Hail
That’s still all you know of that, isn’t it?
I keep meaning to learn it, then I forget.
Lame.
I know, sorry.
Sorry sorry sorry, you know how many times I hear that a day?
I can only imagine.
So how you been? Like, for instance, how was yesterday?
I had a bad day. You know about that already?
There was a ‘disturbance in the force’.
That guy deserved it.
Dick cancer?
Hey that was bullshit, no man would go to a doctor for any reason and get a shrink referral rather than a blood test whatever, they only do that shit to women.
Dick cancer virus that’ll effect the need for mass partial dick removals for across the male human genome?
I might have overreacted a little.
A dick eating virus for which there will be no cure, only ineffectual insensitive counseling and antidepressants that suppress orgasms as a side-effect?
Ok, ok, that might have been a slightly disproportionate response on my part.
Plus, you’re not even seriously ill, and you know it, or you’d be here praying about that, which you aren’t, cz you know damn well you’ve just been doing too many shots of southern comfort and self-pity. Unhealthy is not the same thing as sick.
I’m not sick, that’s good to hear, I just spent $600 on herbal vitamins..
Don’t change the subject. We’ve talked about this.
I know.
I’m very nearly about to give you a shrink referral.
That’s not nice, not very forgiving.
You went home, wrote the human genome dick curse down to bind it (which you know I have mixed feelings about that magic shit anyway), then noted the date to all your witchy friends so that when cancer strikes dicks across the globe, you get personal credit. And you’re not even sorry, not even a little bit.
I’m sorry we’re talking about it, does that count for anything?
Then among other things, you bitched out that friend of yours over there, who by the way is right now looking through the church for the Hail Mary prayer, HA HEM.
Sigh, ok, I’m sorry about that, but
But – do you have any idea how often hear ‘I’m sorry BUT’?
But cmon, they fight over utterly nothing all the time – here I am, the way I am, and there they are still screwing nearly every day after 10 years whatever it is, then they start threatening to divorce each other over…what the hell was that even over?
Sooo, you’re not sorry about that either.
Siiiiigh, ok, yes I’m at least half sorry, they do have issues, it’s not my place, blablabla. Ok?
You are so lame today.
I AM sorry that I am lame, yes indeedy.
Guess that’ll have to be good enough. Say some friggin Hail Mary’s why dontcha?
How many?
Let’s be realistic: One.
Ok.
So, you’re here to discuss the polish boy.
You know? How do you know him?
None of your business.
It’s not dead hookers is it?
(stoney stare)
(pause) What’s a missalette? (falls open, Matthew 8:17, for the sick)
Go to church once in a while and you’d know.
So yeah, for the sick whatever, so you know him from ambulance driving days?
You know damn well he hates that term, why are you being passive aggressive?
I have no idea.
What do you want to talk about?
No idea. I really have no idea, but since you know him already and know Everything why don’t you fill me in on what I might want to talk about.
No.
Siiiiigh. Okay. So. Anyway, so we have this fake boyfriend scheme to godsmack Tony with basically…
Yup. Fake married boyfriend to upset the notmarried notboyfriend and maybe the other married notboyfriend too in order to get over the notofficialnowexboyfriend (before you kill him with your self-defense sonic booms, talk about “not very nice”) – you keep us entertained up here, I’ll give you that. That’s about as ass backwards as a woman born with a decent ass and curly hair can be in man-getting.
I’m gifted in ass backwards.
Great job, solid house, blessed womb, and I even let you keep the magic wand…
Ha, “blessed womb”, your Catholic phrasing cracks me up.
(stoney stare)
I KNOW, I know, ok?
Do you know? Cz I don’t know if the butthead from Wisconsin episode of South Park being your favorite quite amounts to self-awareness.
Siiiigh. I don’t know what am I worried about…I guess…thing is, it’s nice to have him around all of a sudden, he’s funny, his stories are KILLER and you know how much I love that, and I think it’s very healthy psychologically, the relationship discussions, him being at the front end and me being shat-out on the other of the whole marriage thing, it’s a useful counter perspective typa deal.
(stoney stare)
Siiiigh. I don’t know! I guess I don’t want to get too attached, it makes me nervous to be glad to hear from him mid drunk golf game, that’s awesome and I could use some new friend energy and, and, I dunno…
How do you spell his name?
