Filed under: Thawed
INT – APARTMENT – NYC – LATE MORNING
what the fuck is wrong with you?
he smiles and only shakes his head.
well?
well what?
did you get laid last night?
nope.
oh man, you met someone didn’t you?
he only nods, pressing his lips together.
i did.
you’ve lost it man. fully completly.
eh, maybe. but i feel like a new born.
if you keep falling for these annonomus skullfucks you’re going to turn into a new born. you’re brains gonna go mush on ya.
i met her at the stuck-pig.
oh jesus man. that place that was in being john malcovick?
yeah.
how was that place?
it was stupid.
so then why meet a girl from there.
she wasn’t from there, she was there. she didn’t live under the bar or anything.
oh, because i figured perhaps she did.
her apartment is actually quite nice.
justin’s jaw drops.
why? why do you say those things to me right now?
i speak the truth.
you speak yourself into the gutter, get outta here.
man you’ve gotta calm down.
am i not?
no, you’re screaming at me and i feel very hurt.
you’re always hurt.
i’m always sad because you yell at me so much.
what’s her name?
tyler’s mind goes blank for a second. he scrunches up his eyebrows, attempting to find her name in his memory.
YOU DON’T KNOW HER NAME???
phonex.
you’re making that up.
i know.
i can’t believe you don’t know her name.
i know her phone number and where she lives.
so check your phone dumbass.
tyler flips through his phone book.
gladis???
gladis?!
justin begins laughing.
fucking gladis? that’s horrible.
EXT – COLLEGE CAMPUS – DAY
gladis??? who the hell??? what happened? i gotta call this girl, make sure she’s not a grandmother.
INT – CLASSROOM – DAY
tyler is on his cellphone.
fuckin’ a, yeah. i was thinking the same thing! what about tonight? oh. bummer. well when can you? tomorrow. excellent. oh yeah, bring your roomate, i’ll do the same.
the professor walks in.
tyler, you’ve got to be kidding me.
shit, i’ve gotta go i’m in class. yeah i don’t know why i suppose i just had talk to you. it’s been 12 hours
mr. ferrino!
fuck, i gotta go. okay see ya.
as the phone closes/cut to black.
INT – BEDROOM – NIGHT
FADE IN:
she better be hot.
isn’t there a rule somewhere that hot chicks flock together.
you’re an idiot you know that?
you tell me this frequently, i understand my lack of mental cells.
brain cells.
right.
right.
right.
…right.
CUT TO BLACK:
INT – STUCK-PIG BAR – NIGHT
justin looks around.
holy shit man, it’s just like it was in the movie.
yeah i know, wild right?
there’s even a bunch of asians at the bar. i feel like they’re gonna kill me.
naw man, they’re cool.
tyler waves, gives a heads up kinda wave, to the bar tender, who is also asian. he looks at tyler like “what the hell are you doing?”
i don’t think they know you yet buddy.
eh, they will.
Filed under: Thawed
4:38 PM
FUCK BILLS.
I’m surprised they didn’t lose 20 to 19.
I’m surprised i still watch them.
4:50 PM
it’s weird that our bodies spit out liquids every day.
you mean urine?
yes.
what if, in order to remain in a constant state of equilibrium, we had to drink and piss simultaneously…
and eat and shit at the same time.
right, we’d all have tv trays, and our own bathrooms, for dinnertime. we’d be like, “well, i think it’s time to go eat. i’ll see you later. i’m going to my bathroom.”
or just plumbing around the dinner tables.
5:30
i just went to sam goody, to buy game theory. alas, they were closed.
5pm sundays
fuckmaster!
do you think k-mart would have it?
probably
damn. now i might need to go out again.
dude! i just farted.
ah, the telephone. what an invention! (i’m pouring a can of labatt blue into a glass right now) …And so it begins. fetch one, sipp-a-witz.
5:50 PM
i need some meds.
meds? i need some beer
rent v for that thing.
tell your stupid girlfriend to rent it with her stupid 1.99 ticket
i can’t. i’m making her rent lucky number sleven on tuesday when it comes out.
you are a bum. that movie for V for venblahblah? just get her stupid coupon and go rent it
v for vindeisel
what i’m saying here is that sleven is for the birds
you haven’t seen it you fuckmook. you haven’t seen it.
