Don’t Worry, Be Happy

January 31, 2011

Smiles, everyone


I’m sorry

January 31, 2011

I’m sorry for eating the last of that pizza in the fridge.

I drank your last beer; sorry about that.

I also am sorry I keyed your car, knocked down your tree and pissed in the bushes beside your house during a drought. Sorry about that smell.

I’m sorry I got caught.

I’m sorry about hitting the emergency stop button in the elevator, thus making you late for work and getting you fired.

I’m sorry about that time that I smeared myself in feces, cut open your favorite down pillow, and pretended I was Frosty the Snowman. In your bed.

I’m sorry that I took the condoms in your nightstand drawer and pricked holes in the tips. Yeah, that baby may not have my eyes, but I was as much a part of his being born as you and her were.

I’m sorry about replacing all the coolwhip with watered down caulking. I didn’t even know it was possible to get it to the consistency of cool whip until I found this great website on line.

I’m sorry about pissing in your wheaties.

I’m sorry that I hit that hornets nest with the Frisbee, knocking it down not ten yards from where you were tanning in the backyard. Really, I didn’t know they were attracted to the smell of suntan lotion.

I’m sorry about that time you were on vacation, and I didn’t flush the toilet the whole week you were gone. I’m also sorry I didn’t lift the seat up that entire time. I forgot to tell you that part back then.

I’m sorry about what I put in that soda you’re drinking right now.

I’m sorry that I took all the paper clips on your desk and bent them into obscene shapes.

I’m sorry about that video of you that i posted on youtube..the one that got me banned for content…And I’m especially sorry that your mom got a link for it in one of those chain emails people send to people on their email list. In hindsight, I could have used more discretion.

I’m sorry about stealing all your shoes and burying them in the backyard.

I’m sorry I buried them in a hole next to a busted sewer line.

I’m sorry about lining your chestadrawers with tin foil, and then starting a fire. I honestly thought it would be a good way to heat the house.

I’m sorry that I’m so obsessive that I have to look at internet porn in the living room when your parents drop by to invite you to church outings. I thought they’d be okay with it since it wasn’t gay porn.

I’m sorry I emailed your parents a bunch of links for gay porn, by the way. From your email.

I am so…totally…sorry…that I dragged you out to the middle of nowhere, got a shovel out of the trunk, and made you dig a big hole. I thought it would be funny.

I’m also sorry that I left to go get cigarettes and then couldn’t find my way back to where you were.

I’m sorry you’re deathly allergic to peanut butter. Did you enjoy your nap? You know, you sleep with your mouth open.

We should probably head to the emergency room now.