What?
How do you spell his name?
Don’t you know?
(stoney stare)
I don’t know, it’s something polish, starts with an M ends in an I. or a Y. No, I’m almost sure it’s an I.
You’ve known him for years, still can’t spell his name, but are afraid you’re getting too attached?
That’s still all you know of that, isn’t it?
I keep meaning to learn it, then I forget.
Lame.
I know, sorry.
Sorry sorry sorry, you know how many times I hear that a day?
I can only imagine.
So how you been? Like, for instance, how was yesterday?
I had a bad day. You know about that already?
There was a ‘disturbance in the force’.
That guy deserved it.
Dick cancer?
Hey that was bullshit, no man would go to a doctor for any reason and get a shrink referral rather than a blood test whatever, they only do that shit to women.
Dick cancer virus that’ll effect the need for mass partial dick removals for across the male human genome?
I might have overreacted a little.
A dick eating virus for which there will be no cure, only ineffectual insensitive counseling and antidepressants that suppress orgasms as a side-effect?
Ok, ok, that might have been a slightly disproportionate response on my part.
Plus, you’re not even seriously ill, and you know it, or you’d be here praying about that, which you aren’t, cz you know damn well you’ve just been doing too many shots of southern comfort and self-pity. Unhealthy is not the same thing as sick.
I’m not sick, that’s good to hear, I just spent $600 on herbal vitamins..
Don’t change the subject. We’ve talked about this.
I know.
I’m very nearly about to give you a shrink referral.
That’s not nice, not very forgiving.
You went home, wrote the human genome dick curse down to bind it (which you know I have mixed feelings about that magic shit anyway), then noted the date to all your witchy friends so that when cancer strikes dicks across the globe, you get personal credit. And you’re not even sorry, not even a little bit.
I’m sorry we’re talking about it, does that count for anything?
Then among other things, you bitched out that friend of yours over there, who by the way is right now looking through the church for the Hail Mary prayer, HA HEM.
Sigh, ok, I’m sorry about that, but
But – do you have any idea how often hear ‘I’m sorry BUT’?
But cmon, they fight over utterly nothing all the time – here I am, the way I am, and there they are still screwing nearly every day after 10 years whatever it is, then they start threatening to divorce each other over…what the hell was that even over?
Sooo, you’re not sorry about that either.
Siiiiigh, ok, yes I’m at least half sorry, they do have issues, it’s not my place, blablabla. Ok?
You are so lame today.
I AM sorry that I am lame, yes indeedy.
Guess that’ll have to be good enough. Say some friggin Hail Mary’s why dontcha?
How many?
Let’s be realistic: One.
Ok.
So, you’re here to discuss the polish boy.
You know? How do you know him?
None of your business.
It’s not dead hookers is it?
(stoney stare)
(pause) What’s a missalette? (falls open, Matthew 8:17, for the sick)
Go to church once in a while and you’d know.
So yeah, for the sick whatever, so you know him from ambulance driving days?
You know damn well he hates that term, why are you being passive aggressive?
I have no idea.
What do you want to talk about?
No idea. I really have no idea, but since you know him already and know Everything why don’t you fill me in on what I might want to talk about.
No.
Siiiiigh. Okay. So. Anyway, so we have this fake boyfriend scheme to godsmack Tony with basically…
Yup. Fake married boyfriend to upset the notmarried notboyfriend and maybe the other married notboyfriend too in order to get over the notofficialnowexboyfriend (before you kill him with your self-defense sonic booms, talk about “not very nice”) – you keep us entertained up here, I’ll give you that. That’s about as ass backwards as a woman born with a decent ass and curly hair can be in man-getting.
I’m gifted in ass backwards.
Great job, solid house, blessed womb, and I even let you keep the magic wand…
Ha, “blessed womb”, your Catholic phrasing cracks me up.
(stoney stare)
I KNOW, I know, ok?
Do you know? Cz I don’t know if the butthead from Wisconsin episode of South Park being your favorite quite amounts to self-awareness.
Siiiigh. I don’t know what am I worried about…I guess…thing is, it’s nice to have him around all of a sudden, he’s funny, his stories are KILLER and you know how much I love that, and I think it’s very healthy psychologically, the relationship discussions, him being at the front end and me being shat-out on the other of the whole marriage thing, it’s a useful counter perspective typa deal.