[Direct Instant Message session started]
i’ve seen those!
you mean, the areola?
that’s kelly’s new shirt and her boobs
that’s not her boobs.
yes it is
i don’t believe you. those don’t look like her shoulder/arm parts.
how the hell would you know!? i know those shoulder arm parts and those are it.
well i’ve seen her arms… tell her to stop lying to you. it’s so good, once it hits yer lips! (my beer, that is, not kelly’s parts) [because i wouldn't know anything about that].
but you know what her arm parts look like ya fuckstand.
you’re the fuckspoon, Fuckspoon.
6:00PM
i need a nice big mass orgy and then some relaxation time (you’re not invited) [but you may send kelly's arm parts, if it makes you feel better] really any parts would be a-ok. ok, a-oj? i’m going downstairs to get another beerstain sandwich.
okay.
i’ll see about the vandelta.
you’ll get it! or else! HELLLLL TO PAAAYYY.
(LATER)
i can’t go to the movies. my mom said no. wait– what i mean is, the coupon doesn’t start until tomorrow. and unless you know where there’s five expendable bucks, i’m outta ideas.
well, then life sucks. you suck for not having a time machine. our friendship (which has never really been real) is now terminated.
finally! closure! (now if you’ll just supply me with the two tapes and two mini tapes that this friendship was built around, i’ll be on my way).
dude, they don’t even make mini tapes any more.
well then i’ll need the equivalent upgrades because frankly, you suck at friendship.
6:15 PM
why won’t star wars go away?
donde?
ya know, star wars. they’re coming out again on DVD tuesday.
6:45PM
’somewhat damaged’ just blew up my iPod and i suddenly felt like jumping out the window and running down the street. i’d probably do a half-gainer, no- wait. a full-gainer, yes. whatever a gainer is, i’d do it, landing perfectly onto my feet, of course, yes, in the driveway, and then i’d run, run, ru– ok, it’s over now.
damn the world. i need to put that on my cum pute her.
that’s filthy.
so’s life dave.
thanks aristotle. but all i see are sunshiny rainbows and pink puffy balloons…
those pink puffy ballons are your girlfriends boxed vagina lips, ya sick fuck! ew.
ok that’s it. i challenge you to a duel, fucknuts.
duel of the pink lips?
also, don’t EVER mention my girlfriend in that horribly filthy dirt-like manner again. or death will seem like a welcomed reward.
oh, okay. i’m sorry i spoke of your girlfriends vagina in such a maner.
thing about it is, i don’t even want that word on your mouth. not even up in your dumb dirty head.
she’s not the only one with a vagina ya know.
yes, yes. oh, and also, i am running out of beer. and patience. “In the film noir tradition, but with the intense and graphic violence of the Lock Stock and Layer Cake genre, Slevin is really a caper movie, and frankly reminded me more of The Sting than anything else.”
sounds likes a sissy movie if ya ask me! one with lace panties and strawberry shortcake.
i love lace panties and strawberry shortcake.
Filed under: Thawed
4:10 PM
“I could probably kill someone each day around this time, no joke. I need to leave my house.”
“Someone just pulled into my driveway as well.”
“Everytime someone knocks on my door I want to bash their lights out. I don’t care whose going to the store, if there are messages for you, there will be notes, if there is news, I’ll be sure to tell you about it. so… FUCK OFF. Every little fucking thing!”
“You need a cabin.”
“I mean, honestly, whointhefuck needs to know that you’re going to be at Amy’s soccer game. Really. She heard the phone ring from her car in the driveway, and she hurried right back in to knock on my door and see if it wasn’t for her. I wanted to knock her over. Get out of my room. My room is my apartment. And when my door is closed (which it is often), then do not bother me. At all. Unless the house is burning down, and I can still make it down the stairs, I just don’t care what you’ve got to say. (now’d be a good time for a welp, I think)”
“Welp. I feel the same way. Thank God I don’t have any more little sibs running around.”
“It really puts a meat hammer into my head, it really does. The business end of a meat hammer, that is. ‘That’s the whole trouble. You can’t ever find a place that’s nice and peaceful, because there isn’t any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you’re not looking, somebody’ll sneak up and write ‘Fuck you’ right under your nose. Try it sometime.’”
