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Some people are born to be uncles and Captain Dave is that kind of people.
“Don’t worry. Ya don’t get used to it.”
She’s more private than your wife’s dildo collection
she is pissier than your wife when you cum in her ass
no shirt in Mexico—and
sometimes rich white people remind me of teenagers who can’t stop picking at their scabs.
It’s one of those fundamental things about being a human. The sound and the sight of someone falling down the stairs is inherently funny, especially when it’s an asshole like Fincher.
I can’t help but laugh as I drag him into the soundproof studio and lock the door.
His eyes are a ride in a theme park, two beady little balls to hell.
He’s no different from a thirteen-year-old girl writing a letter to Justin Timberlake, thinking he might write back. Fincher’s Rolodex is a motherfucking hope chest.
“You don’t even understand who you are, Robin. You’re a police officer.”
“You cop,” I say. I point at myself. “Me citizen.”
LOL
You don’t get to be anything slash anything.”
“You sick dick,”
He runs headlong into the glass, like a football player whose brain is already gone. He spatters against the walls and falls back, dead.
Idiot
And then the fun part. I plant the cactus above Fincher and his Rolodex.
I am still in foreign territory: Love’s home.
and suddenly my favorite word in the English language: We.
Love gets all hoppy and bouncy when “Love Is a Battlefield” begins to play and she is correct. This is war.
“Are you decent?” “Yes!” Love shouts, with no regard for my morning wood.
up the celebration.” Forty grins. “You are a doll. Porcelain doll.”
I can’t decide how I’m going to kill him but I do know that when rich people die, the cops actually care.
Nobody wants to get in the sandbox with the guy who sues people.”
That’s how it works here. The guy who deserves free guac doesn’t get free guac.
My fam-damn-ily,
He raises his hand for a high five and the next time I touch him, it will be different. I will be strangling him.
it’s uglier as I get closer, every sign a threat.
a toddler crying, a mother telling him to hold on baby, Mommy’s almost done, as if gambling is a job.
Business gets whack and shit happens and then what do you do? You smoke a little crack.”
None of Love’s other boyfriends had the balls to end Forty. But I do.
He only feels loved when she’s a wreck, worried about him, consumed.
Some people are strong enough to share a womb and a birthday. Love is. Forty isn’t.
verbally expunging,
the place where I can begin to kill him: the Clown Motel.
LOL WHAT
the way the world initially instructs children to love clowns even though we all know deep down that they’re creepy, old, puffy men in masks leering at children.
The causes of death are listed: suicide, gunshot, plague. The cause of Forty’s death will be me, but it won’t say that on his tombstone and I wonder how many of these stories are true.
He’s not Henderson and apparently it takes a pharmacy to kill a pharmaceutically enhanced person like Forty. I hope I have enough.
“There are just as many creative people out there who aren’t into this sort of thing. Woody Allen would never get into dirty hole of hot water.” Forty laughs. “He’d fuck a tween though.”
Every time he does coke, he fights my downers.
“A wave never goes away. Like, what if the ocean just stopped? What then?”
I dip my finger into his bag. I do like he did, one tiny bump. I shake. But maybe that’s just that feeling you get when you’re next to a brand-new corpse.
It is never a good thing when a woman is silent.
“It is a sad state of affairs when a mother’s instinct and knowledge means nothing to a detective.
But to be alive is to do it again.
He looks like he’s never held a rake or scratched a lottery ticket in a 7-Eleven.
Peach was not very passionate about women’s rights. She was passionate about women’s pussies.
I go down to breakfast the next morning and why in the fuck would I ever want to make my own waffles? Do I look Belgian?
my hole in the wall is a fetid hot zone of bacteria,
I yank the top of the waffle iron and my waffle is blackened and there is a long line; it would be a dick move to make another.
I knock on the table. He squints. “Son,” he says. “That’s a metal table.”
Lmao
