The Shockuation Room

Relationships are like a helpless flower you saw at the greenhouse and had to have it, just a flower right? You can look at it for a while and say, “That’s a nice flower, I am glad I picked it.”

Or, put it by the window and say, “God that flower looks great right there, and do you feel how smooth the petals are?”

And that’s fine and great, parts of plants or relationships can be looked at, admired and seen what is great about them, but, you need to water these plants, OR put some real work into relationships you care about, you can just say, I’m ok, you’re ok to a plant. They don’t get why they are bone dry.

It’s weird, but it’s what happens to humans too. Communication is sort of like the water. The flower is the relationship.

At first you just stare at it thinking, this is a really good thing. Then you start to understand that the person has some things that bother his/her from the past and needs to talk to you about them for there to be true trust in the relationship.’

Hollywood is not real life or I would be able to do a lot of cool things that I can’t do.

Once you realize the person’s (plant’s) shortcomings or parts of their lives that make them anxious, nervous or any other word to define uncomfortable. You have to be there and help them through it, not look at them like “Oh, I wonder what is going to happen here?”

Love is a verb
Love is a noun
Love is abstract
Love is sacrifice
Love is fragile
To be loved is what every single person wants to feel
Love is love

And Love is all you need according to a pal of mine John Lennon

Coyote Rush

Yo!

Yup, I said it just like that. The antenna is working overtime, but only on the bizarre stuff. I guess it is because I have it sat at weird not making sense side, instead of seriously middle east scary stuff. I might go on a rant about that in a couple of days. IT’S GOING TO BE SO CONFUSING SO BE PREPARED.

OH SWEET BABY LAMB OF THE HOLY: FOLLOW ME ON MY MY QUEST TO HELP THIS MAN THAT ACTUALLY CALLED US IN NEED OF ADVICE OR TO TALK. I said I would be gone for a week. Man would I have a little fun, our new credit card fraud was working seamlessly.

He had started writing a story by the time I got there, so it was nice to not have to write a whole story. Here is what he had came up with about confusion. ({[Have you noticed a lot of these stories revolve around girls lately?)}]

Moving on:

Now it’s time to pay attention to John Woodlog’s word crafting in a very confusing time in his life.
Here it is…..

This is mainly about girls, let me warn you:

It gets confusing when in my small neck of the woods, the county seat, a city, possibly 4,000 people live there: that has the only Walmart within, ohhhhh, give or take 50 miles… That the most attractive girls I see in my daily routine are those girls that work there: with their totally wasted lives, more than likely having kids while their own teeth rot. ARE THE PEOPLE SHOPPING OR WORKING THERE!

I went into a Walmart one time, checked out at a line and said, ummm would you like to go get some food sometime. She said, actually I would, but my boyfriend wouldn’t like it too much. I said, that’s a pretty clever way to put me down. I’m not even hurt, but, slightly embarrassed by the homeless man that smells like skank piss and is even giving me a dirty look about it, however.

The days seem like years, trees fall from the sky and cats and dogs living together!

Yup, it’s this serious.

(The confused man continued, he was writing, while talking and I was writing frantically as the bald headed short stocky dude with skinny legs ranted and raved about girls. I did my best!)

Yeah, I’m still talking, what does it matter. I can’t believe that they have a people of Walmart website and that’s where I find the best looking females. Confusing. One girl, who was probably four or so years behind me in years: works in the produce/salads/organic. The scoffing in any other Walmart would have been tremendous for not going to WHOLE FOODS!

I digress. *Les Sigh*

Back to the girl in produce. Wow. Wow! Without a doubt in the world the hottest girl I have seen in months, tucked away in grassland! Oh, lord, I just circle my cart around, pick up baby spinach, put it back, keep looking at her, grab organic romaine, walk five feet, put it down, pick up an apple, smell it, set it down, walk eight feet all the while hoping she would give me eye contact, but she doesn’t. So I continue to watch her from behind, sweet mother of Moses, this not an easy task.

