I've been spending the last two days searching my js archives for some sort of validation. don't ask me why, i'm not sure i could explain it anyway.

one thing in particular comes to mind through this exercise...what the hell happened? i used to whine, complain and mope about not being able to write, but upon reflection, i'm kind of partial to several of the entries. And what happened to the girl (if i can still call myself a girl) who usually always had something to say about everything? sigh.

at any rate...i found this little diddy, and i thought i'd dust it off for a reprint. it's not for the faint of heart (meaning, d, it has violence...but it's supposed to be funny) and it may stir up some maybe not so pleasant memories for a few folks.

however, i miss my girls. i miss how it used to be, back in the before time. And this is really meant as a tribute to lasting 5 year friendships.



The House of Fucked Up Fortysomethings


Somewhere in the land of Ahia, was a large four-bedroom house. Inside, gathered around the living room coffee table, writing pads in their laps, sat three fortysomethings, all of whom had fled familiar lives, which had left them quite fucked up.

One was a beautiful blonde whose words flowed like wine from her articulate mouth. From the last great wilderness, she had fled the life that suffocated her, her significant other selfishly crushing her dreams and emotions as if they were nothing. Rumor has it that mere days after she left, her s.o. was found bathed in blood and naked in the woods, relieved of his penis. Authorities called it an accident, claiming a starving moose protecting her calf had done the deed.

The second was a vivacious redhead with a razor sharp wit. She’d driven like a crazy woman from Pennsyltucky, depressed, oppressed, and regressed by her stifling heritage that swarmed and encircled her everyday, squeezing the air from her lungs and threatening institutionalization. Singing, “they’re going to take me away, ha ha” she hopped in her car and escaped, leaving the clan to devour itself without her.

The third was a smoldering brunette with a smart mouth. She was always looking to the sky, entranced by clouds and the ever-changing shades of blue. But her internal persecution and paranoia kept her vigilantly looking for mysterious black helicopters. A little scattered and always the dreamer, one day she simply wandered off to have a cheesesteak hoagie from the Philly Connection and never returned.

Now the women sit in a strange land, a little coven of three. The blonde had used her feminine wiles to seduce a poor construction worker. What he didn’t know was the three were like vampires and once he let them into his house, he was doomed.

“I was thinking of panties and looking at the sunrise this morning.” The blonde said.

The brunette answered, “you’re a goddamn flake, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“Ahhhh,” the blonde began, “You are so sweet in the oddest ways.”

The redhead gigglesnorted, as she worked her imaginary quilt. “Hey, I’ll have another egg cream.”

“Just ring the bell,” the blonde instructed.

The redhead picked up the little hand bell off the table. Dingalingaling

The construction worker came into the room. He wore a French maid’s outfit, his hairy back and chest visible from the off the shoulder dress. The tiny apron hung below his beerbelly, as he clunked along the floor in his Red Wing boots.

“Yes?”

“Bring me an egg cream.” Demanded the redhead with a gigglesnort.

“Because the world is round, it turns me on.” Replied the manservant.

The blonde flew into a rage. Pulling a knife from the couch cushion, she began stabbing the manservant while the redhead continued to gigglesnort and the brunette looked longingly out the window towards the swaying trees, and wondered when the government would come crashing through the door.

As crimson began to soak the carpet, the blonde, her bloodlust not yet satisfied, raised the knife above her head and with one mighty swipe, sliced off his penis with a butcher’s skill and stuffed it in his mouth.

The brunette sighed. “Not again. What is it with you and penises?”

The blonde shrugged. “dunno.”

The redhead popped a heart pill, “Well, I’m not cleaning this shit up. And where will we ever find another manservant?”

The blonde smiled. “Oh another will come along.”

“As long as we have the internet, I’m sure someone will turn up.” She gave the girls an evil smile.

“Come on, girls. Let’s drag him out back and bury him.” Instructed the redhead. “You know how I hate a messy house.”

The three drug him outside and buried him in the backyard. They sold his vehicle and bought a new laptop, immediately beginning their search for a new manservant who’d fit in the extra extra large French Maid’s dress.

Within days, another poor shmuck showed up at their door.