My Dead Wife

by Jason

Things had grown so bad that day. The kids wouldn't stop hollering about church and how come we never go - these godamn kids are all I've got these days... them... and the smokes...

But anyways, they were fussing and carrying on for a while...for the whole drive actually, until we drove by Mr. Beanshit's Liquor, or something like that, and I (very cooly) looked in the rear view mirror and cooed: "hey, anyone for...popsicles?"

That got them going alright...squealing miserable childish shit to one another as I turned the van around and headed back towards the store, slowed down right before it, then slammed down on the gas pedal. "tough break, eh fuckos?!?" I screeched into the back seat as we flew past old Mr. Beanshit's dump.

This was too fucking wild...I felt great! Man, were those kids hurt..hurt and sad, sad and hurt...."Yeah..." I smiled.

______ I guess I'll write more later___________


My Dead Wife pt.II

LIQUID handsoap? Yeah, right. They're gonna be sorry they ever laid eyes on me

With that, I turned away from myself in the bathroom mirror and walked back into the theater, which was pretty empty, so I sat behind a Mexican couple near the back.

I leaned forward and in a loud whisper said: "Asalamalakim, m'man. Terrific movie, eh? You know, I've always been a huge fan of the teachings of Dr. King - You know, all that 'Oooow...I feeel good'"

"Look man, I ain't black"

"yeahwhatever...Hey! remember this one: 'oooh ride ride ride awoOOOooooo'"

"What the fuck's up, man?"

"Fuck youyouYOU...I've gotta pee"

So I went back and found myself in that mirror.

-------- More later, I guess ----------


My Dead Wife, Pt. III

"Sometimes, you just gotta fly, man" I think it was the Aztec Gods that said that. All I know how to do right now is run...I'm running - sweatin' like a slave and running. I burst into the Market and into the longest line. The radio was playing one of those fabulous old-time tunes. I can't do anything but sing along "BAP BAP BAP BAP BAP BAP BAP" And now everyone's lookin' and lovin'...ME

I lean into the side of the old woman's neck in front of me. "We had it all" I whisper, "just like Bogie and Bacall". My nose is nestling her moles. She is paralytic with lust.

I get to the checker. "Yes sir?" I slip on my sunglasses and smile: "call me Reggae"

"Where are your groceries, sir?"

"I don't know Ma'am" I tell him, convulsing with laughter.


"SomkeSmokeSmokeSmoke" I tell him knowingly, flapping my arms quicker and quicker.

_________More LATER, This kind of Sucked__________


My Dead Wife, pt. IV

I had been in Italy for three weeks now with my parents. They insisted I wear girls clothes, because my grandma, whose house we were staying in, had always wanted a grandaughter.

Naturally, I adopted a very loud, nasaly "fag" voice; I'd often yell at my Grandma: "GRANDMA, THESE FLOWERS ARE FUCKING FAAAABULOUS" To which she'd nod nervosuly, not understanding English, nor owning a single flower.

My favorite times there, I must admit, were the hours I spent with my cousin who's name was El Fructose. He was extremely socially retarded, smiling at everthing nervously and always, always (as the Presdient says) "walking on eggshells".

Anyway, one day I decided to throw together a last minute talent show! I actually lied before, I had not yet actaully met El Fructose, even though he was staying there with all of us in my Grandma's one bedroom flat. So I decided on an icebreaker.

I pulled him into the bedroom so we'd have some privacy for our planning and rehearsal. He seemed kind of nervous because the two weeks previous I had spent glaring at him or licking my lips, never saying a goddamn word.

Anyway, I noticed his guitar in the corner: "FRUCTOTHE...THAT'S A GUITAR, HONEY!!!!"

"I'm-thinking-it-be-very-nice-to-play-songs-for-family, No?" he responded like a fucking moron.

"You fucking moron. Play me a song..." Man, that motherfucker could play - "Row-row-row-de-boat" - I was swirling in an orgy of the senses. "We're ready, bro" And we missed each other's hands in the 'high-five'.

SO, the big day came. As El Fructose tuned up, I started "ROWROWROW DEEE BOAT...." Everybody laughed, believing that I somehow blew it. "PEASANTS!!!" I shrieked, tears welling in my eyes. I couldn't breathe. As I gasped for air hysterically, I turned on my parents. "YOU!!! You're always humiliating me!!! Look at these women's clothes you forced me to more...No More...NO MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"But honey," my mother said carefully "YOU were the one who insisted on wearing those clothes" Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you that, too.


My Dead Wife, pt V (I think)

"Feelin' like it's time to act...Time to move...."
- Spock

I guess I was kind of dizzy that morning at the Roll R Cade...pretty "out there"...I had just been promoted to five twenty-seven an hour, when the boy walked by. I grabbed him close: "How fast can YOU skate, freind?" I asked the child

The child's face was smooth and dull, eyes vacant, his head bloody and bruised. He looked up at me blankly and tried to speak. He had difficulty doing this becuase of the tube coming out of his throat. "ggllurmphh" he gurggled

I cried, not for mankind and the whole crazy circus, but for the power of love.

