I think I wrote this two nights ago. When people start going to therapy, it’s all they can talk about. I’m not paying anyone to listen to me talk about myself right now. Well, occasionally I buy people beers and then talk about myself. I ply folks with “blue” American Spirits. But no therapy.
PEDRO VALLEYWHISTLE: Drinkin a beer
DEB: That’s good
DEB: what else
PV: Indulgin the self
Deb: s’kool. you think people read the blog?
PV: I know they do. I can’t play a round of tennis on the public courts without a bypassing coupe breezily slowing as they pass and the driver (a sunglassed man of indeterminate age, moustache: fake) shouting, “Hey, Quailty!”
DEB: That must be nice.
PV: you’re being sarcastic, but it is.
Deb: your blog seems really well proofread. there are fewer typos than other places on the internet
PV: THat’s cos I use a new proofreading program, called Conceit. It’s made by the same company that makes the Swiffer.
deb: anmd it works?
PV: it really does, deb.
[they make love]
deb: that was… how do you say… ‘bad sex.”
pv: i know. I have bad sex on purpose sometimes, just to mix it up
deb: Wait why
pv: um, because if you only have the good sex, then it gets really… you know…
deb: ok, whatever. let’s try again
[they have “the sex of teenagers”.]
[they have “the sex of women”]
[they have the sex of squirrels]
[they have the sex of the mindless]
[they have the sex of the ruptured manqué]
[they have johnson’s dictionary–style sex]
[they have john candy sex]
[they have marcy playground sex]
[they have john cougar mellencamp sex]
[they have precious windchime sex]
[they fall asleep]