultaneously.
Problems, as they inevitably do, arose in the paper-thin walls that separated me from my warring neighbors. As I sat down on the toilet, I thought I heard whispering.
I turned the stereo low, almost to nothing but just enough so that if they were listening to me, they would still think I was listening to the stereo. My ears peered through wall, trying to pick up the least sound.
Nothing. Okay.
Tentatively my shaking finger raised the volume knob. My spine was poised, rigid, waiting for anything. I am quite sure that if even a cockroach had coughed my legs would be the only thing still hanging in through the window, the rest of me stuffed through in a blind, white terror panic. Or I could always jam myself down the toillet if-
The phone rang again, jarring my thoughts like a mouthful of tinfoil for the brain. ?Goddamn it!? My answering machine lurched into life, shrieking my driver?s voice.
?There?s been a change, I?m on my way now. I hope you?re ready, things are getting hairy over here. Be there?
Then the Awful started.
As I sat in the sun, fanning myself awkwardly with the large case, I hear the show continuing; it sounded like the woman had gotten it into her head to start pumping their whole precious life together out the window. Chairs and vases, photo albums and pillows, all turning and twirling, becoming just more Things on the lawn.
I hear and engine and before my eyes even register it, the car is there. Blue with white strips, ?for speed? my drivers always said, and roaring. I cast a last look at the building, watching the first fingers of a white couch inch their way out the window.
?Get me the fuck out of here, man, on the double!?
Car rides are boring. My driver had a cigarette. I thumbed through his CD collection, turned off what I considered crap, turned it back on when he starting shouting and swerving, and then grudgingly gave him directions.
At last we pulled in at exactly 5:42 PM. A stylish screech of rubber told everyone inside we had arrived. I would not walk in there unannounced. I shoved my driver through the door and shouted for a table. The only way to handle him now was with a firm hand. We sat in a booth near the back and I set to the task of straightening the man out. He had upended a bottle of speed into his mouth on the way. "I only meant to take two!" He hissed through clenched teeth. I could see Fear behind his eyes. What would the awful stuff do to him, I thought. How much did that bottle have left in it? I couldn't remember. I had given it to him from my atach? case, the top wrenched off righteously and thrown into the footwell. I remembered him saying something about keeping both hands on the wheel as he fished inside the bottle with his tongue. I saw the pothole before he did, made a wild lunge for the wheel, but it was too late. Before we knew it that fiednish bugger was halfway down his goddamn throat. I reacted calmly and quickly. I immediately curled my fingers into my battle-tested "lobster pincers" grip that I had picked up from a martial arts man while I was on assignment in Indonesia. It worked. I yanked/threw the bottle and it flew out the window with a cough. Pills scattered everywhere, but he must have swallowed half of them. Madness. Now what? Surely he was bound to make a scene. Before we placed our order I was lightheartedly flirting with the waitress. She casually tapped my driver on the shoulder and unknowingly jolted him away from some sort of drug coma. You'd have thought she'd stolen his wallet and pistol whipped him...
That's as far as I got. Be well.
- Be yourself. Or lie, whichever.
- Don't insult the person you admire with cheesy pickup lines like "Hello", "Did that come out of me?", or "This is the grade school, right?"
- Always keep in mind that models might be above you, but maniquens can't scream.
- Remember, if a girl says "I'm autistic," that's just being shy.
- A very simple and charming way of asking someone out on a date is to approach your potential date with your head down, keeping your eyes fixed on her knee caps and ask if she is interested in stuff. Be sure to supplement this approach with vivid descriptions of your own stuff and where exactly the stuff is located in your room at your parent's place. (mine is under the bed).
- Drinking coffee is becoming a tired, passe trend. To liven your date up, ask her if she enjoys drinking water. If she seems interested, invite her to come stand up at your place and drink some water while looking at the aforementioned stuff. Be sure to twitch, stammer, and raise your voice obnoxiously without warning.
- If your date cannot fit through your front door, you are obligated to buy a collar and water her for at least 24 hours.
- A good way to see how well your date takes care of herself is to check out her elbows. If they're smooth, she obviously uses a skin cream and thinks highly of herself. If they are too smooth, you're lost in JCPenny's again. Keep trying!
- Never allow yourself or your date to fart. Farting is when the butt yawns, spelling boredom. To keep things interesting, never sit for more than three to five seconds, always giving your date something to keep her eyes on and giving you the attention you so richly deserve.
- On your first date, avoid taboo or risque subjects that may upset your date, like politics, religion, or how the sound of glass breaking gives me an erection.
- Try not to call attention to any of your date's embarrasing personal habits or quirks like stuttering, lazy eyes, or facial bleeding.
