ShagmoorLounge

November 10, 2005

My fucking bitch in law is back from Africa. Who the fuck goes to Africa at this time of year anyway? Stupid bitches with too much money and time to waste, that's who. We all went out to dinner tonight. We went to the Shenandoah, which the fucking bitch didn't think was great enough for her big reunion with her daughter, but she let my wife pick the place so that's where we went. It was so wonderful. Me, my wife, my fucking bitch in law, and my old friend Douglas the dick. Boy how I wish that moment could have lasted forever. It warms my heart to know that old Douggie boy's just a ho. He asked me how the leg felt and if I missed the crutch of walking with a cane. What a fucker. I asked him how it was playing hide the salami with the old kootch and if she paid him in cash afterwards or he billed her in hours.

We sat down to it. The fucking bitch has a proposal for us. If we declare her mother of the year, and tell everyone what a wonderful person she is, she'll pay for my wife to go to any school she wants. Turns out the fucking bitch had so much fun fucking up my wife's life, she can't wait to do it to her two other kids. Those kids are fucked no matter what. It's the lesser of two evils there. They've got either their evil Republican Christian Right dad or the psyhotic suicidally selfish lush of a cunt mother. Maybe they should just auction those kids off on eBay.

You all would have been very proud of my wife. She told her mother and the dick to go fuck themselves all the way to hell in so many different ways, even the waiter was grooving on us. She told them she was heading off to work in a legal brothel in Nevada. That didn't impress them. So we started in about her "special" line of clothing for pre-teen prostitutes. We also racked up the bill, which isn't hard to do at the Shenandoah. All you have to do is start ordering wine. We drank plenty. The lush mentioned repeatedly how insensitive it was to drink in front of her. That may have been when we ordered the third bottle. The dick thought he was gonna be able to reason with us, but when in Rome, ya know?

We took a cab back to my wife's place. I told her she should help her old mom out. Can you imagine how much damage we could do in front of a judge or opposing counsel? That could be more solid gold family moments for damn sure.

I still have to go to physical therapy. I'm still getting my massage. My therapist gave me a soccer ball. I'm supposed to be practicing with it. The leg's still a little gimpy. I fell twice doing my soccer practice. Goth drew all over the ball to make it look like Wilson.

I'm keeping very busy. It's the way I prefer things. I'm keeping very busy because I feel like something's headed my way. I dream about Gio. I hear the engine of that fucking Expedition coming down the hill. I see Gio scrambling to get the fuck out of the way. I feel like that. If I'm quiet for a minute it's like I can hear that fucker coming for me. That stupid, inbred, hillbilly Big Mac eating, whore fucking, Fox 11 News watching, worthless sack of drunk shit is coming right for me and I'm in the middle of the road. Should I run this way or that way? Does it matter? Fuck it. I'll just stay busy. I'll just work through it.

Henry Rollins still thinks of Joe Cole every day, right? But see they were the best of friends. I hardly knew Gio. Maybe in ten, 15 years it'll wear off and I'll forget all about it. I'll forget seeing Gio fly through the air like a popped balloon. I'll forget all about that freaky wet crunching sound he made when he landed. I'll forget all about Brigid's screaming.

It's weird, though. Looking at people like my fucking bitch in law and Douglas the dick, people like that make me want to smash plates and wine bottles on their heads. I want to stab them in the eyes with forks and yell at them to wake the fuck up. I don't, though. I just sit there and make nonsense come out of my mouth.

They give pain away for free, people like that. I just don't want any more of it. I want to put them out of business, the pain merchants. My fucking bitch in law has so much of it, she has to have a pain broker. That must be where Douggie comes in. My poor wife. She was raised on the stuff. She needs to be weened off it. I don't know if I'm the man for the job. I was raised on a steady diet of violence and bullshit myself. We need something new. Something completely, totally different.

The Shadow knows 1:37 AM
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