Posted by NL on September 26, 2004 at 12:26:12:
I thought I would offer something as a GOOD story. This is NOT intended for the BAD story competition!
It is intended to be a GOOD story! GOOD! BAD! GOOO! BAAA!
The New Antenna
I think some MESKIN girls live next door! Maybe the girl in the bathrobe, the one I saw next door, was a mexican? Oh, chiquita, take OFF your clothes! Stick OUT your tits, your gentle boobs for my face! OH! Warm brown skin, and two big helpings of fat! Grease! With a large cast iron pot and some carrots and maybe turnips, I'd be in business. Does any of this shock me? NO. It is a sterile and even puerile exercise. It is like weak tea. It is like sniffing socks instead of gasoline. I would much rather contemplate the destiny of man. Patterns move across my shuttered eyes. I am frightened and over-excited. Morons make war-whoops in the night. Malice, ignorance, and ugliness are abroad, in Belgium Land and Swaziville, in Amerika, tonight.
In the dark and chilly early morning, I stopped to examine a carcass by the roadside. It consisted of the skull and ribbed spine of a large pig, substantially decomposed. I thought later that I would if I could, if I were braver, remove the pig skull and take the rest home with me in a plastic bag.
I've begun to think of the people in that house next door as my defense shield. They can go about being seen and heard, being publicly human, and that draws attention away from me. Their noise and visual clutter will keep out tendrils of morbid curiousity, and cowardly aggressive impulses, from other neighbors. I've got a sort of implied contract, with the people over there, see, and they are not going to bother me. It's like I'm part of their property. That might give me time to settle back and consider the things that sorely need to be done.
This isn't a very happy neighborhood. My next door neighbor suffers from "rumors" when her husband comes home, which the television makes worse, and my other next door neighbor eavesdrops on every one with a sensitive parabolic microphone. They get their kicks that way. That explains why I smell shit whenever I practice my guitar at night, even though I try to be quiet about it. My neighbors listen, and when they hear me they sneak across the hedges with a platter full of dog shit, and hold it against the intake of my airconditioner. Should I try to catch them?
Last night, I not only repaired my antenna, I improved it! The emanations are rich now! I hear new things through my new antenna!
Sometimes, sometimes
when I'm all alone
and by my se'f
my filthy ol' se'f
I think how it would be
to be fuckin' you baby
stickin' it up inside you, baby
and sha-a-a-a-akin' it! HUH!
Thank God! A letter from HOME: Well well. Have not been writing much lately. We have had a bit of rain, and thanks to the Lord because we have needed it, but the crops are spoilt and the moo cows drowned. Speaking of death, little Nembutal passed away in his sleep the other day. Yes, he was complaining of pain and fever, so we beat him, and it did no good because he died, and we buried him behind the barn. Well, it is all for the best and the Lord has been good to us. Hope to live to a ripe age and die more peacefully than little Nembutal, who screamed like a hog at slaughter when we beat him. Hope you visit us soon, and want to show you what we did with the moo cows. Think you will be much surprised. Well have much work to do and am sure you have much work to do, so love from all of us and the Lord bless you and keep you. Amen.
PS Well, hope you are all fine and feeling much better after that holocaust of death. The cool weather we have been having lately has affected my piles and it seems I have never known such pain. Have ruined most of my drawers with blood and yellowish discharges which smell of rotten eggs and something that has been lieing dead in the sun for several days in a humid land at the height of summer. Or, smells like little Nembutal smelled when the dog dug him up last week, out behind the barn. Had to kill the dog, as it had a taste of human flesh and never will be the same again, no, not ever again. Screamed like a wounded pig or a tortured bird last night and most of the day. Have kept Pa awake but feel much better now he has beaten me senseless. Only hope he does not kill me like little Nembutal. I pray to God for a clean death when it comes. Put up some black currant jam and would put up more but for the pain and weariness which comes back again. Feels like a red hot poker up inside of me, which is wicked I know, but even seem to smell the burning flesh. Wish you could visit. The moo cows have come back to life and are doing fine now though can't understand how they can be so fat and healthy after all they have been through. Perhaps little Nembutal will come back to us, though don't know what we will do about his arm that the dog took. The Lord will provide, so they say. All in the Lord's good time, I say, and will accept whatever it pleases Him to send us.
I tell you, I'm tired of these crumbs-- these drips and drops, these snippets and snoppets, all disgust me equally. Where, then, is life's great banquet? And yet, it seemed that I had a few things to boast of today, a long list of accomplishments. Yes, I remember now. It had to do with the roaches. They disturbed my sleep again last night, so, after a skirmish in the dark with a huge gravid female, whose egg I smashed afterwards, I took up arms and entered the storage shed outside, in the dark, in the night, where I believe they hide and make their plans. There I found several ugly insects in a cluster, and I attacked them with the only weapon I own, a good stout knife, killing with the personal touch such creatures understand, thoroughly and methodically. I believe I did a good job. I've never gone so far before.
According to my new antenna, the Mexican girls next door are dead. Yes, it seems they were hacked to death, in the night. This is really such a terrible neighborhood, I feel I should move, move at once, find someplace to live where I might hope for better neighbors--better than the scum I've had to put up with in THIS area.