Somewhere A Baby is Crying

Hey.

Just stopping by? Seeing what’s new? Ok. Well, I got a new jacket the other day. And then returned it. And then some new shoes. Was going to return those but I got gum stuck to the receipt so there went that plan. I thought of using the receipt anyway and acting like the gum was some sort of added bonus for the check out lady. Like, it hasn’t lost ALL it’s flavor yet…and it’s for you! And then she’d tell me to get out. And to take my shoes with me. After throwing them in my direction. Followed by the gum and maybe a stapler.

I could use a new stapler.

So, I went over to my brother’s ex-wife’s house the other night. Was it weird? No. It was after we had sex. Kidding. It wasn’t weird at all after the sex. Or during when she called me by my brother’s name and then her brother’s name and then back to my brother’s name again followed by a bunch of horrible horrible words that made my ears cry.

No. Wait. We didn’t sleep together. That was a joke I made to some guy who lives below her. Who I met the night I was over at her place. To go over this play I’m writing. And when we were done, she forced me to follow her downstairs so she could have a beer with this random dude that just moved in below her. “Ok?” I said. “I kind of want to go home.” “YOU’LL FOLLOW ME! YOUR BROTHER RUINED MY LIFE SO THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS GO DOWNSTAIRS WITH ME SO I CAN HAVE A BEER WITH THIS GUY!”

My brother didn’t ruin her life entirely. It’s still not over.

So, we go downstairs. And the guy’s standing there with no shirt, full beard and camo shorts, grilling pork chops over a trailer park grill that looks like it’s screaming to be shot and left for dead. “Do you want one?” He asks me. Do I want one of his pork chops as I watch him season it with sweat and I think at one point he even flicked a bugar at one of them and then laughed with some sort of satisfied accomplishment.

Is that how you spell bugar?

I denied a porkchop but extended an invitation for him to put on a shirt. Even offered him the one off my back since I was wearing two shirts. But he declined, scratched some roaches out of his beard and led us inside. How we made it that far, I still don’t know. I sort of blacked out after the moose head on the wall tried to attack me with its antlers. And I tripped over some shattered beer bottles. And tried to ignore the boxes that were throwing up pictures of this kid’s life. Pictures he apparently didn’t care for since most of them contained some random girl with a squiggle of red, circled around her head and the word “BITCH” erratically scratched above her with an arrow pointing in her direction.

Then he showed us his daughter’s bedroom. For when she comes to visit. It’s cute. And features another moose head. Or a deer. I couldn’t tell at this point. I was hoping the little girl wasn’t there. Locked up. In the closet. Screaming to be let out.

She wasn’t there. She was safe. I remember thinking how cold she would feel at night when sleeping in her bed. Because there were no sheets. Or a pillow. Or a fourth leg.

Still hanging out. And now my brother’s ex wife was drinking a beer. Great. So, we’re gonna be here longer. And I have to sit here and listen to Beardy go on about how different life is here then from where he came. Montana. I think. Something with an M. Or an ana. And how much he loves killing defenseless creatures and then hanging them on his wall as if to say, “Look what I can do far away from something when I’m armed and they’re not.” If he really wanted to impress me, he would have decorated his walls with the heads of our friends in Al Queda. Or a homeless guys. They’re fierce here. One almost stabbed me for a dollar. But I gave him a stand up hand job and that lulled him to sleep.

The only redeeming quality about this guy was his 52 inch flat screen HD Panasonic TV. And that he had his computer hooked up to it. So, I finally opened my mouth and asked him about it. So, he gets really excited and starts twitching and I think threatened to kill me or it was a joke or he was high or dying or something. But anyway, he switched the TV over from cable to his computer but forgot that before we came over he was in the middle of beating off to some girl getting her face painted by a load of cum. And my brother’s ex wife is just sitting there watching this girl getting cum pied in the face and I know for a fact that she doesn’t even like watching girls getting smeared in the face with cum or any sort of porn for that matter, which I completely disagree with, but really, there’s a time and place to watch a girl get raped by another man’s semen, but this was definitely not it. But Beardy thought it was and started laughing. But a manaical laugh that made me shit my pants and has now ruined any sort of porn watching experience because now all I can hear is that jackass laughing at how funny it is that we caught him watching porn.

So, I’m trying to figure out if this is fun or not and my brother’s ex wife is trying to figure out if she should move and Beardy is trying to hide his full on hardy and the girl in the porno, whose face looks like a factory of Elmer’s Glue just exploded all over it, is now being forced to taste another man’s cock. And he’s really forcing it. Like, I don’t even think she likes it because she keeps chocking and spitting and having to stop and catch her breath and then at one point I think she even threw up and I’m not sure if this is even porn anymore and my brother’s ex-wife is crying and Beardy is jerking off, laughing, pouring beer down his throat, rocking back and forth like he’s in the middle of his own personal ho-down. And then finally the porno ends and everything is silent except for the weeping coming from my brother’s ex-wife. And then from Beardy after finishing but then he starts laughing again. Some crazy mad hatter laughter that’s painting the walls with intimidating shadows like I’ve just been drugged with acid. My brother’s ex-wife is shrieking in pain, racing for the door, tripping over a dead dog’s head that we somehow missed on our way in and I’m running after her and Beardy keeps laughing like he just obtained some magic powers. But he didn’t. He’s just a fucking looney tunes and we’re his captive audience.

Finally, we made it back up to her apartment and I demanded that she take me home at that instant before somehow something rubs off on me and I go home and end up turning into that thing that now lives below her. To which she agreed and probably shattered some world racing record as we sped out of the neighborhood and into the safe comforting arms of the city.

Safe until I almost got stabbed by a homeless guy.