It’s daunting. It’s confusing. it’s testing my manhood it’s testing my testes, oh sweet Lord of Gametes why, is that girl in grassland?!

In a few weeks I may work up the courage to say, “Lettuce huh? That’s like grass, for humans, pretty good stuff.” She will look at me and glance, immediately spacing herself away from me. I will walk away ashamed, but proud dammit all!

He then poured milk into his coffee maker, put cinnamon in it, dropped three whole eggs and filled the rest with the coffee grounds and water.

He swirled around and said “holy fuck, I’m confused!”
————————

Whew. Dagger. That was a tough one.

Not entirely sure where I found this in the many folders we had before the Shockuation News and antenna were created. I haphazardly pulled one out labelled 12-30-11.

I wasn’t even sure how in got into the folder because all the writing was done by me.

I think he wanted his suicide note to be sort of rhyme themed, but then it sort of turned into his last couple of days on Earth.

But we will talk after we read this poemy suicide letter, I haven’t read any beyond the first six lines.

Lets prepare:

Listen: Excuse some of the coarse language, I didn’t write it did I???
——————————————————–

I would love to see you one last time
My only reason would be to see you cry
You would tell me I did for one day
So just go fuck off and die

And then I would
I would just go fucking die
Somewhere in either a secluded park
Or in the middle of the road
On Christmas eve

So the only people to save me would be wasted Santa Clauses
It would be ok, I would tell them I’m not very good at grammar so you can go away
He would belch and puke and I would think this dying is harder than I thought
I would pass out in the snow, I would wake the next day with a cop in my face

He would ask what I’m doing
I would tell him this is where I live
All my elves are out doing their jobs
Forgive my appearance I haven’t been inside
Would you like to come in and have some coffee

The police officer looked behind me and there was only snow
He was about to write a ticket, looked at me again and let me go

I would have to work on this dying stuff a little harder.
It was now Christmas, I didn’t care about Jesus or my family

Finally, I saw on the street that had that look in his eye like yup, I can get you high. I approached him and I asked if he had any drugs?
He did, so I smartly went along with him hoping to be stabbed to death or nearly beaten to death and left in the zero degrees temperature to become like all those people you see in the movies with icicles hanging from their noises.

We turned the corner and walked into I guess you could call a flat and he had laid the drugs out for like a buffet. I knew what they all were and the combination and the problems with having an easy death. I knew that I needed to not overdose by taking too many of one pill because that will just leave me sick and puking. I needed to take a few downers of different families. I needed drugs that would slow my central nervous system and I would fall asleep. I paid for what I needed asked if I could lay there until I got high and he said yes. I felt the drugs kicking, I said good bye and went to the place last night.

There were still Santa Clauses running around drunk on whiskey and taking turns laughing between pukes. I was getting very tired and I liked that.

The next thing I remember is showing up to a funeral, there were so many people there. It was me, I walked to the casket and said to myself, “GOD YOU LOOK DEAD!”

I spied on everyone, saw who was there. I was satisfied you were there and the smallest tear was enough, even if it was with your douchey new boyfriend.

So satisfied I jolted up in my coffin and played the keyboard as hard as I could. I leaped and screamed out I LOVE EMBALMING FLUID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
————————————–

This man has never been heard from again. This is where being an investigatory journalist has it’s pros and cons. Pros, finding a cool story. Cons- not really caring today.

I made one phone call that was to Stone And Family Funeral Chapel. I asked if they remembered anyone jumping out of their coffin and playing a keyboard super hard.

They said yes they did.

Could I have his name and the number to his parents’ house?

They kindly obliged.

I made another call. Hello, Mrs. Lampost, some how I found a story in my office of his amazing story. Do you know where he is?

Yes, I do. He is the CEO of Stain Remove LLC.

So, did he ever explain to you why he did this and how he managed to live through all of that. I never did get quite to the point of that with him. Maybe you want to call over there and ask him yourself.

Thank you very much for your time.

I called and asked for Mr. Lampost.

She said, “Who is this and what does this concern?”

