Predator Press
[LOBO]
The strange, screaming woman on the phone informed me that my alimony payments were late.
"Of course they're late," I explain frantically. "I didn't even know about them until now!"
I put the phone in a drawer, but could still hear it. I tried leaving it at the other end of the house with the same results. Honestly, it was either appease this angry woman somehow, or throw the phone into Mr Insanity's pool ... but it looked like a really expensive phone.
I finally just mailed her Ethan's Super Triple Platinum card.
How I could have married such a disagreeable woman completely defies explanation.
... She must be hot.
Saturday
Oh Darling
Predator Press
[Mr Insanity]
I haven't been able to write very frequently lately; my job has me traveling a lot.
So a six hour delay had me arriving from Quebec at the Dash Cunning International Airport at 9:00 pm.
Then my car broke down.
I ended up dragging myself and my luggage in the house at 2:00 am; LOBO and Phil, still house-hunting since the fire, were sleeping soundly on the couch.
The last thing I remember was collapsing on my bed face-first, and dreaming fitfully of inane conversations in Spanish.
Then my cell rang.
I answered groggily to a hideous, blood-curdling screech I haven't heard since I was married.
Oddly enough, it was my ex wife; she neglected to fax an annual document to the courthouse, and this caused a delay in my alimony payments to her.
I mean who the fuck pays alimony these days?
***
Now when you get divorced, doesn't that mean explicitly that you don't have to wake up like this anymore? Isn’t it tacitly implied? I paid a lot of money for that divorce. That was a damn fine divorce I might add: if I was going to get fucked, I was going to score some dinner and dancing first.
We even threw a party.
Yet here she is.
If I listen too long, I decide, she will make me gay.
I hung up, and grabbed my bags.
Fuck this. I'm going back to Canada.
Do I have to pay alimony in Canada?
As I struggled my bags though the hall the phone rang again, and LOBO sat up, rubbing his eyes.
"Hey," he yawns cheerily.
I toss my ringing phone into his lap.
"It's for you," I says, leaving.
Divorce, my friends, is a complete rip-off.
Go with murder.
[Mr Insanity]
I haven't been able to write very frequently lately; my job has me traveling a lot.
So a six hour delay had me arriving from Quebec at the Dash Cunning International Airport at 9:00 pm.
Then my car broke down.
I ended up dragging myself and my luggage in the house at 2:00 am; LOBO and Phil, still house-hunting since the fire, were sleeping soundly on the couch.
The last thing I remember was collapsing on my bed face-first, and dreaming fitfully of inane conversations in Spanish.
Then my cell rang.
I answered groggily to a hideous, blood-curdling screech I haven't heard since I was married.
Oddly enough, it was my ex wife; she neglected to fax an annual document to the courthouse, and this caused a delay in my alimony payments to her.
I mean who the fuck pays alimony these days?
Now when you get divorced, doesn't that mean explicitly that you don't have to wake up like this anymore? Isn’t it tacitly implied? I paid a lot of money for that divorce. That was a damn fine divorce I might add: if I was going to get fucked, I was going to score some dinner and dancing first.
We even threw a party.
Yet here she is.
If I listen too long, I decide, she will make me gay.
I hung up, and grabbed my bags.
Fuck this. I'm going back to Canada.
Do I have to pay alimony in Canada?
As I struggled my bags though the hall the phone rang again, and LOBO sat up, rubbing his eyes.
"Hey," he yawns cheerily.
I toss my ringing phone into his lap.
"It's for you," I says, leaving.
Divorce, my friends, is a complete rip-off.
Go with murder.
Friday
On Top
Predator Press
[LOBO]
“Babs,” I says into the prison phone. “You look great. Make up, hot outfit … it’s totally amazing how well you’re doing in here.”
“Thanks,” she spits. Snapping her fingers, she points at a guard. “You. Bring me a sifter of cognac.” Eyeing LOBO, she adds, “Make that a double.”
“Sure thing sugar,” says the guard.
“Wow,” I says, dazzled. You’re practically running the place now. But why is your lipstick all messed up? And why are you always brushing your teeth?”