“Oh Holden, how have you been these days?”
“To tell you the truth, I’ve been sick as hell, just sick to potatoes about all these phonies swarming around like gnats at a damn bbq and I keep walking around like I got this bullet in my guts, like I’m spilling blood all over the place.”
“Welp, start moping it up.”
Filed under: Frozen
To: Piano
From: Moses
Date: October 9, 2004
I haven’t ever seen the washer and dryer in my apartment. My clothes are washed, dried, ironed, and hung neatly back into my closet before they have a chance to hit the floor. Of course, I didn’t ask for this service, but I’m not complaining either… I think perhaps it’s included somewhere in the subtext of the boyfriend contract… A clause of some sort maybe. I do know that the dryer is sometimes squeeky when I’m trying to watch TV, and I’m told there’s a knob missing somewhere.
I have become, like so many others, a member of the working pool, a slave to the exploited hierarchy of labor that makes up the American corporation… In this case, I am a whore to The Border’s Group, inc. But it’s not all bad. The people are nice, I get 33% off, and they tell me I’ll be receiving monthly gift cards for thirty bucks pretty soon. It does sometimes feel like the entire staff is merely on a pit stop in the gay pride parade though. I will tell you this: I feel a bit like you must have at Purchase.
I have a cat. He’s all black and when we call him, we call him Otis. I’ve decided that his theme song would very likely be ‘Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay’, if for no other reason than he shares his name with the R&B artist whose aforementioned song happened to be playing when I named him. Otis sleeps on our heads, and he wakes me up at 5am to play and to hand-feed him spring water from a glass. I don’t mind though… I’ve never in the history of my life been able to sleep all that much at night anyway. At the moment he is stalking the computer screen, wiggling his ass and waiting for an opportune time to pounce on the blinking text bar. He’s really quite something.
At the moment Dave is visiting his boss somewhere, and I just dropped Nicole off at work. Everything is yellow now, and it’s going to storm. I might actually get some much-needed writing done. I have been tinkering with several different ideas/stories/etc., but I must confess to you, dear reader, that I have not been writing as much as I should. I work and I drink instead. I am convinced time and again that bad habits, like construction work, have a way of chasing me around, skulking in the shadows and praying on my weaknesses, disrupting a fundamental part of yours truly. I have to admit, though, there is a strong sense here that I am at the very cusp of a breakthrough, after which such petty bullshit will no longer prevent me from willfully carrying out the creative endeavors of which we have so often and anxiously discussed.
I’m sure that there’s much more to say… I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I set out to impress upon you (and to be honest, I’m truly not even sure what that was, if anything). Alas, I ought to go while the time is still right. I will be home at the end of this month.. Might even try to stay until Tuesday, with hopes that I’ll actually vote. Plus, I have had much difficulty squeezing everything it is that I’ve had to do when I come home into a single, lousy weekend. It would be nice to have a chance to relax a bit. For now, I leave you with this: The story I’m going to write in a few moments is about a balding, middle-aged man working as inspector #27 for the Wrangler Jeans Company.
end transmission.
Filed under: Frozen
To: Piano
From: Moses
Date: November 9, 2004
Two nights ago there was an aurora borealis. I happened to be sitting on my couch reading The Teachings of Don Juan (interestingly enough, Borders allows employees to borrow books). I’ve been going back and forth between that and a physics book about space-time and ’superstrings’ and symmetry and ‘the theory of everything’ (coined, of course, by Einstein, and beleived to be the supposed ‘holy grail’ of physicists).
I was unaware of the cosmological phenomenon until the next day (oh beleive me, I was pissed that I missed it… apparently, if one were so inclined, one could have watched an amazing show of light beams streaking horizontally across the sky…
eerily illuminating).
Anyway, I found that night — for reasons that were beyond me at the time — that I was capable of controlling and bending light, etc. There I was, a grown man — and stone sober no less — succumbing to what I assume could have been nothing short of an illusion created by my mind. Still… As I willed it, it became so.
Ok ok. Enough nonsense for one email. Halo 2…. is nothing short of AMAZING. I of course opted for the special edition, complete with a hard metal case and a bonus disk. Dual-wield (weapons) is too much. And by too much, I mean perfect. It’s just right…
Butter on the pancakes, if you will.