-I’m Coyote Rush, put me through

– OH, OK SORRY

-Don’t you worry your pretty little head.

(Sometimes I like to pretend on I’m a western movie.)

– Hello?

– Hello Mr. Lampost!
– Who is this, well it’s Coyote Rush from the Shockuation Room.
– Ah, yes, I should have known you would call at some point.
– So could you tell me a little more about the odd suicide note and the odd experience of waking up in coffin only to rock the keyboard and scream I love embalming fluid only to have half the crowd shocked into paralysis and the other half running for the nearest exit I heard that someone ran right through a pane glass window.

-The keyboard thing is something I’ve always wanted to do. The botched suicide was just that, my body just go tired and didn’t die. Then the embalming fluid made me feel more alive than I had been.

– I see, what about that letter.

– Like you probably noticed I wanted it to be a poem all rhymey and cutesy, but then I could do it. And after the first few lines in which I did get to see her and she told me to fuck off and die, I decided that’s the best thing I could do, I have nothing going for me. I have neighbors that have rebel flags hanging outside their windows. It was around that point I made up my mind and there was no turning back.

– Are you glad to be around?

– Yeah, I made $150,000 a year now.

– Lucky for you! We obviously have enough to make a few phone calls! YES SIR! Goodbye, Mr. Lampost

I’m not the only one to hear this in their life. I know it for a fact. I’ve been the person.

There are many ways you can get suckered in. It’s always sooooo innocent.
So, innocent.

You get a call or text, “What are you doing?”

“Not much thinking of going wherever to do whatever?”

“Really!! I was just thinking of going there, do you think I could ride with you man?”

Now this is where many thoughts come into you hard.

Ugh, do I really want to make fake conversation for like an hour?

The dude gets into your car already smoking a cigarette, takes two hits, “Oh, is it cool if I smoke in your car”

Umm,I guess.

There is a cd that is in your car that you want to listen to, his phone rings, plugging his ears, you’re like, well I guess, I will just turn off my radio. Then he gets off the phone he just starts talking to you about nothing. This mean I have to listen to this and there is no chance I can’t do this without being extremely rude, so you forget and start nodding and wondering what this mean. And then start going “really? oh? “that’s weird, that’s cool dude.”

You get to where you are going and then he starts asking you if you can take him to a billion places then you just go “oh I’ve go to go make beans”

Your brain will if you brain will goo.

IT may

-James Dust

I talked to a man by the name of Liam Frank. He lives in Buffalo NY. He is 35 years old and has had enough ex-gfs that I will not and do not suggest you question what he says about what exes are really good at, well, female exes.

It’s really only a list… But, it’s worth reading it.

1. They are really good at breaking up with you in the most confusing manner.

2. They are really good at hanging around just after breaking up. Confused at if they should break up with you or if they should choose the bf in the wings. After they mess with your head and heart for a while they go for the boy in the wings because it’s NOT FAIR for him. Because it’s totally fair for you. Moving on.

3. Reminding you that they are alive. Just as you are putting them out of your head because you’ve been in a state of depression, blaming yourself for what went wrong or whatever the hell happened. Trying to figure out the smallest most mundane detail or maybe you don’t actually care, which is a possibility: THEY JUST POP UP. In some way or another. HEY LIAM!

4. They are SO GOOD at not talking to you in any possible way. And they’re used to be a lot less ways of talking to each other. Calling someone with a phone card, letting it go to voicemail because you are like what the hell number is this?! And then they call.

“Hey, I was just calling to talk for a bit, you’re probably busy, but I am calling to say I really miss us and I love you, I really do.”

So let’s use a little example: Your brain is walking down the street to class and all of a sudden it trips and spills all of the books out of the bag. No one tries to help you they just step over you laughing: “What an idiot, stop paying attention to your phone!”

Here is what is funny. People now can actually be blamed for that. The time Liam is relaying to me is a time I was in, when the coolest damn thing you could on your phone was play SNAKE!