“When are you getting me out of here?”
“Why would you want to get out? Hell, with all those chicks in there, I wanna get in. I'm tired of hanging out in the parking lot and getting rebuffed by the parolees. Can you imagine how much action I would probably somehow not get if was inside? I've already started a tunnel!”
“LOBO, please. I want out. To see birds in the blue sky--”
“Birds!?” I interrupt. “Listen baby, there are three rules in life you need to follow. The first is Don’t eat egg salad sandwiches out of vending machines. The second is Always wear underwear because your zipper conducts electricity. And the third is Never ever ever trust an animal that doesn’t have the decency to be on the ground when it takes a crap.”
[LOBO]
“Babs,” I says into the prison phone. “You look great. Make up, hot outfit … it’s totally amazing how well you’re doing in here.”
“Thanks,” she spits. Snapping her fingers, she points at a guard. “You. Bring me a sifter of cognac.” Eyeing LOBO, she adds, “Make that a double.”
“Sure thing sugar,” says the guard.
“Wow,” I says, dazzled. You’re practically running the place now. But why is your lipstick all messed up? And why are you always brushing your teeth?”
“When are you getting me out of here?”
“Why would you want to get out? Hell, with all those chicks in there, I wanna get in. I'm tired of hanging out in the parking lot and getting rebuffed by the parolees. Can you imagine how much action I would probably somehow not get if was inside? I've already started a tunnel!”
“LOBO, please. I want out. To see birds in the blue sky--”
“Birds!?” I interrupt. “Listen baby, there are three rules in life you need to follow. The first is Don’t eat egg salad sandwiches out of vending machines. The second is Always wear underwear because your zipper conducts electricity. And the third is Never ever ever trust an animal that doesn’t have the decency to be on the ground when it takes a crap.”
Wednesday
Insomnia
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Phil can't sleep.
And as a consequence, neither can I.
Yes, I know cats are naturally nocturnal. But I've had Phil for about a year now, and usually he's pretty content and peaceful at night. Lately he's just so fidgety; in and out of bed, meowing at absolutely nothing ... I just don't get it.
This is becoming a problem; I absolutely need eight hours of sleep at night -as well as four or five during the day- or I can't function at all.
Whatever angst and anxieties are riddling Phil are slowly deteriorating my vice-like grip on sanity; often in the quiet darkness, I swear I hear a soft, tinny voice repeatedly asking for someone named 'Templeton', followed by another, doggedly replying "Hola!"
But that's nothing; last night Phil was curled up on my pillow and I heard a full-on conversation:
Voice: Templeton?
Other Voice: Buenas noches!
Voice: Ah, hmmm ... Hablo un poco español; ¿comprende usted?
Other Voice: Si. Yo comprendo.
Voice: ¿Habla usted inglés?
Other Voice: No.
Voice: Hablo un poco español. ¿Dónde esta el baño?
Other Voice: ¿Cómo?
Voice: Un momento.
Other Voice: Está Bien; Muy bien.
Goddamn it, this goes on for hours.
[LOBO]
Phil can't sleep.
And as a consequence, neither can I.
Yes, I know cats are naturally nocturnal. But I've had Phil for about a year now, and usually he's pretty content and peaceful at night. Lately he's just so fidgety; in and out of bed, meowing at absolutely nothing ... I just don't get it.
This is becoming a problem; I absolutely need eight hours of sleep at night -as well as four or five during the day- or I can't function at all.
Whatever angst and anxieties are riddling Phil are slowly deteriorating my vice-like grip on sanity; often in the quiet darkness, I swear I hear a soft, tinny voice repeatedly asking for someone named 'Templeton', followed by another, doggedly replying "Hola!"
But that's nothing; last night Phil was curled up on my pillow and I heard a full-on conversation:
Voice: Templeton?
Other Voice: Buenas noches!
Voice: Ah, hmmm ... Hablo un poco español; ¿comprende usted?
Other Voice: Si. Yo comprendo.
Voice: ¿Habla usted inglés?
Other Voice: No.
Voice: Hablo un poco español. ¿Dónde esta el baño?
Other Voice: ¿Cómo?
