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Idealist Boredom

A boring and or interesting person stared off into space or the newspaper or the ink or the paper. And his wife, an older woman, stared or was hypnotized by the LED screen which flashed on and off lies, God, the secrets of the universe, and meaningless dribble. Dr. Zax. A real M.D. According to the famous people which buy into alternative medicine. Everybody buys into bullshit, of course. At least to some extent. This has become a ritual every Saturday over 2 years. Not much has changed.

So the man, being at the ripe young age of 70 years, read something about a gay parade.

“This is what young people are doing this age…what a disgrace…”

The wife responded with: “BE QUIET! I’m listening. This Xana Diet sounds like what I need. It’ll make my metabolism faster!”

The old man felt like saying something about how she believed in stupid things, but he decided against it. He’s been with her long enough to know not to get in the way of her irrational thinking. It makes her life seem better than it actually was. Instead of the boring old or young person she was, she was something better in the T.V. Which was dishonest or a just a great fibber of meaning. As if life had something special to it, and that people’s lives were guided by greater or lesser things which were significant.

“Maybe I should try some of that Zax stuff,” replied the old man.

“It’ll make you live longer!” shouted his wife.

“Alright, so what do I have to do?”

“Stop eating bacon and apples. And stop drinking alcohol and coffee. They are responsible for half your body fat.”

“Really? Wow…I never knew that. That’s so amazing.”

And the old man or Richard or Dick was properly astounded enough to give off the illusion of astonishment to his wife.

“How long have we been together Emma?”

“A long time Richard. A long time. How are our children?”

“Good, I suppose. I mean, they did graduate from college. Not many people did that back in my day.”

“That’s good…that’s good…” she said almost meditatively.

Despite what some might think, this was heaven.

Filed under prose creative writing spilled ink

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Yesterday I Found a Little Present Under my Bed.

It smelled like shit in my room. I had no idea what it was. I thought it was maybe my garbage, so I emptied it. But the smell was still there. Eventually, I checked under my bed, and sure enough I found cheese that must have been there for three months. And then I noticed a bag… Literally a whole bag of bits of cheese. My last roommate must have left it there before he left the room. I never really liked him, and this is a perfect example of the kind of scumbagginess that I had to deal with for a semester.

Filed under So nasty wtf the fuck really rotten cheese scumbag roommate