So you call back that phone card number… it’s like “WHOA WTF do you think you’reeeeeeeeee doing this is a calling card.” So, you go on thinking about this and talking to your friends about it who at this point are so feed up with your non-stop blabbering over this girl, by which you are destroying opportunities to meet new girls because all you are talking about is your ex-gf. Oh and don’t worry, these girls are actually into you until you bring up the NAME of your ex!

5. Calling you for advice on their current boyfriend. Yes, I know… REALLY?! But, it happens.

6. Keeping tags on you without you having a clue. It turns into 1984, BIG BROTHER. And if you’re a girl and don’t know what 1984 is and don’t play tennis, than the author of this article doesn’t probably want to date you.

7. If you doooooo decide you want to try to contact them on your own… GOOD LUCK! They won’t respond to texts, they won’t respond to calls, they won’t respond to Facebook messages and if you’re lucky enough to get the latter, a return Facebook message, they will leave out any question you REALLY wanted to know.

I have a feeling this conversation could go on and on.

However, Liam and I are going to go sit and be wallflowers where hot chicks hang out and no one will approach us.

– James Dust

Anywhere-

A cute girl and a reasonably amazingly good looking guy start talking. They enjoy talking. They decide to hang out. Then do things as in: going out to eat, going to the movies, taking walks together, and stay up lateS.

They soon made it Facebook official, which everyone in the world means that it’s like chiseling it into a rock, somewhat like the Flintstones. Yeah, it’s that official.

Far be it for the guy to know that the girl had been texting her head off with a random dude. She was strangely waiting for the relationship to fall apart.

His name was Normal Richards and her name was Julia Martinez.

They were relatively close in age. They liked some of the same things, but both were very stubborn, which made it difficult and made it seem when Normal tried to get Julia to watch something he liked or listened to some music he like that she had already made up her mind that this isn’t for her.

Normal put up with constant hours of country music. And for Normal this was unNormal.

Listen:

After a bit things got weird. Normal started to notice Julia drifting away. Her getting mad at bizarre things. Her ignoring compliments bestowed upon her by Normal. Her all around treating Normal like a very dirty diaper that smelled full of Indian food mixed with poop and topped of with that horrific smell of whatever your upstairs neighbors just made for dinner.

Normal realized this. It had happened before. Pulling away and such, he let it happen. It didn’t work out, he tried other things, like buying her mood rings. He bought her a cow so she didn’t have to buy milk. He thought it was a good idea. She didn’t think so. He would hug her, she would think it was weird.

So, he backed off completely. He resigned to his resign chair and played the Carpenters, “best of” no less.

Yeah, they broke up. Within 48 hours she had a new boyfriend, Normal was shocked. Julia was pumped. STRAIGHT TO FACEBOOK OFFICIAL STATUS!

Normal had a trick up his sleeve as Julia had a guy waiting in he wings for the break up, Normal had a robot. It was a sweet robot. It talked in a robot voice.

He constantly told it to call Julia and tell her to fuck off and he would in a very robotic way. Normal LOVED IT!

And that’s why when you start a relationship and you’re a dude, have to have a robot back up.

And we all know girls have guys waiting in the wings for as soon as they break up they have a rebound…”THAT THEY LOVE EVEN MORE, HE’S JUST SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUN.”

Not as much fun as Normal’s robot! I trust normal on that one! “BAM” was the last thing Normal said to me. The robot repeated… “BAM, exclamation point.”

JAMES DUST

First off… Charlize Theron is one of the most beautiful people in the whole wide world.

Now… Let’s get down to business.

This movie is like if you took Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs, threw that away, added Lord of The Rings, Narnia, Return To Oz and Twilight together. I’ve never seen Twilight, but she looks the exact same and why would that cast her as snow white? I mean yeah, she was with some vampires for a while, but come on. She is sort of terrible.

Anyway, it’s entertaining if you are ready to experience what I explained above. However, if you are trying to watch this movie without waking someone up, good luck, as the sound goes from near mute to atomic bomb decibel.

Go quickly into the night.

