Monday, January 28, 2013

 

Museum
 

-It’s twenty years there for Carol. 

-Hip hip etcetera! 

-When she started she typed the little cards for
the displays. 

-I remember that flying e from the old Underwood. 

-You remember nothing! Have you ever been in there? 

-Some fundraiser thing for Public TV. Weak champagne
and mini Ritz Crackers dressed up with tiny red and green bits of crap. So-oh colorful! Nearly peed in ecstasy. 

-Next time they’ll have Meatball Hoagies. 

-Yeah! Accompanying FOOTBALL AND ANTHROPOLOGY, or some such shit.

-Couldn’t make it lowbrow enough for you.

-I’d like them to try. Along with your little icy friend.

-You’ve got her wrong—and just about everything else. She’s no frozen spinster as you imply. Has a full sexual life, believe you me!

-Then the next display should definitely feature
our hot Carol. Bank of monitors showing her cunt.

-What do I see in you? A primitive!

-That’s what you see. Or rather, feel.

-If I thought, like it’s all sex, I’d commit suicide.

-It’s not. Don’t I bring you pretty flowers?

-Yeah! To get what you want.

-Isn’t that one museum circular? We could go there
and keep going round and round.

-My mother will hardly speak to me because of you.

-Power of prayer.

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Comments:
The human comedy, at its best!
 
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