Samsung And Da-Liar, conclusion..(best read while mind is alrerady dirty)

angry sam

A Pillar Of The Community?
Da-Liar was not proud of what she had done. Well, not proud of betraying Samsung, but she wished the camera phone had been invented because she thought his hair looked fab. A mullet for the ages, Spinal Tap meets Dog The bounty hunter. Samsung however did not share her admiration for the new doo. So unhappy with his mangy mallet that he removed every follicle on his head. Samsung had chosen to go all skin, his head shining like a giant…..well actually with his big oblong head shaved clean he kinda looked like a walking penis, but one proud motherhumping shit strutting walking penis with huge bulging and somewhat pissed muscles ready to engage in revenge. First he would kill the filthy bacon eating Philly-Steens then go back and take care of Da-Liar. He made his first strategic decision and turned himself in to King Davy who was overjoyed to have the bald headed joke back in chains and arranged for a party for all to see his conquest.
Posters all over town inviting Philly-Steens to a pagan revival and sacrificial extravaganza this Saturday. Come to the Behemoth Beheading Gala at the Gaza, Saturday evening at the Temple. Featured will be the disembowelment of Israelite slaves and the castration and sacrificial beheading of Samsung. The mighty Hebrew Hope becomes the Hebrew joke as he loses both his heads. Fun and game for all, bring the whole family. I tell ya, these Philly-Steens sure loved their huge ornate celebrations and this promised to be the smash of the century.
Samsung sat in his prison and planned out his moves. Even the other slaves were calling him names now, feeling as though he had severely disappointed them. Samsung had become the laughing stock of the entire Fertile Crescent. But you can’t keep a good man down and Samsung was up. Up for over six hours which is the magic amount of hard time before calling a doctor which he did.
The doctor arrived at his cell, keeping slaves healthy before killing them was one of their main obligations. “What is the problem here slave?” Samsung lifted his loincloth revealing an almost inhumanly large stiff erection and pointed to it, “It’s been like this for over six hours and it won’t go down. I can’t fight like this. Can you release the pressure doc?” Of course the doctor didn’t want to touch that so he ordered the guard to have Samsung brought to his office where he could have his nurse do the deed.
Samsung made no effort to conceal his towering totem and the very second the nurse saw it she sized up the situation in her head and smiled. “Put him in there” as she pointed to the exam room. The nurse informed the doctor she knew just what to o to release the pressure but she needs be alone with him. The doctor ha no objection, if word got out that he had anything to do with releasing the fluid of a raging hard on it would ruin his career. And then it would destroy his family practice once it was discovered it was an Israelites salami he emptied of its contents. So off into the exam room walked Samsung, followed by the nurse with a smile as big as the joystick she was anticipating. She spared no time and placed her hand on his pulsing penis, “Anyone who says size doesn’t matter never held this marvel in her hands.” She began to stimulate the bulging log but Samsung had other idea’s. “It works much better if you’ll let me do some exploring” as he unbuttoned her gown she slipped out effortlessly and instantly allowed him to take the lead.
The two lovers went at it over and over. Over the exam table, over the waiting chair, over the cabinets, over just about everything they could find in the room. Samsungs talents brought the dazed nurse to four, count them, four incredible orgasms until he finally allowed himself to explode 2 quarts of pent up love juice between her thighs. During the explosive love making session Samsung, having learned from Sa-Liar, convinced the nurse to slip him a key to unlock his chains which he stored up his…..well you know where he hid it. He promised her he was going to use it to escape and come back for another pressure relieving episode.