In an apparent demonstration of “everything bad that can happen, will happen,” the universe has placed a needy, self-involved neighbor right across the hall from recently single woman, Holly Swiss.

“This always happens to me. I break up with someone, I move, I want to get my shit together, and I end up right next to an incessantly talking woman who never wears a bra and has like 30 small animals in her apartment. And they ALWAYS want to hang out with me nonstop,” said Swiss.

Swiss’ new neighbor goes by the name Snooze and has knocked on Swiss’ door to hang out approximately 24 times in the four weeks that she has lived at her new residence. “I feel bad because I think she’s lonely, but for the love of god. The other day she texted me to hang out and when I said no, she just called me up instead and started talking about all these people I’ve never met.”

Swiss stated that another time when she ran into her neighbor in the hallway, Snooze stated that if the building is ever burning down that Swiss should bring a sports bra with her when she’s fleeing the building for Snooze to wear. “I don’t wanna be one of them crazy, braless people you see on the news! LOL!”

“I mean, she actually said ‘LOL’ in real conversation,” said Swiss. “I can’t live like this. Last night she asked if I wanted to come over and eat chicken wings with her and when I said no, she actually got mad at me.”

(This is a continuation of Taffy Hawkley’s series on Port Authority)
PITTSBURGH, PA – In a further attempt to get people to just stop riding the bus, Port Authority is hiring people to poop on buses to maximize discomfort.

“On my way up to the front of the bus to tell the bus driver that I was going to pass out from a strange smell, I saw a woman wiping her butt with a coupon booklet,” said Tina Delfunkis.

Delfunkis stated that bus driver, Al Kowzintski, pulled the bus over and opened the doors, threatening to go no further unless the offending passenger exited the bus.

“When he opened the doors, I just got out and started
walking,” said Delfunkis. “I had my Roethlisberger jersey on and I didn’t want it getting all stinky.”

The woman who pooped, who wishes only to be revealed as Delores, said that Delfunkis’s response is exactly what they were trying to accomplish. “I was out one day on the bus wearing sweatpants and rollers in my hair and I was on the phone cussing out my cousin for being a dumbass when I was approached by some bus officials. They said I looked like the type of person that would shit my pants for money, and I told them they came to the right person!”

Delores further stated that if enough buses were shit on, ridership would decline and the impending bus cuts would effect fewer people.

Director of Strategic Implementation, Ricky Dickerson, stated that their plan has been a success. “So far, 23 buses have been shit on, and ridership is down 18 percent. This way when we completely cut all the buses later this year, it won’t even be that big of a deal!”

Somewhere, Florida-

NEWS! I KNOW IT! SOMEWHERE!

As always there was a smell in the air. A wind of change, a singular cloud that floated effortlessly through the sky, if you looked closely, it screamed, “News.” To the untrained eyes, it was nothing, just a sky floating over the Earth that had too many life-less, brain-less idiots thinking of only themselves, it didn’t matter, nothing did. Not to them.

A couple of weeks ago, I had shaved my beard clean off. I thought of shaving it off and leaving a mustachio in honor of our silenced Oliver Pepper. We had no idea what was going on with him. He hadn’t used his credit cards in days, but he was with a strong and large Ethiopian troop of hard gazing, massively armed, cocaine snorting mo fos.

Anyway, wow. I can get off track.

Listen:
There is a planet known as Ramfranuunkel. Things there taste like a garden, what garden? Shhhh.

Deep Breath.

Down here:

Little poke… just a tiny bit of pressure, I know, it’s ok… You can’t get away, once you get the look, you’re already hooked.

Next time, please ask for the girl walking down the hall. Please ask for her, please ask for her.

The planet Ramfranuunkel is located in Strato-3 in the Galactic globe of universe four. Ramfranuukel is a tiny planet that sustains and supports life easily. Creatures don’t die here, they decide when they want the big sleep and here you can wake up from the big sleep.

Then that part becomes the big dream.

