WM_0013 ::::::::: And Grappa Fades to Black
May 11, 2003
In the face of some kind of local exposure, old
Chloe's grappa up and offs himself and that doe
eyed ingrate has to look up from between her ankles
last night and ask me to go with to the funeral.
Now I realize Mingus can make a bitch see god,
but what kind of time is that to ask a man to
a planting? Especially down south in that soulless
Americana cowtown where grappa lived? Now it was
awfully distressing and she was crying and I thought
about feeling guilty, but I did have to flip her
over and finish her off before we could get down
to details. I could never stop fucking for nothing
but a man or a father with a cudgel, cause those
are just my fucking rules.
So the deal now is, poor Chloe's got me headed
south for about a week, which is a major problem
in many parts. We're going to shack up in some
cheap motel and the girl is some Irish so lots
of death fucking and drinking, which is always
the best kind, but I got a real feeling this whole
ship just broke its rudder off on the reef and
we are rolling out to sea,only able to look back
wistfully at shore and wonder what it used to
be like.
Because:
1] Chloe introduces Mingus to her family. I haven't
met a family without getting into a fistfight
or a screaming match since before Nat.
2] A week of nothing but Chloe. The girl's good
six hours at a time. Six days is who the fuck
knows.
3] Mingus off from the abbatoir for a week means
no money and the poke is empty now. Maybe I can
write some down there. Either that or I'll be
selling one of our asses soon enough.
4] Mingus goes to church. The last eulogy I ate
made me want to tear the priest's soles off his
feet with crazy glue and a belt sander.
5] The obsidian wall. The last thing Mingus needs
is a week of talking, walking and stalking death
and orchids. Order up another double shot of nihilist
solipsist fits to go.
So Mingus is wary, Mingus is fucked. Mingus is
off to visit our American cowtown for a week and
imagine his own coffin descending into the ear
with some sort of immolated religious fervour.
I say, I will be taking it out of Chloe's ass
in spades, but that's scant recompense. Cause
this bitch put the real fear into me. Cause the
most important, the most disturbing aspect of
this whole deal is:
6] There is a possibility that Chloe has realized
that I cannot refuse a woman anything while fucking
her. Which means that I completely lose control
of the whole fucking deal (of course, the rudder
metaphor), as so often happens. If she figures
it out, she can ask me to move in, be her boyfriend,
marry her, murder her dog, or burn a pediatric
hospital to the ground and I will do it.
And that typically becomes the time that I end
up hitting the road to get away, end up avoiding
these women like disease ridden immigrant whores
and end up fucking them in the bathroom of some
city park and agreeing to be married by the next
silver moon.
M aybe I'm just paranoid and she's just a lonely
girl that needs a man to lean on for a hard week
and no plans to twist me round like cane and make
me stand up under whatever weight she can lay
down. Maybe it's a shoulder to cry on. Maybe it
is. Hope it is. There's nothing wrong with a week
of desperate life-affirming fuckage in a foreign
city. Makes one feel more alive. Long as the girl
doesn't break that rudder off in my ass midstream.
Stay tight, back soon.
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