(stoney stare)
Siiiigh. I don’t know! I guess I don’t want to get too attached, it makes me nervous to be glad to hear from him mid drunk golf game, that’s awesome and I could use some new friend energy and, and, I dunno…
How do you spell his name?
What?
How do you spell his name?
Don’t you kno
w?
(stoney stare)
I don’t know, it’s something polish, starts with an M ends in an I. or a Y. No, I’m almost sure it’s an I.
You’ve known him for years, still can’t spell his name, but are afraid you’re getting too attached?
Isn’t there something in the bible about ‘what’s in a name’?
That’s Shakespeare dumbass.
Whatever. Ok. I see your point, it’s just that..it’s just that there’s something under the jokes. Something I don’t want to lose.
What is it under the jokes?
I’m having those dreams again all of a sudden, where I wake up panicked I’m losing the baby but there is no friggin baby Mare, I’m sick of these dreams…I’m swimming in lakes, I wake up and I can smell the water still and feel silt to my shins, I mean the water feels good. But the drowning
What is it under the jokes? Say it.
I think he’s got the same last sentence as me, or something close.
There ya go.
What does he have to be remorseful for?
None of your business. Go ahead. Get attached.
Really? Just like that? Cz I was gonna promise not to fuck him if I can keep him, no problemo….
I didn’t say you could keep him, he’s not a stray dog, I said to go ahead and get attached. Be happy to hear from him. Knock yourself out.
But that might suck.
Sweetie, of course it is going to suck, you’re mortal whether you like it or not, herbs or not, magic or not, and that means that sooner or later, every and anything you come in here and pray about is going to suck. That’s why the prayer you never learn goes the way it goes. Maybe an ambulance driver can help you out with accepting that reality, he’s traveled the route of it a few times.
Okay…
Look at me.
(eyes closed. ‘in prayer’)
Look at me.
What?
No sonic booming at him. Not now, and not later, not ever, regardless. Not if he disappears today, not if he drives you half-crazy not-disappearing, or anything in between. Got it?
Okay.
I’m serious, you’re not going to be allowed to get away with it, so don’t even think about it. The Greek needs all the help of kicks to the head he can get, and although even you probably won’t be able to get through to him in that bunker of his, you and any other women are free to boom all you want. The ambulance driver, no.
What other women?
None of your business.
Hrrmph. Okay.
And more herbs, less southern comfort.
Okay okay okay.
That’s Shakespeare dumbass.
Whatever. Ok. I see your point, it’s just that..it’s just that there’s something under the jokes. Something I don’t want to lose.
What is it under the jokes?
I’m having those dreams again all of a sudden, where I wake up panicked I’m losing the baby but there is no friggin baby Mare, I’m sick of these dreams…I’m swimming in lakes, I wake up and I can smell the water still and feel silt to my shins, I mean the water feels good. But the drowning
What is it under the jokes? Say it.
I think he’s got the same last sentence as me, or something close.
There ya go.
What does he have to be remorseful for?
None of your business. Go ahead. Get attached.
Really? Just like that? Cz I was gonna promise not to fuck him if I can keep him, no problemo….
I didn’t say you could keep him, he’s not a stray dog, I said to go ahead and get attached. Be happy to hear from him. Knock yourself out.
But that might suck.
Sweetie, of course it is going to suck, you’re mortal whether you like it or not, herbs or not, magic or not, and that means that sooner or later, every and anything you come in here and pray about is going to suck. That’s why the prayer you never learn goes the way it goes. Maybe an ambulance driver can help you out with accepting that reality, he’s traveled the route of it a few times.
Okay…
Look at me.
(eyes closed. ‘in prayer’)
Look at me.
What?
No sonic booming at him. Not now, and not later, not ever, regardless. Not if he disappears today, not if he drives you half-crazy not-disappearing, or anything in between. Got it?
Okay.
I’m serious, you’re not going to be allowed to get away with it, so don’t even think about it. The Greek needs all the help of kicks to the head he can get, and although even you probably won’t be able to get through to him in that bunker of his, you and any other women are free to boom all you want. The ambulance driver, no.
What other women?
None of your business.
Hrrmph. Okay.
And more herbs, less southern comfort.
Okay okay okay.