During the big dream you start to know new friends. They don’t have to exist, nothing has to exist if you believe hard enough. I am slightly tired right now so I have shut my right eye and I am succeeding in feeling that my right side of my head is plain gone. Now it’s open. I have a whole blurry head.

Anyway on Ramfranuukel there is a hidden secret, all creatures envy it, and it’s you. You are the best kept secret on the entire planet. Envied and spied on with wicked, wanting eyes. Nearly everyone has gotten used to it, besides, Glanz: residing there also demanding to be in a garden, fed grapes and bananas while semi-tanned, semi-pieced of clothes girls, with Martian eyes wandered and served.

(Let me let you into a little secret)

They have the best damn garden hoses I know, they water plants, small kids drench themselves until semi-clothed girls begin wandering near the children. That’s the only draw back, all the women wander, ready to give grapes or pack lunches. Mom’s do this too, but they must be labeled as moms by the eye that holds the secret hammer head creature who summons small stars into or near its atmosphere. By stars I mean 1940’s 1950’s or 60’s Bombshells like LAUREN BACALL AND Sophia Loren. Others include the sun, it got warm there during the period they call fake global cooling. K. West made a motion picture about the ill effects about being so ill.

Whatcha sayyyy mmmmm watcha sa eeee

Now: Let’s get serious. And physical.

Mostly serious, mostly.

K…………

Whatever, back to Florida.

There was a dude, there still is a dude, his name was Eric Hipungel.
He is 31 years of age. On Earth and on Ramfranuukel he would be the same age.

The satellite of news moved the Shockuation’s Antenna and that’s why I was here. Of course I had to explain my reasoning of showing up at homes to tell people, “I totally know what you’re thinking of doing, let’s talk about it.”

That takes a moment for the obviously shocked person I’ve shown up at their dilapidated or beautiful home.

I ran by how he had became so lonely and striking out in the means of girl: just so pathetic with meeting them, ANYWHERE, at the bar or church, or walking down the street, sitting on a park bench reading Vonnegut. Going to the zoo, sitting by himself at cider mills and pumpkin patches, he would see girls, he would talk to them: get their numbers, text them, send messages on facebook and when the time came to actually hang out: HONEST TO GOD THE GIRL DROPPED OFF THE PLANET OR PAID PEOPLE TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN. Make her just disappear, cut contacts, done.

Men can’t do that, well, at least Eric couldn’t.

I had been in Florida for a few days now getting to know Eric and realizing that it really was bad luck instead of method. Eric was starting to give up and only talking to his cat. I tried encouraging him and one night it worked!

It was a Friday:

It was this Friday night that he flirted harder than he had ever would in his whole life and surprisingly he would ask a lady if she would mind spending an evening at his home. She said yes, he had planned ahead, even more surprisingly, he had rented a chick flick and was being rather comforting to this lady, this lady’s name was (who was worth this much work) Kelli Star. She was long, lean, athletic, had brownish, blondish hair that flowed just like all the movies made the girls hairs’ look. However, she did it herself. She was not all about herself and that is why she said yes to Eric. The topping on the cake for Eric, she was about three inches shorter than Eric, perfection. Perfection. That’s all he could think about. Perfection, no mistakes, perfection was the only thing he had built this into. He couldn’t see anything going wrong with this date.

We will read on won’t we?

The date was on the verge of floundering quickly. His food was immaculate. Gordon Ramsay would have thrown wild compliments at him. So, that was not that problem. However, the dialog, if you were to call it, that was dicey and I’m being polite. Eric had prepared the food and atmosphere, but had not prepped himself for the conversation part of the date. He had been talking to himself so much lately that he didn’t know how to communicate with other people besides: hello, good bye, thank you, sorry, you’re welcome, excuse me, how are you, I’m ok. And so on.

So, dinner went like this.

Kelli loved the food. Couldn’t believe that he actually had made this. She expressed this with words that floated freely flowering into the bright light of Eric’s formation.

Eric said, “Oh, you’re welcome. Thank you. How’s it going? I’ll be right back,” as he grabbed the dirty dishes and hustled with his head down into the kitchen.