- After the meal, if you and your date ease into a comfortable silence, make sure to tap their IV to make sure they're not cheating.
- If you have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, don't make a big deal out of it by cheering or yelling, "THIS IS THE PART WHEN I GET RID OF ALL THAT FOOD I DIDN'T LIKE! THEY CALL ME EL FARTO!"
- At the close of a date, if you wish to express your enjoyment, do so in a friendly and relaxed way. Maybe use a cliched (but charming!) expression like "I had a great time" or "This was so much fun, I want to have a heartattack all over myself!"
- Always let your date arrive home safely, as kidnapping is a clear sign of a commitment that neither of you may be ready for, this early in your parole.
HOLY HOLE IN A DOUGHNUT! IF ANYONE GETS THIS...HELP! MY WORDS ARE DISAPPEARING!
Methinks legitimate academy will let flow the creativity juice more readily than the self-imposed mental stagnation brought about by the summer months. It will also help that 75% of my classes are math/computer related this semester. By the end of the day I'm screaming for a good novel, a bad novel, or any novel at all.
I was an orange belt's nemesis tonight in hap ki do class. Mainly "because of my height and flexibility". He even asked me if I do yoga, which made me feel about 10 feet tall (with proudness).
He was trying to throw me while standing back to back with me using my upturned palm as a load point and my armpit as a fulcrum. I was supposed to flip head over heels sideways using an airfall maneuver (quite spectacular when done correctly.) But he couldn't do it. Ordinarily, the tension in your arm leaves you with 2 options; have your arm broken (or ligaments snapped if you're lucky) or fall helplessly to the ground. But when the tension isn't there, the move doesn't work. I was spinning out of the back to back arm hold and striking either with the back of my hand or a back kick. This wasn't for real, so I didn't hit him, but I tapped him on the face with either my hand or my heel to let him know it was there. I should not have been able to do that. When it's done correctly, hap ki do leaves the opponent with no choice but to either fall or be incapacitated in some way.
There are 7 basic moves, all of which end a fight quickly. The attacker either winds up (heh) on the ground in too much pain to continue, being thrown, or forced to stumble away in order to maintain balance or fall. The stumbling away or falling option opens a nice opportunity to run away, but it's also useful if you don't want to run, but would rather just stand there looking totally badass and/or sweet waiting for the attacker to decide to run or attack again. Another possible result of proper execution will end with you holding the attacker's hand (awww!) while he is still standing, but he's wishing he didn't have arms (at which point, if you so choose, you may oblige him.)
For example, do you remember the part in Kill Bill II when Beatirx tries to cave Pai Mei's skull in with a rock? (SILLY GIRL!) He turns her hand around, and after tossing the rock, extends her arm straight up in the air behind her with one hand holding her wrist. Then he tells her he's going to chop her arm clean off. (badassed!) That whole technique and the grip he uses is pure hap ki do. Man, that is sooooo cool that I want to shit my pants! Right here in the diner!
Holy shit...I think this is the first time in a long while that I've filled an entire diner place-mat with something I didn't want to throw on the fire immediately afterwards. But that doesn't mean anything, because I wrote this in a hurry and I know it's gaurbage, sister! But haha! the joke's on you, because you just wasted your time reading it....I wasted your time...nananabooboo! Woah. I'm going to bed......Yipes, just yipes. Oh! For those who haven't seen... I finally got new glasses. Oh yeah!
Dear Colleagues:
As you should know, yesterday we had a telephone conference to discuss immediate settlement of the Wilson cases, in light of the e-mail from the Special Master. As you should know, the Special Master advised immediate settlement at 3.5M or risk "disaster".
In light of the Special Master's e-mail, our previous telephone conferences on the Wilson cases and our evaluation of the Khun medical records sent to each of you on October 30th, John Leventhal and I strongly recommended settlement at 3.5M.
Nationwide has agreed to same. Al Flummox sent a telefax to each of you yesterday confirming Nationwide's authority and requesting an immediate response from each of you as to your authority to settle.
Given all of the above, I must receive your authority to settle at 3.5M on later than 12 noon EST today. As you should know from the Special Master's e-mail, her instruction was to complete settlement by Monday of this week or risk "disaster". As she also stated Wilson was ready to increase their demand to 3.8M until she again interceded on behalf of Cleveland Books. And further delay in completing this settlement creates serious risk that the demand will increase and the Special Master will "wash her hands" of Cleveland Books on these cases.
AGAIN, I MUST HEAR FROM EACH OF YOU BY 12 NOON TODAY SO THAT I MAY CONFIRM THE ALREADY OVERDUE SETTLEMENT WITH THE SPECIAL MASTER.
Thank you for your anticipated immediate attention to this telefax.