With his ego inflated and his erection deflated he was returned to his cell where he would wait until Saturday when his big moment would arrive. He was fed well and tended to like the fattened calf preparing for a Pagan sacrifice. The town was abuzz in anticipation of a bloody and brutal family night out. Everyone was looking forward to the fiesta except for Da-Liar. Ashamed and heartbroken at betraying her lover Da-Liar wished none of this shit had happened. She sat in her room and sulked and sobbed angry at herself for losing Samsung. The only time she smiled was when she thought back to their love sessions the time she called him “My Sam Schlang” and they would both chuckle before making love again. She would no longer feel him swelling inside her, no more tender touches on her flesh, no more tongue bathing her from toe to head. Da-Liar could take it no longer. All the money and presents and material things no longer meant anything to her. No more thrill from her Ferrari chariot, the Veuve Clicoquot was a no, going to the boutique was weak, the feeling from Louis Vuitton….gone, and from her Prada, nada! Da-Liar couldn’t take the pain anymore, so she drank a bottle of champagne, and went into the bathroom to get some sleeping pills so she could rest. “Hmmm. Maybe I better take 2 or 3 tonight?” After struggling with it she opted to take 5, a very high dose but not one she hadn’t taken before. But when Da-Liar went to sleep, she would not ever wake up again. For some reason, perhaps it was a combination of not eating,drinking the champagne and the pills, or perhaps the pills were stronger than usual, or maybe she took more than he thought. No matter, she’s dead now and will never be able to answer those questions.
If Samsung had known that Da-Liar was gone he may have been sad, or he may have felt vindicated we’ll never know. What we can be sure of however is that on Saturday he was full of determination. He removed the hidden key and cleaned it off thoroughly before unlocking the chains. The prison guards rounded up the evenings sacrificial slaves and paraded them around the Temple as the Philly-Steens jeered and called them names. “Die you worthless penny miser” or “Eat shit and live for a little while”, and “It’s just a party, nothing to lose your head over.” The crowd had a special place in their hateful hearts for when Samsung was walked by. “yo dickhead, I got ya ham sandwich right here”, or “Hey ya bald pecker-head, lose ya Bah Mitzvah?” and “Bring that monster schlong over hear and do me one more time’ (The Nurse). But all of it just bounced of Samsung, he knew that in a short time all the revelers would be crushed by the stones of the temple they worshipped. When they walked him past the pillars that held together the place of Philly-Steen worship Samsung threw off his chains, ran up to the pillars wrapped the unlocked chains around them and pulled them down in a feat of strength even Hercules couldn’t pull off.. The Temple collapsed killing all the Philly-Steens and crushed the entire city of Gaza. Samsung was now the hero of the Israelites who were free now and he was able to put them on the family plan with a new invention he had dreamed up in prison using two cups and a string. All that was left now was taking out his vengeance on Da-Liar.
The second Samsung learned that Da-Liar was dead the anger exited his heart. He couldn’t stay mad at his lover and even began to miss her. He paced through her bedroom remembering their intense love making nights and began to feel sad. He opened a bottle of bubbly and began talking to himself out loud. “Oh man, why did it have to be like this? Only two women I have ever loved and who could satisfy me and both gone. Da-Liar dead and God only knows where Semedar is.” Samsung thought he felt someone in the room when a familiar voice answered him. “I’m here Samsung. After you destroyed the Philly-Steens I was no longer banished an I’m back. Maybe we could start over where…….Wait! What the fuck did you do to your head Samsung?” Semedar walked over to the stunned Samsung and gently put her arms around him. He looked at Semedar and was very angry at first, when suddenly she slowly gyrated her hips into his and that six hour menace threatened to return. Like most men when teased in the right spot Samsung relented and began grinding back. “It’s a long story Semedar, it’ll grow back. Everything grows back.” Words were replaced with moans and groans and the two once again found comfort in each others arms. And legs. And mouths. And….use your imagination.
So things were back to abnormal, the Israelites were free, the promised land was given back (sort of), and Samsung and Semedar lived in coital bliss for the rest of their days. Promising to be honest and to never betray him again, Semedar changed her ways. Burt before making the promise she had one last deceptive gesture she had to attend, so she poured the bottle of opium pills she had replaced with Da-Liars sleeping pills down the toilet. No one would ever know. No one that is except her little sister, Cleopatra.