Kelli, so confused by the rapid succession of phrases, couldn’t decide if she should follow him into the kitchen or wait at the table. Kelli sat there with perfect posture that she learned at a proper dinner etiquette course her mother had forced her to do when she was eight years old, she hadn’t forgotten any of the errors that would cause her to be smacked across the hands. After about three minutes she pushed her chair away from the table quietly and tip-toed into the kitchen.

There she saw Eric, ablaze, on fire, frenzied with rinsing dishes, singing softly, slowly, the lyrics to Rainy Days and Mondays by The Carpenters.

That was an odd combination Kelli thought. She said apprehensively, “Need any help, Eric?”

Eric jumped two and a half feet into the air. Eric loved basketball, thought I would mention that. “Oh, hi, how’s it going, I guess if you want to put the dishes into the dish washer after I rinse that would be great, but I don’t like to have a woman work in the kitchen on the first date.”

This was the first humorous thing that Eric had said all night! Kelli let out the cutest, sweetest laugh Eric had ever heard.

This disarmed both of them.

Eric nearly melted into the sink from the laugh.

Kelli rolled up her sleeves and joined Eric, putting the dishes into the dishwasher.

Eric was starting to regain some of his vocabulary, but obvious slips that showed his lack of speaking to real human beings were evident.

Kelli asked Eric, “how long have you been living here?”

Eric replied nearly trembling from the difficulty of putting together a sentence to an actual living creature besides a cat or for that matter me, who made it very easy on him. “Oh, about six months or so, how’s it going, how close do you live from here, hi!”

Again, Kelli, not sure if she was drunk or just hearing Eric sputter greetings mid-sentence, gathered herself for a response, for whatever reason she saw something in Eric, I couldn’t tell you what. He wasn’t good looking, however he wasn’t the elephant man.

Like I said, Kelli gathered herself, took a deep breath and began, “I don’t live far from you at all. I really like your apartment, maybe I can show you mine sometime, I think I would have to order something in because I couldn’t compare to your cooking abilities.”

Eric blushed as bright as Rudolph’s nose or Santa’s rosy cheeks.

Kelli noticed this, she thought it was cute. Thankfully she didn’t mention this to Eric or he would have been slightly crushed.

Let me in on what LITTLE I know about girls, “cute” is not a good thing. It’s typically one step above what girl talks about small things, like flowers or babies or when a boy is dressed up bringing up flowers during the wedding and is half stumbling, but doing it with all his might. He decided that discretion was the better part of valor and hugged her and gave her a tiny kiss on the check.

She said please call me in a couple days I would like to hear from you and get together.

Eric was pumped.

Eric called in a couple days as asked by Kelli, Kelli answered the phone dejectedly. “Hi Eric, I am sorry, but I am seeing my ex-boyfriend, he has promised things would be different and I really have to give him a chance. I’m sorry.”

Eric tried to keep his despair under control. He said “I understand, good luck.”

Eric cried. I called him immediately.

How are you doing?

Not well.

I had that feeling. Do you want me to come over and talk to you.

“No, sorry, how’s it going, sorry, be right back, how’s it going, I gotta go.”

Ok. See ya.

Eric went to the store. He bought a two liter of Pepsi and a liter of vodka. I knew all of this.

He started making very strong drinks. He looked toward his tv. He sat down. He then stared at his drink. He drank it down. He then stared at his cell phone. Things were going to get bad.

He picked it up. He began the drunk texts.

Hey Jess, you up? How’s it going?
(No response)

Hey Ann, how’s it going?
(No response)

Hey Ashley, what are you up too?

Eric, I have three kids.

“Oh yeah, sorry, how’s it going, k bye.”

Hey Jennifer how’s going?

I am married and live in Arizona.

He called three or four more.

He gave up three his phone again a couch, turned on the tv, and drank the rest of the vodka.

I didn’t get to talk to him, but it was all recorded on the Shockuation room’s satellite and antenna.

I felt his pain.

Poor Eric… Poor Men in general.

James Dust