"Well personally, I've been known to reach speed's of 28 eM Pee H" I chuckled

Suddenly another child apporached our 'throng' and tugged on my leg warmer to get my attention. "The kid's sick" he whispered

"NO!!! You're FUCKED, MAN!!!" I responded

"No, really...he's artistic..that's why, y'know...he was smashing his head against the Ms. Pac Man and screaming...he has to shit in a bag and he doesn't know how to..."

I spun around and grabbed "silly boy", who gurggled with glee. We began to skate off... "Hey mister, where you going with him?"

"I'm gonna teach him how to fuck."

When we got to the other end of the rink, I realized what his problem was. I took the tube out of the breathing apparatus on his back and stuck it in the shit sack. A green liquid shot up the air tube directly into his throat. The shit, now filtered through his lungs, seeped out of his nose along with quite a healthy amount of blood. Now he was really crying...oh brother. "It's all in the wrist..." I sighed


My Dead Wife Part VIII

There is no 'team' in 'me' - Jawa Proverb

* * *

"Knock Knock."

"Yeah, who are you?"

I paused, thinking for a moment. I decided to play my trump card: "Knock Knock."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm with the band."

Behind Mr. Door Guy, the party looked like it was in full swing. People were sitting around looking in-SANE. "What band, I don't think..."

"The name of the band is Rad China. Move."

Inside, the madness was far more intense than the wild times I was having on the porch. I sat next to a young buck in a vest with no shirt: "I guess SOMEONE decided to ignore the 'No Fat Chicks' sign at the door" I jabbed "HAHAHAHAAA"

"Excuse me?"

"The band, man the BAND!!!"

"Oh,, what do you play in this band?"

"I play The Future."

"Is that right?"

"Guess I'll be seeing you."

With that I pushed him off the couch. A tall drink of water of a lady strolled by, "How about a drink, Mr...?"


"How about a drink Mr. Sandpeople?"

"SANDPEOPLE??!!! AAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" I screamed. I was very afraid of sandpeople that night.

"How about a glass of water."

I took what she offered and gulped it down. Suddenly, I was awash with euphoria and a dizzying confidence. "WHooo!!!! I'm jushed fffucked up...wherze am I"

"There was water in that glass!" I heard the woman puzzle through my glorious fog. I guess this was it, I was going to die.


My Dead Wife, Part X

"Can I use your bathroom, I PROMISE I'll take a shit." Man, I've really got it sometimes...

"Sir, this is a daycare center and--"

Whoah...this was gonna be tough.

"OK," I went real slow, "I no-ee speakee de chinaman"

"No," she smiled, "this is a place for children"

"Yes, I heard you the first time - `Communist Restroom,' I believe you said?" Smug as shit. Now where the hell was that bathroom? Found it.

I sat down on the can, put the headphones on and click! It was the soundtrack to an obscure, underground classic called "Dirty Dancing."

I started singing "I'VE HAD THE TIME OF MY LIIIIIFE." Then I thought back to my high school graduation and I started wishing I had made a movie that they could've shown at the graduation party, that kind of highlighted the `good times.' This would've been a great theme song.

And during the slow part of the song, it could've show us all crying and saying goodbye and then WHAM...the chorus kicks in and it's like, `look we're sad but man, we had some great times.'

Oh my God...KIDS!!! I ran into the classroom: "Hello my friends. My name is Officer Rape Police. Your parents are all dead and it's your fault."

What resembled a two-year old in a wheelchair rolled her old bones over and tried to hug me. I couldn't make out what she was saying because she was gagging on her own tears. "Get the hell away from me, MONSTER!!!" I shrieked.

I guess they were right...I'd really had the time of my life.


My Dead Wife XI

Alot of people have been asking me, "hey Friedhelm, quit mouth-fucking my kids!"

No, wait, they've been asking me about this show called "The Cosby Show." Well, not alot of people watched this show, except Terrance the Oaf.

The Cosby Show chronicles the heartwarming tales of a man, another man, and our old friend Terrance.

Here's a sample:

Lazy the Mouth: "The ceremony has begun"

Cosby: "Let the purification commence!"

Gramps 'Old Man' Foreskin: "I feel the blood-birthing of the New Race!"

(Enter Rudy)

Rudy: "Can I have $3 to see the Diceman show?"




That was from the episode entitled "Dumb Death."

Here's a sample of the pilot, "Follies of 1936":

Cosby: "I wake every morning to this filth of Maggot World. At least this putrification mummifies us all from the real agony of the un-pain, awash with vomitlove. Send in the bitches!"

Yeah, too bad I don't own a TV, eh?


