Jolt Country

Here now, reproduced for you in their entirety, are the last four emails I've sent to Clash, in real time over the past two hours:

Email #1, Subject: "Get the FUCK out of here."
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"Hey, have you tried my bed?"

"Uhh, no."

"Oh, it's real comfortable, try it."

Yeah, so there we were, lying on her new bed.

Please. Please, you have GOT to be FUCKING KIDDING me with this shit.

This is just.

This is out of control. It's out of control.

It's fucking out of control, Larry.

Have you tried my FUCKING BED.

Get the FUCK OUT OF HERE.

It's... you know what it is? It's getting close to ridiculous. That's what
it's getting. Close to ridiculous.
---

Email #2: Subject, "Okay, alright."
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Alright. This has to be a fucking joke. Ha ha, okay, yeah, big laughs all
around! Yeah, good one there. We can laugh about it now.

It's about time to call it off, though, ain't it? I mean, let's just have a
big ol' guffaw at Pinner's expense, that's cool with me. Get it all out of
your systems. No problems here.

Okay, we all done now? All had our laughs? Can call off the big joke?
Okay, super.

Because.

Because, this has to be a fucking joke.
---

Email #3, Subject: "I'm not ranting, am I?"
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This is fucking stupid. She wants to go out for sushi, and a movie
tomorrow? And "are there any places for some good beer on Pearl street?"
BEER on PEARL STREET? She doesn't even DRINK. Now she wants me to take her
out, have sushi and beer with her and then see a movie on a Friday night?
After checking out how comfy her bed it?

You couldn't WRITE this shit.

This is so fucking unbelievable I can't believe it.

I'm not ranting, am I?

But seriously. Somebody is fucking with me. This...

This is fucking unbelievable.

Beer and sushi and a movie on a Friday night. Get the FUCK out of here.

This is fucking BULLSHIT.

I'm not ranting, am I?
---

Email #4, subject, "Seriously."
---
Seriously, though.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

I don't mean to keep going on and on about this at TWO TWENTY in the
morning.

But you gotta be fucking kidding me.
---


I'm reproducing this, drunk, just for your amusement. Your opinions on what a giant weeping pussy I am are implicit and assumed.

I did it all for the content.

Hey, remember last Tuesday night? Remember that? Remember, after I absolutely correctly called her as to doing to leg thing, I said she was going to try the bed thing? Remember when I said, and I sorta quote here, "back when I was fucking with guys, I'd go so far as to do the bed thing. I fucking guarantee you she's going to try the bed thing next". Even though I was not too sure of my prediction, because you did not have a bed per se, I knew she'd find a way to do the bed thing. That's my girl!

I gotta admire her. Even when you have someone calling out her next moves like she's acting them out of Shakespeare's "A Hussy's Tale", she still not only manages to surprise you, but keeps you coming back for more. gg.

It is very impressive, yes.

Do not be taken by turmoil Ben. I can assure you that I know what you are going through right now. Do not make the mistake I have, and drown in the abyss of emotional desolation.

You are in my thoughts, Ben.

Ridiculous as it may be, was the bed comfortable?

Oh, quite! I generally prefer a firmer mattress, but all in all, I could see myself sleeping quite soundly on that bed.

Nothing else, of course. But sleeping, yes.

ChainGangGuy wrote:Ridiculous as it may be, was the bed comfortable?

It probably was, as long as he laid on his back.

Maybe it's time to re-open a text editor and do some more of that "self-talking." That self-talking is therapeutic. It often takes us, to borrow the cliche', "pouring our guts out", but doing so honestly. By walking yourself through the dilemma, you can be the tourguide to the missteps of your life.

You need to be brutally honest, and never flee from the passing thoughts you choose to overlook rather than acknowledge. It is within these that we may find the truth that we all desperately seek, but seldom find.

Best of luck.

FFS. Just slap some duct tape over her mouth and put the hammer to her, already.

Bruce

bruce wrote:FFS. Just slap some duct tape over her mouth and put the hammer to her, already.

"Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

pinback wrote: "Hey, have you tried my bed?"

"Uhh, no."

"Oh, it's real comfortable, try it."

I can't fucking believe this actually happened.

Somebody delete this BBS.

pinback wrote:

pinback wrote: "Hey, have you tried my bed?"

"Uhh, no."

"Oh, it's real comfortable, try it."

I can't fucking believe this actually happened.

Somebody delete this BBS.

Does that mean that your Space-Age Palm Pad caused you to actually score?

Bruce

Have you bought a bed YET?

Bruce: You are bad at computers. Please pay attention.


VX: Yes, in fact! I am BED-RIDDEN! (Meaning, ridden with beds!) I like mine EXTRA-fiiiirm.

I bought a new bed last weekend that cost more than my first truck and it's possibly the best material possession that I have ever encountered. What a difference not sleeping on a mattress slung into a corner with no box spring makes.