Big Fat Ostrich

Radiation Juan

Well it’s about time that Juan sends us something to post. We understand that he can barely write his name half the time, but seriously, the guy is on contract to us for something like, 20 posts at least! Anyway, here’s his 5th installment. That bastard:

Cielo de la Entrepierna

Every time his fist connected with my jaw I saw the same constellations. Through cosmic dust I imagined my tormentor to be some genius master of time and space, as if he could transport me to Cassiopeia at will. I heard his voice as I drifted past Orion.

“Where’s the fucking hash?”

Suddenly I was traveling at a billion miles a second and I was back on Earth, tied to a chair in my soiled Dockers. Yeah, bullshit they’re stain proof.

“Hash?  No comprende, amigo.”

“I’m not your amigo. Now where’s the hash?”

I wished I could tell him. I hadn’t had a hashball in months, since before that statewide bust. Pickings were slim.

“I don’t have any. You want maybe some weed instead?”

Bang. I was back in space, but I was soon brought back by the voice that, were my hands free, I’d strangle the neck that housed those vocal chords.

“If I wanted weed, I’d mow the lawn with your face. I want the hash. NOW!”

“That’s it”, I thought. The space travel was losing its edge and the fucker’s voice was grating on me.

“You really want it?” I said. “Fine. But I’m warning you. It’s in my pants.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised, you sick perv. I heard about you and Poco Colima. And the blue waffle. That’s how I picked up your trail.”

Fucking Poco Colima. They’ll fuck you and keep on fucking you long after you’ve gone.

He first cuffed my hands and then untied them from the chair, releasing my legs next.

“Stand up”, he leveled the revolver at me. I did as I was told.

“Good…now I’m going to…oh what the fuck…jesus!”

The stench hit me pretty good as well although I was almost used to it. I can’t describe it but it was still topped with Poco Colima. He dropped to the floor. I couldn’t help but laugh, vomiting as I did so.

I knelt down and unwittingly finished him off. The proximity of my crotch proving to be too much for his nervous system.

I got the keys, freed my hands and took the dude’s cash as well as his revolver.

As I pulled up my pants, I thanked god that I didn’t own a belt.

Well, well. If it isn’t me again, Dr. Dobson. I’m here to chew your ear off about something that has REALLY gotten under my skin. If you thought I was angry in my last post, well this time I’m fuming. Last time I may as well have been talking about a lovely springtime picnic with fruit baskets and frolicking. Today I’m going to talk to you about darkness, corpses and scorched earth. That’s right. I’m here to talk about Archie proposing to Veronica.

I am truly pissed at these developments. If you haven’t heard the news, after like 60 years of being treated like crap, Archie Andrews has proposed to Veronica Lodge, aka, That Bitch from Riverdale. She’s so totally a bitch and always has been and like, I don’t know what Archie ever saw in her. And believe me, I’m sure poor Betty is thinking the same thing.

Bah! Veronica Lodge…and her Dad is such a jerk ALL THE TIME. He flies off the handle for the most insignificant things, probably because Mrs. Lodge “‘cut him off” years ago. He probably has erectile dysfunction too, cause no guy with that much money is that much of a dick all the freaking time.

So Archie proposes to a big wad of cash, leaving Betty with a bankrupt heart. She was always so good to him, while Veronica (that bitch) has nothing to offer. Who could put up with her crap for so long? Mark my words, the most used phrase in the Archie/Veronica union is going to be, “not tonight, I have a headache”. Then, a frustrated Archie will go cool his heels on the Lodge golf course where an errant ball will hilariously smash the window of Mr. Lodge’s limousine or something. Yeah, I’m sure the storylines are going to be FAN-tastic. Maybe that snooty butler of theirs will get a golf ball in the crotch once in awhile just to keep things interesting. Always hated that guy!

I haven’t actually read Archie comics in a long, long time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about. Anyone with half a brain could see that, over the years Betty was the one who’d be true. So what if she doesn’t sleep on a cash-filled mattress! Has Archie become that materialistic? What happened to his modesty? Remember the old Jalopy? Does he need to marry That Thing to prove to himself that he’s moving up in the world? Come on.

Veronica is never gonna be there for him. Never! When Reggie kicked sand in Archie’s face that time on the beach, who was there for him? Eh? Who? Betty, that’s who. Where was The Big V, huh?  Well I don’t remember either, but she definitely wasn’t helping. That bitch.