Prisoner Of Love

During the insidious adventures of JT he learns some hard truths about himself

Prisoner Of Love

That inevitable moment arrived, and we both knew it was coming. Time for JT to leave and move on to the next adventure. This time I wasn’t really sure if I wanted new a new adventure. More unsettling was I wasn’t sure how I felt about Jo. Could it be love? Maybe. Not the traditional type of love but a strange and alluring love that grabs hold while your not paying attention. A love who‘s destiny it was to fail. One that started as a time bomb of sexual tensions that made good on its promise to fulfill both our intense needs and then must fizzle out. That was all it was supposed to be, two lovers sharing the comfort of each other for just a short time. But the sexual volcano erupted and the lava it released was strong and unfamiliar. Is it emotional feelings? Not good! Not good at all!
We agreed from the start that before her boyfriend got back home we would go our separate ways and we were okay with that. No attachments, no bullshit, not strings. At the time it seemed like a good idea but I never considered that emotions might figure into the equation. I mean sex without commitment should be a young mans dream. And the sex was good, god damn was it good. Reckless abandon. She put the music on real loud to drown out our very loud sexually motivated squeals and promises . I can’t even remember half the shit I said but the half I do remember all involved me pleading gods name louder than I ever did before. So often and so loud you woulda thought I was a devout follower.
The fact that no strings were attached was what made it so intriguing. It wasn’t supposed to happen but I was pretty sure I did love Jo. I reasoned I was just not in love with her. At least I didn’t think I was. She understood me the way Tina had, we intertwined emotionally the way Carrie and I had, yet I knew from the start she was unattainable. Maybe that was it, maybe just wanting something I know I can’t have is whats driving these feelings?! One thing I was certain of is Josie and I were really good together, even our conversations were deep. But it was time to discard the emotions and say good by. Who knew it would be so difficult. We laid naked in bed in a satiated silence after what was presumably our final high energy fling. Anyway we went at it as if it were our last time either of us would ever make love again. So much determination and passion we were motionless for over an hour before she spoke.
“JT Sweetie, I sweer I ain’t never gonna firget you baby. But y’all know Jake is coming back tomorrah and you bess be long gone for then.” She placed her head on my chest using her soft curls as a pillow. She tenderly reached around my shoulder to lightly scratch the back of my neck. “Why does it have to end Jo? Why can’t you come up north with me?” She moved her hand to my lips, “Shush now Justin, y’all know that caint happen. Things is way differnt down here baby. Things is expected of a gurl down here. My Mama won’t never furgive me an my Papa, well Papa ain‘t one to anger up none.…Ya don’t wanna be puttin no bee in yer bonnet with Papa, Honey J. I juss caint do that, my future got be with Jake. Thats the way its spose to go. I got to think about the future.” I placed my arms around her and planted her head firmly between my neck and chin to caress her with my cheek. “It doesn’t have to go like that. You are in charge of your future. You make your choices. There ain’t no reason you can’t leave here. Hell baby child even if its not with me why get married to someone you don’t love? Trust me, that shit don’t end well at all, I been there and it sucks.” I could feel a tear on her cheek. She sat up, “JT, that’s not how life is here in Conway South Carolina. I gotta answer to Jesus. I know y’all don unerstand that but it means a lot here Baby Boy. A girls folks expeck her to marry the man they wants fur her to marry, have chillen and raise them to fear the lord. Womens don’t get to do no choosin’ round here. A girls past can foller her around an make her life horrible if ya goes against thangs. My past is determining my future, and my past is with Jake. So now my future got to be that way too, Sugarpie. Don’t matter none what I wants.” I looked at her incredulously. “That’s not true Jo it matters very much what you want. Its your life pretty girl. Your past only determines who you were. Its what lead you to your present but it sure ain‘t who you are now. You can’t live in the past Babydoll that’s over. Your past is gone, you own your future.” I gently kissed her on the temple. “Listen to your heart Jo, what’s your heart saying? The heart knows because the heart lives in the present and begs you for a future. A future that you want, not what god or Jesus or your mom and dad want, but what Josie wants! You’re not defined by your past and you can rewrite your future Sweet Thing. Listen to your heart. I think I hear it whispering my name.” She smiled a half smile that told a hundred stories. The story of the past two weeks, the story of a girl and a boy sharing the most perfect moment