My Dead Wife XIII

"All you fat-ass bitches better listen..." - Ghandi (from 'Mahatma Takes Manhattan')

This was it. I'd been waiting for this moment all my life...I would ask for this person's hand in marriage.

"Uh Phineas, can I talk to you for a sec?" I stuttered.

"Sure...I, what are we doing here at Chuck E. Cheese's?"

"BECAUSE IT'S HOMOSEXUAL NIGHT!" I screamed over the blaring techno noise.

"Why the hell are you screaming," he hissed. "THE MUSIC, BABY THE TUNES!!!"

"What fucking music??!!"

Phineas didn't realize that I had prepared a special night for him. My cousin was assistant manager and together we had re-programmed the robot animals.


Oh my God, this was it... Out walked a Cheetah holding a human brain: "Hi kids, I'm Tit, your host for this evening."


"I, Tit, am God and Man. Let me introduce you to my friend, Martinez."

Martinez was my favorite, a bucket of human shit with a cowboy hat: "'member ta brush yer teeth three times a day, varmits, and flossin's good too, I reckon, fer stringin' up pros-itutes an'..."

"You will cease, heretic" screamed Tit, "and drive me to the Mall immediately.. four legs goooood, two legs baaaad...and now, ladies and gentlemen, the toast of the netherworld, Bobby McFerrin!"

"Hi kids," said the brain, "I'm Bobby McFerrin, of supergroup Living Color and the Travelling Willburys."

Children were crying everywhere. The performance continued for one week straight. By day four, a father next to me was eating his own, living, screaming child. "So Phineas," I said nervously, "will you make an honest man out of me?"


My Dead Wife XIV

You know, grandparents are funny things...not funny like "The Holocaust" funny, but funny like a toddler's operation "gone bad."

Anyway, as part of my DeVry training, I was given the opportunity to babysit my dear, old gradpaps. Paps, like most people, is like an anceint warrior prince, walking around exterminating the Hobbits like a big, damn hero.

He was always smiling, that kind of smile you get when you choke on tears and convulse and go: "Nooooo...WHY!!!!!!????" Ha! You tell 'em, grandpaps!

He'd tell me I was all he had left, and, how if I ever disturbed his mind in any way, it would just kill him.

That settled it - after all, we could ALL use some cheering up: "Hey paps - what do you get when you cross a rabbi with a pain in the ass?"

"Eh...I-I-I d-d-don't know, m-m-my dear h-heart.."

"WRONG! You get the fucking Lord of the Dance, bitch!!!"

"B-b-bi-" he he spluttered, his hands feebly covering his gasping mouth.

So now my clothes are off and so am I - doing the most feverishly sexy belly dance I can think of. As there is no music aloud in the home, I am forced to mutter erotic epithets under my breath to keep the beat.

"You like what you see?" I whisper shrilly into his ear, in my best throaty woman's voice.

"My G-g-god...oh deliver me, l-l-ord," he pants.

"You'll never get your mits on THIS body, you hot, fucking baby..." I hiss, nibbling his earlobe.

"Time for you shot sir, now bend the HELL OVER!"

Needles to say, I couldn't afford the pine box for old paps...sure gonna miss him, though...


My Dead Wife - Part XV
(or, "Portrait of the Aspiring Anacephalic as a Young Man.")

"mrrgllhmphomph," I explain.

"Uh...what's that, honey?" Mother says through her half-smile as she tries to wipe the bile seeping from my face.

Things have been decidely 'roses' since that night the happy stars danced around my head and I slept and slept. The big men walking around inside Mr. Brainy-poo have been wearing much heavier shoes. Eating always tastes like throwing up. But at least Grandma told me a really funny joke last night before the slept and slept. She looked at me and pretended to scream "Face! They ruined the baby's FACE!!!" and she must have been eating some of my food because it looked like throw-up coming out and she ran out and was yelling that they should just finish me.

Then, Father told an even funnier joke that went like this:

"Can I keep his head for a paperweight?"

And Mother pretended to cry because she knows the laughing makes the man's shoes heavier. It's hard for Daddy to make jokes lately because he says he has to spend hours and hours putting men's pee-pees in his mouth to pay for my funtime bed that goes up and goes down. I get to wear a special nightie that lets my tushie hang out because I am special. Sometimes the white man who wears white puts a tube inside of tushie.

Father has black makeup under his eyes and he pretends to shake and he pretends to cry:

"We're gonna do you just like Trigger, do like cowboys, don't you boy?!?"

Sounds like a certain, special little boy is getting a pony!

"glhdshmprhp!!!" I giggle with glee.

Lately, my family has been playing hide and seek. The white man in white says it has been three weeks that they have been playing, so I should probably look harder. Now, I have been put in a VERY special room that is always has no lights on. Now, I have even begun to talk funny in my own head.

Tomorrow I will try to look for them again, but right now I will pretend I am crying.