Stab him ’til I catch a hand spasm
another unbelievably & definitely fictitious slice of Ken Dushek’s wonderful life
“Tell him I said to go fuck his mother.”
“And if he don’t like it, he can come to his mother’s house….”
“where I’ll be fucking his mother…”
“Tell him to come to 2312 Olive street,” we both laugh together at my cute Rick reference when he fought the President in the Oval office.
“He’s drunk at a bar at noon in the middle of the afternoon at a business conference, making a fool of himself with these college face photos he sends you. What if you were a 19 year old newly wed with giant tits out there.”
“Yeah really, you’re right,” she finally chimes in some semblance of support, quite surprisingly; however she may be indirectly insulting me via her own self deprecation.
“I will beat his fucken ass.”
Don’t try to convince him I’m a good person. He’s a fucken piece of shit. I saw that in Vegas. Fuck his mother? Is his mother dead yet?”
“No, she’s still alive. Kind of cute little thing actually,” my idiot wife advises. She’s not just a wife, she’s also my personal match maker of anybody other than her. Thank God she can multitask.
“That’s my fucken wife. He treats you like a whore, and somehow I’m the bad guy. Next time I see him, I’m gonna stick something real foul long side his kidney. He’s fucken swampy.”
“Great, be more like her, and less of a whore.”
“Don’t call me that!” she demands.
“Either you cheated on me with him or he’s sexually harassing you and acting like you’re protective boyfriend for no apparent reason. Which one do you think is more believable?”
“I understand how it looks…” she begins before I interrupt her.
“Don’t give me that bullshit.” I respond.
“How it looks is exactly how somebody who was having an affair would behave. You think you’re slick, but I’m the player in this relationship. There is nothing you can say or do that I haven’t seen before and know exactly what it means. Even if you didn’t physically have an affair, which I doubt, you cheated on me the second you walked out the door and lied to me about everything that went on this business trip. He’s demanding you get a new bank account? Telling you not to come home?”
“That’s not what happened. I didn’t sleep with him. He thought I couldn’t access my money so he wanted to make sure my paycheck was going to the right account. And he wasn’t saying don’t go home, he just thought it would be nice for me to see my friend…” she says.
“Are you defending him again? Holy fucken shit! Why the fuck are you defending him? Is he your boyfriend? Because his behavior is certainly just like a jealous overprotective boyfriend. And nobody acts like that unless they got some pussy. And what the fuck was with that invitation to some shady ass boat house in the bahamas? Did you honestly think I would agree to go on a murder cruise with him? Motherfucker tries to lure me to a creepy ass murder boat and you went along with it. What the fuck? If you love him then just go!”
“I don’t love him, I love you.”
“Go fuck yourself!”