After being informed by my landlady that I am not, in fact, "judge, jury and executioner", but simply a deadbeat who's always bursting at the seams with excuses as to why my rent is constantly late, I was forced to keep the shriveled-up, elderly miser at bay with the temporary (hopefully) loan of my much-coveted oil portrait of Merv Griffin (stolen from his Carmel home by a friend who was high on PCP at the time) and a promissory note for a free bikini waxing/taxidermy lesson.
The fascist hag also made me promise to dismantle my living room "sex morgue" and change the roach traps in the basement laundry room with a set of salad servers duct-taped inside my shirt sleeves so that I would "lack the luxury of the dexterity of human fingers for this particularly unpleasant task". She's also stipulated that I must wear a rubber latex novelty store bald cap "to rob me of my youthful arrogance" and that I must repeatedly curse the traps as I fumble with them (with my salad server appendages) with the specific line of dialog : "You doo doo ca ca pee pee, bad squares! Squares promise the doo doo ca ca pee pee roaches ultimate demise! Yet the doo doo ca ca pee pee roaches still appear!"...apparently she wishes to video tape me doing this so that she can upload the questionably-hilarious results to You Tube.
She may be a sadistic money-grubbing vampire, but I have to admit, if the shoe was on the other foot, I would be making the same bizarre demands. I've since made a mental note to add her to my ever-expanding list of potential Dick Tracy comic villains....I think I'll call her, "Cuntface". I think Chester Gould would approve, especially since he is dead now and can't voice his opinions concerning the direction that his ground-breaking comic strip takes in the hands of a mentally-unbalanced cartoonist wearing a rubber latex bald cap and attempting to sketch his new villain with a yellow crayon clutched clumsily between a pair of salad servers. Take that, "Cuntface!"
No comments:
Post a Comment