A story I wrote last year

[Axanderdeath]

A day at the golf course
‘The sun was always out, and on afternoons after taking substantial amounts of drugs, the sun was the evil lord of the conformed and happy gone boring.’ De-Rick wrote, then put his finger to his lips ‘Hmming.’ The beer he was sipping was getting warm. ‘why do I hate them’ he thought, not wanting to know the answer that was some where in his
large misshapen head. Rasping in and out through his elephant like throat. His girth jiggling and rolling with each inhaling and exhaling of thought. He had really let it go, but he considered ‘it’ to be all about perspective. De-Rick’s perspective was very limited.
It had nothing to do with the town-his self loathing-the town was as much part of it as the air. The air is the same everywhere-except in high elevation and under the water where there is none-but De-Rick was not about to grow gills or climb a mountain.
De-Rick thought, swigged and started to ask himself who he was to say something like he wrote. He was judging when he believed his stance was not to have one. This never worked out for him, he judged with out wanting to.
De-Rick was a rich kid, and had everything, and when his daddy died he would have more. But for now he sat in his white art-deco room with very small furniture, which is in ‘style’ as his mother said, he hated what he wrote, he hated it!
XXX XXX XXX
De-Rick’s, father had the right idea at the right time. Just as it was becoming impossible to sell beef, De-Rick’s father found a new animal that could be slaughtered in the masses and sold. From the money his farther made from that he then went in to the porno business. De-Rick found out at chubby thirteen when he came home and heard yelling and screaming in the back of the ranch. He ran back to see his naked mother with to men in cowboy hats, he did not look at his mother for weeks, and never looked at her the way he could before.
XXX XXX XXX
“Still written them stories?” It was Tex, De-Rick’s old friend, and a classic cowboy to the state if stupid intelligence. Meaning that Tex was as dumb as an ox, but some times said something so true that De-Rick had to thank him, Tex never understood, but was very gracious about it.
“yes Tex…” He snapped down the lid of his lap top. “I thought you were going off to a card game?” A card game is played at the rodeo. Poker is played on the grounds, and a bull is let out, the last person at the table wins some kind of cash prize. De-Rick always thought it would probably be enough to cover the hospital bill.
“I was going to win until them fools phyiced me out. Yelling ‘look there!’ ‘a bull’ your not spose-ta look De-Rick and I was phyiced out and did.”
“that is too bad Tex, beer?”
“sure!”
XXX XXX XXX
Let’s leave DE-Rick and Tex siting there drinking beer in the art-deco room. I will take this time, as we fade out from them to me siting in a white room-smoking a piep sipping on whiskey-looking, with my ‘I’m with stupid t- shirt,’ very distinguished indeed. I will take this time we have to tell you about Illglands, De-Ricks home-town, in Alberta.
Kalaca was the native name, and for some reason the Canadian government used the English meaning-Illglands. Founded by cattle farmers that got drunk and wondered off. This is evident in the large monument in the centre of town which depicts two swaggering drunkards.
Illglands claim to fame was that one year only 30 people were killed by motor vehicle accidents involving alcohol, but if you check the town record there were another 150 caused by hung over drivers. Although this is still involving alcohol I guess it is not the same as being drunk? All of these crashes were probably involved with Tex’s dad, and at that time town bootlegger.
Tex’s dad, Harold, with bootlegging money funded a campaign and landed him self the job of mayor, and put up the sing that reads ‘only 30 motor vehicle accidents involving alcohol in 1956’ on the way in to town. Tex’s dad was a ‘good old boy’ polotician and made a lot more money than he should have being mayor-probably some very big scandals-or money making opportunity. Tex stands to inherit millions.
Sadly (I say still looking very distinguished) But that is about the whole history, oh, their was also, a couple years back a swamp of undesirables with England about 6 years ago. This was the one and only decision, politically, Harold has aloud his son. Back to the room…
XXX XXX XXX
“that’s good beer”
“yha, no one makes it like Illglands!”
“that’s for sure. Hey how about some golf?” Illgalnd has a wonderful golf course.
“sounds good” De-Rick said saving his writing.
Tex had a caddie 81, Gary and dark blue bastard, and I don’t know much about cars, but this looked cool enough. De-Rick had read the manual to Tex when he got it, Tex did not go to much school, instead drinking beer with his pops on a hill watching clouds, trying to shot them, and gofers. De-Rick hated golf in a way (rich people getting back to nature by making a fake environment) but Tex liked the drive there were a couple hills Tex liked, a lot. When De-Rick told Tex about golf Tex said:
“You like what you like, so fuck em’” A really visionary statement if you give little or too much thought.
XXX XXX XXX
Brandy Sheffield and her parents Geoffrey and Linda Sheffield moved to the trailer park by the golf course from England. Brandy liked watching “dandy fellows” play around on the course. Tex knew this, and to De-Rick’s dismay drop his pants and play with them around his ankles. This did wonders for De-Rick’s game. De-Rick thought that the British breed of trailer dweller was particularly annoying. He wrote a poem about it.
“Long legs,
eating eggs,
not whipping the yolk.
Prancing in your halter top,
Dignified trash
You’ll give a rash*

