Fucked Up Mailing List 2011: Round 2

[Nephew Twiddleton]

You just saw an opportunity to say Diddlertown

[Nephew Twiddleton]

Dok,

Response written. It just has to be transferred from a composition notebook to a word file and then printed out and mailed.

[Iason Ouabache]

Letter received. My wife called you a douchebag. I'm sure she meant it as a term of endearment. I'll reply sometime during this week while she is off tending goats.

[Jenne]

Iason, the beauty of the above is that you meant every word, didn't exaggerate or obfuscate.

[Doktor Howl]

Letter received. My wife called you a douchebag.

Did she?  For real?  

Will post copy tomorrow morning.

[Jenne]

I see what you meant by Diddlertown's letter.   

  You weren't kidding when you said you'd tease him by calling him that.

I lurv it. 

[Iason Ouabache]

Letter received. My wife called you a douchebag.

Did she?  For real?  

Will post copy tomorrow morning.

Not sure if I mentioned it before but she's originally from Terre Haute (while I grew up on Phox's side of the river). I don't think she read the entire letter, but she saw that part.

 

[Doktor Howl]

Letter received. My wife called you a douchebag.

Did she?  For real?  

Will post copy tomorrow morning.

Not sure if I mentioned it before but she's originally from Terre Haute (while I grew up on Phox's side of the river). I don't think she read the entire letter, but she saw that part.

 

I won't hold it against her.

Hey, I'm laid up with the stomach nasties today, and the letter is on my work hard drive.  Will post tomorrow.

[Doktor Howl]

Dear Iason,

Where the hell have you been, man?  Are they keeping you prisoner down there in Indiana?  Do you need assistance?  Just say the word, and we'll have Doktor Phox and a few stout rednecks from Morris, IL, there to bust you out.  We can't let the bastards push any of us around, or they'll start thinking they can push all of us around.

I knew Indiana was going to go bad, long before they put up the razor wire & towers.  I DID warn you, you may recall.  I am, however, used to my prophecies going unheeded until it's far too late.  I am like Cassandra with gonads, I tell ya.

You see, I've spent a lot of time in Valparaiso and Chesterton.  I once even took highway 20 all the way to Hammond...Bad times, man, bad times.  Every town we went through had one of those snake-eating/cyanide-drinking churches on every block, and all the locals just sort of stared at me.  I didn't hit the brakes for anything for 50 miles.  Just ram the gas pedal to the floor, yeah, give the mutants a taste of the chrome, see how fast they get out of your way.

I had to pee in a jug, of course.  Who the hell would get out of their car in a situation like that?  I've seen Deliverance and all the cheap horror films.  Some dumbass gets out of his car in the opening shots, and the hero finds his car - or his remains - later on, as a foreshadowing thing.  Well, let me tell you, I'm the fucking main character, and I make a boring movie, because I don't stop for SHIT in places like that.

So maybe a few hicks go over the hood.  I'm okay with that, given the alternative.  This is not my first BBQ.  No.  I have heard of the bloody rites that go down there, with people being killed and thrown into the bogs.  I've seen the hideous, unspeakable glyphs inscribed in the menhirs you guys use for picnic benches & bus stops.

One wonders what the locals do in places you can't see from the road.

So, if you're still running loose, post at PD, and remember to give the secret signal, so we know it's you and that you're not being coerced.  If not, we'll assume the worst and wipe Muncie off the map as a warning shot.  Phox is a cold, calculating, & ruthless killer, and she will take pleasure in doing so.

It's not the state of Indiana that bothers her, she's told me, it's the Hoosiers themselves.  They look like American Gothic with a big lop of Cthulu dropped in.  The eyes are too round, the mouths are too wide, and the head is vaguely triangular, as are the shoulders.

Her fondest wish, it seems, is to cleanse the entire state with HOLY FIRE™.  Especially those spags in Terre Haute, whom she blames for the awful degeneracy in the Appalachian states.  She's always been a little quick on the draw, but so far I have restrained her from doing something that nobody will actually regret...So you'd best answer this letter posthaste AND post at PD.

Anyway, enough with the unpleasant necessities.

The news on this end is remarkably good, for Tucson.  My oldest has graduated high school, and in September, he's fucking off to the Marines for 5 years, and will thus be off the payroll.  My daughter is still plotting my death, which is more than you lazy bastards can say.

Also, our entire state is on fire.  Just thought I'd mention that.  It doesn't seem to have made many changes, though power to New Mexico and West Texas may be cut off when the fires overtake the high tension lines out by Benson.  I never liked them, anyway.

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot...The meth heads have shot ANOTHER Good Humor Man.  I mean, it was horrormirthy the first time, but they really should get a new bit, you know what I mean?  Fuck, there's 2 convents and a Buddhist monastery here, for fuck's sake...And more Scientologists and Mormons than you can shake a stick at.  They should try to out-horrible themselves, not repeat the same tired schtick.

We also took a perfectly good, antique trolley system, and replaced it with shiny new cars that don't fit the tracks, and don't have the balls to get up the hill from 4th Ave to the Legal District.  On weekend evenings, you can sit at the Eclectic Cafe on 4th and listen to the horrible rending noises and the screams of tourists & snowbirds.  Almost everyone hollered at Mayor Walkup for that, but he doesn't seem to care.  He's taken to drunkenly staggering around The City at all hours, screaming obscenities into people's windows.

When anyone complains, he just laughs this nasty little laugh and says "I PAY the police, fool!  Now shut your gob before I have them come search your house for drugs & missing fat little boys!".  He will, of course, be reelected...He's the only republican in Southern Arizona who isn't crazy.

Our SWAT team shot some ex-Marine 60 times (11 bullets of the 71 fired missed and went out looking for someone else to explain the 21st century to), for reasons that nobody, not even the commissioner, can properly explain.  It was just one of those routine warrants that went all sideways.