in time. It hinted at what could be while at the same time mercilessly reminded her of her fate. It told of deep stories of sadness and defeat, told by a lonely girl who believes she has no control over her own life. Stories of things gone by and things to come, but not the story of the now, the right here. No stories of a happy ever after with me or of endless possibilities. A smile that is fighting the sadness underneath, a profound smile with eyes that confirmed the feeling of hopelessness. “Weeze all defined by our pasts JT, ain’t none of us can rewrite the future no matter how much we want to. The heart only lives in the present because its afraid of breaking. Like mine is this here right this second. I dint never spect this to be so hard baby. I aint even sure how it happened, but we had us two weeks of bliss and I ain‘t sorry bout a second of it. But it got an endin sugar, I‘m sorry but as much as it hurts me this song is ending. Every song ends. I sure done wannit to stop neither but that’s my life honeypie. Things happen for a reason an we juss gotta figger out what the reason fur us was.”
We embraced deep in thought for a few minutes. This feeling was so foreign to me. Fuck man, am I starting to grow up? I’m not sure why but I still wasn’t ready to let this all just slip away, “Jo baby listen” I sat up and took her hands in mine. We stared into each others soul with piercing compassion. Our eyes embraced. “The past doesn’t matter Josie Rae. You done things in the past and I done things in the past but that’s history, not destiny. Maybe its our destiny to look beyond our pasts and think about a future. I never really thought that things happen for a reason, like fate or anything. I always believed everything was random and just happened. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe shits not just random. All the things that happened to me were so we could meet. That’s why I took a trip with people I knew I had no business being with. That’s why I got busted and stuck in jail. To meet you. I learned a lot about myself doing my time in prison. Maybe I was in prison to straighten my head and to get ready for you and me.” Now her smile was thoughtful, she was fully aware she was in complete control of everything. One of the things I love about her. (did I say love?) “Sweetie, you wasn’t in no prison. You was in jail Baby Boy. You spent time incarcerated in a southern jail, and maybe you sure enough did do some growin there, but it was just a jail, not a prison. People like you an me we carry our prisons on our backs. It sure nuff don’t seem right but thets how it is fur our kind. We dream but we ain’t never in control of our dreams, not really. Way I figger it weeze born wit the prison on our backs, you an me. We likely carry’em tar graves. And we been out of prison for four glorious week, maybe the best four weeks of my life. Leastwise the happiest. That’s what I got hon, an that’s gun be my most precious memory. I sure hope its yers too, cuz it shore was like heaven. For four weeks Justin you let me out of prison and I will always be thankful for that. But I got to take my prison back tomorrow, and I recon youse gonna fine yersff a prison you can live with too. Leastwise I recon you will. Lets juss firget all bout this now an just be happy with each other one last time. Lets make love once more afore you leave.”
I had no argument left, she was right. I did carry a prison on my back, I always had. Besides, over time she would get tired or bored of me, or worse, something bad would happen to her. No one stays with JT. Not for long anyway. That was my prison, a life that’s a plague of death and abandonment. Like I always seem to do I get hung up on the people that leave my life, Joe, James, Ken, Bill, June, an even my mom. I put them aside and thought about the past four weeks and I gave her the most passionate kiss I was capable of. Then we made love. We made love for over an hour, not with reckless abandon this time, but with calculated tenderness. When we finished we wrapped our arms around each other and never spoke another word. We both fell asleep and when I woke up it was six o’clock. I quietly got out of bed and kissed Josie Rae Sessions on the cheek and whispered, “I don’t care what you say pretty girl, I love you.” I could swear she smiled but whether he did or not, the only fair thing for me to do for her was to exit quietly. At that moment I knew I did in fact love her and that’s why I have to go. That’s how much a really love her, my staying would only hurt her. I let my heart break so she could go where she truly believed he belonged. It wasn’t right, it totally sucked but thats the kind of shit you do for real love. Sacrifice. Love comes with consequences and you gamble on some pain. I learned how much love really can hurt, how my love for one woman was so strong I broke my own heart to allow her to follow hers. Right or wrong, that wasn’t for me to choose. I had my life to focus on now. I washed up, got dressed and left. I left with exactly what I had arrived with four weeks ago. My wallet, my clothes, and the prison on my back.