Brain Case #14

January 31, 2011

Pops died a few years back. With some of the money I got, I started a foundation in his honor, for kids. It wasn’t for kids that were beaten to shit…well, not specifically for that…but it was mainly for kids that had parents that just weren’t particularly nice to them. I think Pops would have liked that. That man loved his kids, would have died for them. He just loved people, really, and kids especially, and he fucking hated people that hurt them. So I set up the foundation and named it after him. I’m a sentimental motherfucker, yeah, but mainly I just wanted people to know who he was and what he did. You know, Holly’s mom never knew about what happened with the kid and the kid’s dad until I told the story at a press conference publically announcing the creation of the maltreated children’s foundation. She laughed when she heard it. I think, her hearing that story, it finally gave her some peace of mind after Pops passed away. She kind of stopped living for awhile after he died. My kids tried to get her to go on vacations with Holly or me, but she’d just stay in her house, and talk to herself. After that, after I started the foundation…I guess whatever was in her that was keeping her from being alive finally left her, and she was able to live again. I can’t put it any better than that.****************************************************************The investigation and the lawsuit were going parallel to each other. The Senator from California and Martin-Raytheon were trading information about things, putting pieces together, trying to sort out what really happened. The biggest shock came when Tom Roberts and DeLano did a conference call with me. They forced the hospital with legal action if they didn’t allow me to take the call. The first thing Tom said to me was, “Hi, Sam. We’re moving you to another hospital. The one you’re currently in is actually owned by Brandenhoff. It took us awhile to sort it out, but they bought the hospital not long after they filed the court order.”The next big shock was when he told me that Dr Stevens was actually a plant.
Just kidding. The orderly…the one I’d grown to hate…had connections in the hospital, it turns out, and had found out that a company that owned a company that was owned by a company that owned a company that was owned by…etc…you get the picture…was actually owned by Brandenhoff. It wasn’t a far stretch to imagine the heads of Brandenhoff making the decision to cut me off from the outside world. They couldn’t cut my life support, so they’d decided to do their best to make me fucking crazier than a loon, so crazy that I couldn’t make any decisions or think straight…and that would end any possibility of a legal fight right there. I said the only thing I could at that point. “Sonuvabitch.” Tom got mightily serious at that point. “Sam,” he said. “Go on with the lawsuit. I’ve talked to our lawyers, and they know what’s coming. We’ll write it off and say it’s just us paying what we would have given you had Brandenhoff not interfered. Simple as that. That’s assuming you win the lawsuit, which you surely will. But I want you to know, I’m on your side. I’m rigging the fight. Brandenhoff decides to drag us in, we’ll fuck them. I still can’t believe…” Tom’s voice trailed off. Then the next shock. DeLano says, “Sam, does the name John Michael Jones mean anything to you?” “Nope,” I said to her. “John Michael Jones is the son of a VP at Brandenhoff. He’s gay,” she said. “Ok…and?” I said. “He was in your seat at the beginning of the flight, Sam,” she said. “Ok. AND?” I said again, “Get to the point.” “The point is, you traded seats with him, that’s what he told me.” “The fuck are you saying?” I remembered the kid, he was about 18. He hadn’t wanted a window seat…Made him nervous, he said. “I’m saying, he was going to be in your seat. He would have been the one to be where you are now. He…well, you got fucking lucky and lived, but…more than likely anyone probably should have died from what happened.”“What are you saying?”“Sam. I’m saying, your pod was rigged to malfunction.”“Are you saying…Are you telling me that someone was trying to kill him?”“Probably his father, we think.”“And you’re telling me this, while I’m at Brandenhoff’s hospital?”“You’re safe. There are in fact federal marshals on their way. The orderly you told us about…the one who told us…he’s standing outside your room right now keeping watch. Senator Robertson is currently enroute to Brandenhoff’s corporate headquarters. He’s planning on arresting some people, I think.” “Christ, fuck fuck fuck fuck.” “Yep.”
OH, yes. This is the good part of the story. “So, wait,” I said at that point. “The son is gay, or the vp is?” “The son. We think that when he came out of the closet, his father was furious. Gay hate is a rare thing nowadays, but some people still refuse to believe that it’s anything but a sexual perversion. His father was VP in charge of safety. We…”Tom spoke up and said, “Sam, we have reason to believe his father paid off some people at the airport your plane took off from. We think he paid them to sabotage the plane. And, well, we THINK that Brandenhoff…somehow they found out after the crash, and they covered it up. That’s what they were hiding. That’s why they filed the court order.”“MOTHERFUCKERS! MOTHERFUCKERS! MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!”
I started screaming, distortion from the volume maxing out, distorting the sound of my voice, making it sound horrific. The orderly opened the door to my room, and stared at me. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT ????” I screamed at him.
************************************************************All that I’d been through…you can imagine what was going through my mind. Even as a couple of doctors came in to start disconnecting me…all the things going through my mind…all the anger and hate that I was suddenly feeling…The overwhelming urge to commit murder…to hurt people…it was too much. As they started connecting me to a portable life support, I actually passed out. I never got to see the corridor outside my room, as they wheeled me down it, or look at the sky for the first time in over a year. I was unconscious the whole time, as they rolled me away to another hospital.




The orderly was there, when I woke up. I’d been out of it for 12 hours, the first few hours because I’d fainted, and the rest because I was sedated. They didn’t want me to have an aneurysm. Would have looked bad. I was now at a military hospital, under guard. Senator Robertson had demanded it, just to be on the safe side. When I came to, I was surrounded by people. Holly, Dr Stevens, Buck, Tom Roberts, Senator Robertson, Pops was even there. The look of fury on his face…Roberts had told them everything, and when I woke up and saw them there, the look on their faces…It was more than I could stand. “Listen, I love you all, and I know you want to know if I’m okay…but right now what I really need is some time alone. The orderly just nodded. He’d known me the longest. “Ok, people. Give the man some rest.” “But I’m his FUCKING WIFE!” Holly screamed. I didn’t realize…that until she said that…that she’d never really gotten over the idea that we weren’t married anymore. “Sorry, ma’am,” the orderly said, “but as his personal medical staff, I’m telling you to leave the room.” They shuffled out. Stevens looked back at me with a worried look on her face. Buck had one arm around her, the other on his cane as he limped along. I couldn’t help thinking what a weird couple they were. When it was just me, and the orderly, I started crying. “Mr. Lawson,” he said to me, “it’s just a ride. All of this that’s happening, it’s just a ride. You get through this, you can get through the rest of anything that might happen. You know that right?” He went about the business of checking my vitals, making sure everything was hooked up, and that somebody hadn’t screwed something up somewhere.  He didn’t trust anyone else to do it right.I thought about what he said, knew he was right, and I said to him, “Yeah, fuck it. It really is just a ride.”I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, as he did his nurse thing. I’d only been conscious for about thirty minutes, after having been out of it for a good length of time…longer than anyone would want to be, if they were in my position. That is to say, a brain in a jar.I kicked it there, for a little bit, just thinking about what had just happened. Gears shifting, everything suddenly warped and broken up and split apart, the situation and the game suddenly called on account of shitstorms…there was still going to be a lawsuit. But, there wasn’t going to be much of a fight. In fact, at this point, there probably wasn’t going to be much of Brandenhoff Airlines by the time we got done.


He’s THAT kind of Duck

January 31, 2011

Duck #2

January 27, 2011


Duck part one

January 27, 2011

He's a duck, you stupid sonuvabitch.