Our cops, you see, are great, but our SWAT team is a joke.  They aren't allowed to use their armored car anymore, after they mistook 6th STREET for 6th AVENUE, and drove backwards through what they thought was a meth lab...But when the ramp came down, all the trigger-happy gun bunnies were aiming at some old lady doing her knitting.  You'd best believe SHE got paid, alongside her free education in 21st Century America™

Okay for now,
Dok

[Doktor Howl]

Cram's & Khara's letters are done, after a delay...They go in the mail tomorrow.

Next up:
Alty
Remington

[Jenne]

  Received. 

Hee hee.  I am giddy now.

I'm about to turn 38 and I'm as giddy as a kid in puppy love.  (yes, something is seriously fucked up about me, but that's what Roger's letter inspires in me)

I am now plotting my return love salvo.  *salutes*

[Doktor Howl]

  Received. 

Hee hee.  I am giddy now.

I'm about to turn 38 and I'm as giddy as a kid in puppy love.  (yes, something is seriously fucked up about me, but that's what Roger's letter inspires in me)

I am now plotting my return love salvo.  *salutes*

Oh, dear.   

Will post letter here in the morning.

[Remington]

Cram's & Khara's letters are done, after a delay...They go in the mail tomorrow.

Next up:
Alty
Remington

Woo! Your letter might be late in arriving due to the Canada-US temporal distortion. Also the fact that Canada Post is on national strike.

[Doktor Howl]

Dear Jenne,

You really have to get out here, woman, and you can bring that husband of yours with...We really must get together and do something grotesque before we die.  Judging from the tone of your posts, this probably comes across as a tempting offer.

And why not?  Tucson is heaven, complete with junkie angels and the meek.  Oh, yeah, we have the meek...This place is a veritable collection point for the meek of the Earth.  They crawl across the landscape, under the pitiless sun, looking for a bridge to shade under.  They know that Jesus saves, but are reasonably certain that they aren't on the list. 

And they know that nobody is going to save them while they're waiting for Jesus to save them.  So they content themselves with the song of the junkie angels, who sing to them of razors and broken bottles as they look for anything negotiable that the meek may have on their persons, and then it's off to the dumpster mausoleum for them.

Just another day in Side Effect City.

Failing that, I'll be in San Diego for my son's Marine graduation sometime in December.  I shall have Enabler and TGG with me at the least, and we'll try to get there a day early, so you can show us the sights in your city.

But I have to tell ya, it just isn't the same as coming HERE, and getting the full effect of Holiness™ that The City has to offer.

Well, enough of that.  The point is, you need a vacation from the insanely busy schedule you have set for yourself.  How you stand it is beyond me...For example, my reaction to the PTA here has apparently made me unwelcome at their meetings.  It reminded me of dependents' meetings in the army.  There's always two or three folks who have set themselves up as the "authority", and feel that all decisions of any kind must be approved by them (in the army, it's usually the executive officer's wife, in the PTA, it seemed to be whichever one(s) drove a Lexus to the meeting (Driving a Lexus doesn't guarantee that someone is a prick, but that's how you bet.).

And those aren't the kind that appreciate comments from some hulking, bald goon who has less than ideal respect for the august personages mentioned above...Especially when the remaining student in my family is a known troublemaker and scofflaw.

I am, of course, referring to my daughter Keelin (TGG at the board), who loves a good brawl & has a distinct distaste for authority.  She thinks like an adult (by my definition), and resents being told what to do by stupid people.  She will, of course, have to come to terms with that, as the world is ass-deep in stupid people in positions of authority, pretend or otherwise.  I really should take her along to a PTA meeting, so she can get a sneak preview of what happens when big fish are set loose in a very, very small pond.

Oh, well, it is what it is.  She will - or has - been told the same thing idiots have been telling me for my whole life..."You don't have the proper attitude." 

I disagree.  When they say "proper attitude", they mean "deference to bizarre societal norms and of course themselves as representatives of those norms".  My response has always been, and will always be, "one finger on each hand up".  I am pleased to say that my daughter has the same attitude, and has no fear of the problems that this inevitably causes.  She's never complained about being victimized, because she tends to beat the crap out of anyone that attempts to victimize her, whether that beating be a physical one, or simply a devastatingly scornful verbal response.

This attitude will serve her well in the America™ in which she has grown up.  She understands, you see, that being a good citizen only works if you live in a good society.  We don't so being a good citizen is a good way to get shat upon for your whole life.

Funny, isn't it?  A "good wife" means you know your place.  A "good employee" means you are willing to be shat upon for any reason or no reason at all.  A "good citizen" means you knuckle under to everyone in any position of petty authority.  In short, being a "good anything" means you are a poop-receptacle of one kind or another.

So Keelin and I have decided that being "good" isn't on our agenda.  No, we're having more fun being asshats, and it's been working for us.  Not only do the fnords NOT get you, you get ahead.  It is in fact true that nice guys finish last, but it is also important to remember that "not nice" doesn't necessarily equate to "being a piece of sociopathic garbage".  It simply means you don't stand perfectly still while some yahoo shits down the back of your neck.

Let the "good citizens" cluck like outraged chickens; I'm here for a good time, and that usually doesn't mean doing what's expected of me by others.  The distinction here is, I take care of the people I care about, and I disregard the expectations of people I don't care about, whether those people be relations, associates at work, or the yahoos over at the HOA. 

Fuck those people, Jenne.  They aren't MY people.  They are tiny, harried little souls that wouldn't know a good time if it showed up in a leather harness & gimp mask, waving a bottle of booze and wondering where the party is.

You know, like us.

Okay for now,
Dok

[LMNO]

Amen to that one, Dok.