Master of the known world, of the trailer trash cast…..” It was entitled ‘brandy shetfeil’ De-Rick considered some of his best work.
Brandy came down this day:
“How you boyz_ doing?” When she said boys she leaned forwards and showed off her breast, which she had squeezed in to what looked to be a child’s shirt.
“Mighty fine now!” Tex exclaimed he tiped his hat with his golf club, and suavely pulled up his pants. De-Rick looked away.
“Whats wrong there big feller?” Said brandy cupping De-Rick balls.
“Ahh, errr?!” De-Rick was not used to attention from females. He liked it and was also repulsed. This whore! Probably would do the same with dogs!-And then he remembered his mother and father and thought who the fuck am I?
“na-na-nothing is wrong B-Brandy” De-Rick shaked out.
“Want ta be my boyfriend?” This meant that he was invited to Brandy’s room for a “shag.” De-Rick was interest in this prospect, Tex on the other hand was not.
“Brandy we was gonna….”
“Well I want to go with this writer feller.” Tex looked at De-Rick ashamed of his telling secrets. Tex had a change of hart.
“you need a drive up the hill then?”
“NO, Brandy and I shall walk thankyou.” De-Rick said.
XXX XXX XXX
Brandy had loved the spice girls as a child, and their smutty posters were hung on the walls. It was a surprisingly clean room-for a slut. She was a painter on the walls were pictures of vegetables that resembled, De-Rick thought, penises; It was clear that Brandy liked them.
“I heard you were a writer from Tex I write too”
De-Rick was not expecting that. He thought now he would read her stuff and be blown away, and the sexual advance was just a ploy to get him to read her stuff. This was not the case brand peeled off her shirt, then peeled down her pants. A pink thong! De-Rick came too early to his conclusion.
“That it hun?” Brandy said putting her clothing back on. “will you read my writing now?”
“But Brandy you did not have to do that to get me to read your writing.”
“I know, but it was nothing.”
“Well that may be true, that it was nothing, but I would of read it with out err…”
“sex?” Brandy said, it made De-Rick feel better. She handed him a big manuscript. It was filled of very intelligent and dignified narration, and completely smutty and stupid dialogue. It was called ‘a slut and fools in a small town.”
“You see big boy?”
“yha, but you could think up all this sexual shit, all the sluting, you did not have to experience each fool in Illgands.”
“It ends with you.” Her voice sounded harsh.
“Oh brandy sure use me, but I am no criminal.” Brandy looked at him with slited eyes.
De-Rick left, and walk home. Brandy’s book comes out next spring.
XXX XXX XXX
We fade out to an out house in the middle of nowhere, a gust of win comes, the out house falls over, and there I am.
“Well kids what did you think? Did you think that Brandy was a little whore? Did you think the point that she was doing it for her art? Was her art deception, or sex, or writing, or spreading STDs? Is Tex as dumb as he seemed? Well, yes he was, but was De-Rick any smarter?”
I walk off whipping my ass. Is any one really smarter?











A story by:
Geoffrey Alexander Parsons!!!!

[jimboloco]

We fade out to an out house in the middle of nowhere, a gust of win comes, the out house falls over, and there I am.

sardonic, to say the least.

Main Entry: sar·don·ic
Pronunciation: sär-'dä-nik
Function: adjective
Etymology: French sardonique, from Greek sardonios
: disdainfully or skeptically humorous : derisively mocking <a sardonic comment> <his sardonic expression>
synonym see SARCASTIC

Am I right? Is that your intent, or do it jus fry dat way, man?
who knows why de slut did it that way?
made for a better story, tho!
does one say "thanks" to a sardonic wit?

[Axanderdeath]

We fade out to an out house in the middle of nowhere, a gust of win comes, the out house falls over, and there I am.

sardonic, to say the least.

Main Entry: sar·don·ic
Pronunciation: sär-'dä-nik
Function: adjective
Etymology: French sardonique, from Greek sardonios
: disdainfully or skeptically humorous : derisively mocking <a sardonic comment> <his sardonic expression>
synonym see SARCASTIC

Am I right? Is that your intent, or do it jus fry dat way, man?
who knows why de slut did it that way?
made for a better story, tho!
does one say "thanks" to a sardonic wit?

\

I never saw this word, Sarcastic? Sardonic?

Interesting, I ll look it up...