"DANCER IN THE DRUNK" is a super special fast fiction based on this amazing illustration by Zane Kozak. Oh and go visit his site, it's all up and down and boxes and shit. (It's the weekend man, I'm on vacation from articulacy. His site is great. Really.)
Enjoy...
"Yup and that's why I'm gonna blow all your bucks to train to become a stenographer pornographer. Oh yeah... That's what I'm gonna do. You don't mind do you ? You'll gladly pay for school and carrots and pencils and everything. And then I'm gonna leave you after ten years of matrimonial mliss... batribonial bliss and run off with a pornographer. Here he comes waltzing into court..."
He finger-walks his fingers on the floor. He is propped up against the wall of his room but his head weebles and wobbles. He is stinking drunk.
"Oh and I'm here just typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing everything down. Stenographering everything down. Oh but I can't do my job because he's so fucking good looking that I don't care what he did to deserve this courtly fate under the scrutiny of the judge."
Stumblingly, he picks himself up and smashes himself like a bottle of beer on the side of his fridge. He shatters into hundreds of pieces of glass.
Each piece is a broken reflection of his story.
Enjoy...
DANCER IN THE DRUNK
"Yup and that's why I'm gonna blow all your bucks to train to become a stenographer pornographer. Oh yeah... That's what I'm gonna do. You don't mind do you ? You'll gladly pay for school and carrots and pencils and everything. And then I'm gonna leave you after ten years of matrimonial mliss... batribonial bliss and run off with a pornographer. Here he comes waltzing into court..."
He finger-walks his fingers on the floor. He is propped up against the wall of his room but his head weebles and wobbles. He is stinking drunk.
"Oh and I'm here just typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing, typing everything down. Stenographering everything down. Oh but I can't do my job because he's so fucking good looking that I don't care what he did to deserve this courtly fate under the scrutiny of the judge."
Stumblingly, he picks himself up and smashes himself like a bottle of beer on the side of his fridge. He shatters into hundreds of pieces of glass.
Each piece is a broken reflection of his story.
posted by kevin spenst at 11:23 PM
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