Do you see that woman?
BASE SLUT WITH A LARGE HAT: Would you like some help, sir?
BLACK HOCKEY JESUS: Ah! A Good Samaritan [*blasted Christian tones!*] in this decadent age of alienated selfishness. If you could but apply some sunscreen to this impossible spot on my back, I would be confidently protected from the specter of skin cancer.
BSWALH (getting hot): My, you use big words.
BHJ: Well I read big books, young lady. Now get about your task. It’s not proper for a married man to carry on with such a barely clad woman.
BSWALH: I read books too. How would you like to rub some sunscreen on these monumental orbs?
BHJ: For the love of God!
In nearly every context, it’s improper to strike a woman, but this slut’s indecency elicited an instinctual reaction that resulted in a sweeping backhand across her jaw. It occurred so quickly and with such force that the SMACK! rang out with its sickening violence a full half second after the blow was delivered.
And o my God you don't believe me. At what point did you stop believing me, cautious reader? Well, far be it from me to demand your faith. To ask that you have faith in absurdities would be a bit of a stretch, no?
I am not so much interested in what is true and what is not and what you believe and what you don’t. What really interests me is that thin line (the point) between what is fact and what is fiction. And my interest doesn’t reside in clarifying that thin line between the 2, of stating exactly what is fact and what is fiction, but rather my interest resides in blurring that line, moving it around, playing with it—indeed asking whether or not the thin line itself is fact or fiction.
The last 125 years of philosophy have revealed that Truth herself is a whore that really never puts out. What a waste of money. This startling revelation divides us into 2 kinds of people: those it horrifies and those who revel in it. It should be obvious by now where I stake my claim. The untruthing of Truth. Somebody’s gotta do it. Why not do it with a base slut who wears a big hat?
JACKSON: Dad. Your Daddy Blog is sorely lacking for kids.