Dead To Writes

Beginning With My End In Mind.

I’m writing a eulogy for someone. It’s a person I know inside out, that’s been there for me through thick and thin. Someone I’ve known my entire life. Me. After all, I was there when I traveled down that birth canal without a paddle, I was there when the doc smacked my ass, and I’ve been with me ever since. Obviously I’m not dead yet, but I’ve been to too many funerals and heard too many eulogies to know that without my assistance in memorializing me it would lack the humor, conviviality, and sarcasm my last formal spoken memory should encompass. I don’t want my wife or my kids to struggle over what I would want said so I’m taking out the guesswork.
When I say I’m writing it sounds like I recently started it but the truth is its been a project now for a few years. I keep putting it on the back burner and tell myself “No worries, you have plenty of time.” Hope I’m right because I love writing and I’m not ready to stop. I still have way to many things to say. Ergo I write. I’ve got tons of other projects in the works. I’ve done quite a lot of writing over the years. I wrote poems, most of which suck, a song or two, also sucky, as well as a number of short stories. I’d like to write a few more before my best used by date. I’ve been working on a novel on and off that so far has taken up more than three years of my life. But fuck it at least I’ve settled on the title. Of course nothing is certain except taxes and de…….Nevermind! It’s the third title actually but I really like this one. And as of now only two or five chapters have been re-writes and I am relatively certain of its direction.. So between being the foremost authority on me combined with my love of writing, it only makes sense that I should write my own eulogy. In fact, I highly recommend it everyone but get started soon because its not as easy as it seems.
The first problem a writer encounters during their own eulogy is that dreaded re-write. Nothing is ever perfect. First I just change a word, then I change a sentence, and before I know it I’ve said fuck it and erased the whole thing just to start over. I have my strong finish, and my cheery opening, and know most of what I want to include so I just need to settle on the finality. As I was writing it I struggled with what my format should be.
After a number of musings and a fair amount of wine I finally settled on a basic format. The first paragraph should be about what I don’t want. I don’t want anyone to mention god in any way shape or form. I respect others faiths but I’m the dead one here so I call no mentioning god. Check that, god can be mentioned if its like “Oh my fuckin god he was a pisser“, or “god damn he was funny” or “oh god don’t stop, oh god yes,yes,yes” anything along those lines is permissible. Maybe the last one should be in the privacy of your own whereever. Also I don’t want anyone to say to my family that I’m with god now. If I’m wrong about the whole heaven and hell thing I’ll be taking the elevator to the basement anyway. That doesn’t mean you should tell them “It’s okay, he’s with Lucifer now” either. And by all means stay away from the clichés. “I’m sorry for your loss” sounds like something Mr. and Mrs. Hallmark says to their grieving loved ones. Just share memories and remember the good times. I’m not really going anywhere I just made it to the next level.
Also, I don’t want anyone reciting religious scriptures or saying prayer over me, especially a stranger. You want to pray do that shit on your own in silence. And pray for yourself not for me, I don’t want any prayers. I’m an existentialist, we don’t pray we think. So meditate, its my funeral and I’ll have it the way I want. Seriously guys it’s the most important day of my death so cut me some slack. Here’s what I want everyone to do. Laugh, tell jokes and funny stories, get drunk, sneak out and smoke a joint, do whatever you need to do to make it fun. Thats what I want, a fun funeral like Chuckles the clown got. I want people to say “Damn I wish he was alive so he could die again. What a great time I had. This was the best funeral I’ve ever been to.” That shit would please me to no end. Maybe even make a dead man smile. And please don’t worry about making me blush I have no circulation.
The next stipulation was to honor me as my life was. I ask for a mug of beer. The good shit too, not that crap beer flavored water, but a good craft brew. It’s not like you need to buy it for me ever again. Next to that a shot of vodka, preferably Grey Goose. Leave them at a table as if I were sitting there and then have a party. My son will toast me adios ghost by downing the vodka at the end of the night. No sense in wasting good vodka!
The final stipulation was choosing a good play list. I may be dead but that’s no reason I should be subjected to crap music. No disco, no opera, no hymns. Good music, party music, maybe a tribute to the different decades. Ones with a good beat that you can dance to. I made a list of all my favorite tunes and even chose a few lines of lyrics to highlight that meant something to me. I don’t want my dead spirit to rest in peace I want it to Rock In Peace!
As far as what’s done to my remains, here’s where it gets a bit dodgy. Realistically whoever gets left behind should choose what to do with the physical remains cuz they’ll be dealing with them, I’m moving on sans remains. If it were up to me I actually have two choices. One to be put into a compost somewhere so I can continue to enrich the earth. A sort of true eternity, always contributing life back somewhere. But as I understand it that’s complicated. The second wish is that whatever is left, be it bone or ash, be buried under a dance floor at a popular club. How cool would it be to have thousands of people dancing on my grave?
By far the writing of the eulogy is what was the most difficult. I had to write it with humor, candor, and a degree of sensitivity. As much as I’m writing it for myself, my family will hear it as well so its probably not the best time to let out any secrets. But it will give me an opportunity to let everyone know I don’t regret dying, I had a wonderful life. Hard as it may be I’d prefer people be happy for me. It’s the loved ones left back on earth that need consoling, not me. I’m the lucky one, I’ve gone to those proverbial greener pastures.
I believe I am about three quarters done with it but as some of you may know once I get started I sometimes become long winded. Sometimes I just go on an on and on about this and that until….never mind. I’ll just say its close to being done. I’m trying to so as much of the event planning as possible. I‘m a really good cook and I wish I could do the cooking but that would be way too creepy. The party is almost there. I’ll tell you one thing having almost completed the written segment of my passing has been quite liberating. I feel like once I finish this eulogy I’ll be ready to move on, to go wherever it is I go, to say good by sweet world. In fact I know I’ll be ready to take the next step. Bring on the closure! ………..Then again, maybe I’ll put it on the back burner just a little longer………….PEACE