Voice: Un momento.
Other Voice: Está Bien; Muy bien.
Goddamn it, this goes on for hours.
Monday
Bundle of Joy
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Because all the neighborhood kids think it's fun pushing the Chick Magnet back into my driveway every time I try to leave the house 'cuz it only has 3rd gear anymore, Gilmore and I get stuck buying flowers for Mother's Day together.
--I don't know how much longer I can complain.
"Nobody buys me flowers for getting laid," I protest.
"How would you know?"
"Hey, I get plenty of action," I says as we get in line at the cashier. "Chicks dig me." I put my hands behind my head and sigh. "Yep, I've wrecked more than my share of uterus."
"I'll bet," says Gilmore.
"'The General' is longer 'n Bill Gates' password!"
"That will be $300," says the florist. "Will that be all for you gentlemen?"
"Can we get a big side of ranch dressing?" I says. "And does this come with a baked potato?"
[LOBO]
Because all the neighborhood kids think it's fun pushing the Chick Magnet back into my driveway every time I try to leave the house 'cuz it only has 3rd gear anymore, Gilmore and I get stuck buying flowers for Mother's Day together.
--I don't know how much longer I can complain.
"Nobody buys me flowers for getting laid," I protest.
"How would you know?"
"Hey, I get plenty of action," I says as we get in line at the cashier. "Chicks dig me." I put my hands behind my head and sigh. "Yep, I've wrecked more than my share of uterus."
"I'll bet," says Gilmore.
"'The General' is longer 'n Bill Gates' password!"
"That will be $300," says the florist. "Will that be all for you gentlemen?"
"Can we get a big side of ranch dressing?" I says. "And does this come with a baked potato?"
Saturday
In Carnations
Predator Press
[LOBO]
I went to visit Babs in the Pianosa Women's Correctional Facility on Saturday morning.
"Jesus Christ," I says into the telephone. "You look like shit."
"I will kill you," Babs smiles through the window.
"I didn't know that they facilitate bail only 9 to 5 Monday through Friday. It wasn't my fault I showed up at five thirty," I point out. "But seriously, you've completely let yourself go in here. You couldn't bother to at least put on some makeup? And what's the deal with the cornrows? And those fuzzy green tattoos on your knuckles? Who the hell is 'Fisty'?"
"Why are you here?"
"So's you know we're still pulling for you here on the outside. You'll be out first thing Monday. Hang in there."
Babs' shoulders sag in a silent resignation.
"I may not be able to get you out of here, but I did do something nice for you. Make sure you're watching channel 6 tonight in the rec room at 5 o'clock.
"Why?"
"Just trust me," he says. "Remember how you cried when you saw on the news all those kids got killed on Prom Night in a car accident?"
"I'm actually surprised you remember that," Babs says, intrigued, studying me closely.
"Well, I think you could use some good PR for a change, and this time it shouldn't only come from the United States Navy."
***
I don't know what happened.
All I know is Babs got into six fights Saturday night, and her bail is now $500,000.
Ethan only authorized $60.
You know, I really thought the 'Kars Kill Kids' fundraising commercials funded by the Babs Foundation would cheer her up.
But six fights in one night?
That's some serious 'Aggression Issues' at play there.
Maybe she should be in prison.
[LOBO]
I went to visit Babs in the Pianosa Women's Correctional Facility on Saturday morning.
"Jesus Christ," I says into the telephone. "You look like shit."
"I will kill you," Babs smiles through the window.
"I didn't know that they facilitate bail only 9 to 5 Monday through Friday. It wasn't my fault I showed up at five thirty," I point out. "But seriously, you've completely let yourself go in here. You couldn't bother to at least put on some makeup? And what's the deal with the cornrows? And those fuzzy green tattoos on your knuckles? Who the hell is 'Fisty'?"
"Why are you here?"
"So's you know we're still pulling for you here on the outside. You'll be out first thing Monday. Hang in there."
Babs' shoulders sag in a silent resignation.
"I may not be able to get you out of here, but I did do something nice for you. Make sure you're watching channel 6 tonight in the rec room at 5 o'clock.
