Random musings of a psychopath (I)
Boredom. It’s a killer. Right now I’m the most bored I’ve been in a while. It’s fucking hateful bullshit, really the worst part of being alive. Fortunately tomorrow I have a change of scenery. Strasbourg for a week, gonna pop in and see the Germans, maybe do a Hitler salute and get arrested. I’m not a nazi, but I find it fucking hilarious that the entire nation of Germany has banned a gesture that’s been in use since before the Romans.
My grandfather is in the hospital, he’s been in there over a month now. He had a stroke which has completely wiped his mind clean. Most old people, they start by forgetting minor details of their lives and get steadily worse until they leave the oven on all day and burn the house down or are found wandering the aisles of Tesco naked and are then taken off to be diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Then they’re put in a special care home where the nurses hit them and leave them lying in their own shit all day and everyone’s surprised by how quickly they go downhill and become completely helpless. My grandfather skipped all that bullshit and went straight from bitter old schemer to semi-conscious puddle of brain matter in a few minutes. He’ll be dead soon, he doesn’t even know his own name, and still he manipulates his sons into caring for him. Apparently he gets them to smuggle in booze and treats, to convince the nurses to give him preferential treatment and when he’s got what he wants for the day, he tells them all to fuck off home. Psychopathic resilience: his brains are mashed potato and he still knows how to make people jump and do his bidding.
Have you heard the one about Vincent Van Gogh? No, neither has he.
Have you ever eaten a tagine? It’s a Moroccan stew of meat, usually lamb, with a load of vegetables and exotic fruit. I had one the other day and it was quite simply one of the tastiest meals I’ve ever had.
The last girl I fucked was Moroccan. She failed at being a student and is now “taking a sabbatical” at Buffalo Grill. But she was hot and she really digged my good old-fashioned English charm so we fucked.
I thought I was going to get it on yesterday with a girl I know from New York City. It was her last day in France before moving home and she called me to ask a favour. She had rented a flute for the year (yes, apparently that is possible) and wanted me to take it back to the shop for her which was closed all week because France is a whiney bitch about May Day. So she asked me to meet her at this café near her hotel, and I was all ready for a nice date but COCKBLOCK! Her father had just flown in from the States and was there in the café with her. Like a true Manhattanite, she offered me 20 € “for my trouble” but I ain’t no flute whore, so I said the favour was on the house, since we were “friends” and all. Anyway, she’ll be waiting to get her 250 € deposit back once I’ve returned the flute to the shop but the trouble with that is I snapped the thing in two and chucked it in a dumpster.
Did you know psychopaths say ‘um’ and use connectives like “and” and “so” a lot more than normal people? Apparently that’s one of our most diabolical traits. People are fine with the dishonesty and the occasional murder, but as soon as we know how to tell a story a bit more logically than Average Joe Loser, we’re hated. It’s all true, bitchez.
If this all seems like the delusional ramblings of a crazy person to you, it’s because I’m writing stream of consciousness. You should try it, see how you look on paper, you fucking judgmental piece of shit. This is perhaps the most honest it is possible to be, since I’m just typing anything that occurs to me straight away. No charm, no lies, no manipulation, just thought. Anyway, I’ve enjoyed this post and am no longer bored, so if it gets published I will certainly write another one like it in the future.