"WHAT DO YOU SAY WHEN YOU SAY WE FIGHT ?" is once again a very special fast fiction (How can they continue to be special every single day ? I don't know, they just are !!) which is based on this wonderful illustration by the very talented Rina Donnersmarck
So sit back in the autumn coated branches of your favorite tree, read these words on your laptop and enjoy...
He calls the cat by a term of affection which is usually reserved for me. Sugar. What a stupid thing to call someone anyway. My little white crystalline solid.
And I lower my rump into my chair in the living room and wait for him to apologize.
He strokes the cat as though his hand were a rake going through soil. He bought that mentally gimped cat who seems to enjoy mistreatment off of a midget gypsy named Andre-Django. That's what he told me. I don't care. It's his cat. The cat.
Sugar, he says to me in a meow.
Pathetic. I wait.
"Look, what was I supposed to do ? My mouth was pumped full of anesthetic, it had clamps sticking out of it and a drill was going into a back molar ! Yes I saw somebody breaking into your car on the t.v. in the ceiling. I couldn't do anything. And yes I think there's something funny in that !! It's terrible that your car - in my care - was stolen. But I was just channel surfing, thinking holy shit this is kind of cool , I'm at the dentist but here I am watching t.v.: The Simpsons, some MTV, Pootie tang was on. Cool, cool, cool and then I land on some security camera channel of the parking lot. And they're stealing the car, but I was too pumped full of drugs to really care !! What was I supposed to do !! I was on my back and a drill was going into my molar. Of course I think there's something funny in that !! And now we're fighting ? Over something this stupid."
The cat has had enough of his bullshit and takes off. I don't blame it.
I sit and wait for a proper apology.
So sit back in the autumn coated branches of your favorite tree, read these words on your laptop and enjoy...
WHAT DO YOU SAY WHEN YOU SAY WE FIGHT ?
He calls the cat by a term of affection which is usually reserved for me. Sugar. What a stupid thing to call someone anyway. My little white crystalline solid.
And I lower my rump into my chair in the living room and wait for him to apologize.
He strokes the cat as though his hand were a rake going through soil. He bought that mentally gimped cat who seems to enjoy mistreatment off of a midget gypsy named Andre-Django. That's what he told me. I don't care. It's his cat. The cat.
Sugar, he says to me in a meow.
Pathetic. I wait.
"Look, what was I supposed to do ? My mouth was pumped full of anesthetic, it had clamps sticking out of it and a drill was going into a back molar ! Yes I saw somebody breaking into your car on the t.v. in the ceiling. I couldn't do anything. And yes I think there's something funny in that !! It's terrible that your car - in my care - was stolen. But I was just channel surfing, thinking holy shit this is kind of cool , I'm at the dentist but here I am watching t.v.: The Simpsons, some MTV, Pootie tang was on. Cool, cool, cool and then I land on some security camera channel of the parking lot. And they're stealing the car, but I was too pumped full of drugs to really care !! What was I supposed to do !! I was on my back and a drill was going into my molar. Of course I think there's something funny in that !! And now we're fighting ? Over something this stupid."
The cat has had enough of his bullshit and takes off. I don't blame it.
I sit and wait for a proper apology.
posted by kevin spenst at 8:08 AM
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