There’s more up in my brain someplace that I know I wanted to say, but those thoughts will have to wait their turn, ’till I have a chance to unravel them. Just thought I’d drop you a quick letter that might be of interest to you. Perhaps you’ll chuckle… perhaps not. Either way, I don’t really care. I have to go now. My planet needs me.
Filed under: Frozen
To: Moses
From: Piano
Date: November 8, 2004
i spent hours trying to get billy kistner’s G4 working. i had dinner with my father and brother (my mother is in florida as we read) and afterwards i headed upstair to try to fix this behemith of technology to no avail. i did everything i could and nothing. nothing! so i said, the hell with it and headed downstairs for some cidar. as i walked down my bending front staircase i glanced out the window. i imedately stumbled and almost crashed directly into the old singer sewing maching in our foyer. i gained my balance and ran back upstairs to find my father. “daaaaad?” i yelped… he was on the phone with my mother, chatting about the flight down and the weather. “yeah?” he said without turning around. “uhhhh, have you seen it outside?” he just smiled. calmly, like a father does. “it’s snow aaron.” “i know! what the hell is going on?” honestly, i felt as though i had left my room and walked into a dream of some sort. “it’s all over the place,” i said. “it’s not on the road is it?” he asked, “because i’ve gotta get the four wheel drive fixed before you can use it.” i pressed my face against the wall in the hallway and laughed halfassed. i couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. my father is the champion of that.
your father and my father need to be scripted into a film.
period.
end of story.
i went to the bar tonight moses. don’t be sad. i do it all the time.
…no wait…
i ment to type, i don’t do it all the time.
i had a manhattan and left.
upon leaving the bar, i instantainously had the idea for the email along with the subject.
ah yes… i sip upon natural ice.
i swallow.
my ears tell me i am hearing say anything.
my brain is telling me that it might be too loud.
HA HA HA SHOW ME WHAT YOU’VE GOT!!!
i think i’m gonna go mix a cd for a little while and go to bed.
of course… at this point hgeaooreiahgoirehgowewoihoi HALO 2.
and i hate you.
Filed under: Thawed
“You suck balls.”
“How many times do I need to tell you: I lick them, tenderly.”
“Go get your ear module. Now.”
“Ear module?” *laughs*
“It’s waiting for you.”
“It’s humping my desire… dry humping.”
“Ohhh Dave! Wrap me around your sexy wop head! I want you to spit on me!”
“Whatinthehell is going on over there?”
“That’s what the ear module is saying to you.”
Filed under: Thawed
“So uhhh… where are you gonna work?”
“At the orange store.”
“Home depot?!”
“No. I will not work. Ever again. I will eat delicous sandwiches and drink beer and you will make those sandwiches for me and you will not spit in them because you fear the wrath of a man without his sweet delicious sandwiches. And that will be the story of us.”
“Am I getting paid to be your cook?”
“No… well, yes. You will be paid in giraffes. Two giraffes equals roughly a nickel.”
“Wow. I don’t know about this.”
“The ratio of giraffes to dollars is about 1:20 depending on the strength of the yen.”
“Wait, when did I get this job? I don’t even remember signing up for it.”
“You were chosen by a panel of judges.”
“Judges!? I wasn’t told about any judges!”
“To tell you would have compromised the entire endeavor.”
Filed under: Frozen
To: Moses
From: Piano
Date: November 10, 2004
and secondly…it’s a time thing.
a passing of time thing again.
two years since we dated.
two years we dated.
four years since i dated the other one.
two years we dated.
six years.
eight years.
twenty-two years.
it’s boring to talk about these things i’m realizing. but ever so fascinating. it’s kinda like getting excited about the fact that the sun came up again today. “holy shit man!!! did you see it this morning?” see what? “the sun!” yeah… “what’d you mean yeah? the fucking thing came out from the edge of the horizon again.” ya know, it does that a lot. “i know, but i still can’t believe it keeps doing it.”
etc. etc. etc.
i never know where these emails are going to take me once i sit down and begin them. it’s just an outlet to pass time in my timeless passing life.
i’m gonna go make some eggs.