"Why?"
"Just trust me," he says. "Remember how you cried when you saw on the news all those kids got killed on Prom Night in a car accident?"
"I'm actually surprised you remember that," Babs says, intrigued, studying me closely.
"Well, I think you could use some good PR for a change, and this time it shouldn't only come from the United States Navy."
I don't know what happened.
All I know is Babs got into six fights Saturday night, and her bail is now $500,000.
Ethan only authorized $60.
You know, I really thought the 'Kars Kill Kids' fundraising commercials funded by the Babs Foundation would cheer her up.
But six fights in one night?
That's some serious 'Aggression Issues' at play there.
Maybe she should be in prison.
Friday
Mink
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Ethan hands me a credit card
--a Super Triple Platinum card.
"Ooooo ... !" I says, turning it to watch the electroplated genuine Aztec gold surface flash in the light.
It's actually made of platinum.
The raised letters are meticulously carved diamond shards.
After a few minutes, I realize Ethan is talking to someone. Something about "being tired of this," and Babs getting someone out of jail finally or something.
"If those people keep fundraising for Babs on their blogs, you're going to force me to invoice them for Copyright Infringement!" he says, storming out.
I hope Babs gets right on that 'jail' thing.
It would suck to be in jail.
This card has a mink handgrip!
[LOBO]
Ethan hands me a credit card
--a Super Triple Platinum card.
"Ooooo ... !" I says, turning it to watch the electroplated genuine Aztec gold surface flash in the light.
It's actually made of platinum.
The raised letters are meticulously carved diamond shards.
After a few minutes, I realize Ethan is talking to someone. Something about "being tired of this," and Babs getting someone out of jail finally or something.
"If those people keep fundraising for Babs on their blogs, you're going to force me to invoice them for Copyright Infringement!" he says, storming out.
I hope Babs gets right on that 'jail' thing.
It would suck to be in jail.
This card has a mink handgrip!
Stretch
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"Is Babs' bail really that much money?" asks Mr. Insanity.
"You wouldn't believe how much it is," I says.
"You could hit up Ethan for it," he says doubtfully.
"After she tried to steal his empire?" I laugh sadly. "Ethan wouldn't piss on her if she was on fire." I scratch my chin. "Maybe we could have a telethon."
"Maybe. Have you gone to see her yet?"
"I'm going tomorrow. Today I'm getting together a 'care package'."
"Well, that's very nice. What's in it?"
"Cigarettes and soap-on-a-rope."
[LOBO]
"Is Babs' bail really that much money?" asks Mr. Insanity.
"You wouldn't believe how much it is," I says.
"You could hit up Ethan for it," he says doubtfully.
"After she tried to steal his empire?" I laugh sadly. "Ethan wouldn't piss on her if she was on fire." I scratch my chin. "Maybe we could have a telethon."
"Maybe. Have you gone to see her yet?"
"I'm going tomorrow. Today I'm getting together a 'care package'."
"Well, that's very nice. What's in it?"
"Cigarettes and soap-on-a-rope."
Thursday
Pokey
Predator Press
[LOBO]
It has come to my attention that websites like "Stuff and Stuff and Stuff" are currently fundraising for Babs' bail money.
I've linked all of them in the Site Guide --right under “Petit Mal”-- just so you know that you don't have to go there; I'm bound to come up with that $60 by simple virtue of this huge stack of scratch-off lottery tickets.
These lottery tickets --coupled with about 40,000 of your generous pennies so's I can scratch 'em off-- means I have everything well-in-hand.
... And Babs always wanted to hang with Paris Hilton ... !
[LOBO]
It has come to my attention that websites like "Stuff and Stuff and Stuff" are currently fundraising for Babs' bail money.
I've linked all of them in the Site Guide --right under “Petit Mal”-- just so you know that you don't have to go there; I'm bound to come up with that $60 by simple virtue of this huge stack of scratch-off lottery tickets.
These lottery tickets --coupled with about 40,000 of your generous pennies so's I can scratch 'em off-- means I have everything well-in-hand.
... And Babs always wanted to hang with Paris Hilton ... !
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