Pottery Class Gone Wrong

We got kicked out of pottery class last week, which in retrospect, I guess I understand. We weren’t as interested in the pottery class per say as we were in recreating that sexy clay scene from Ghost. We even had Unchained Melody queued up on hubby’s iPhone set to play at precisely the right moment, which was right after he removed his shirt and sat behind me. The teacher was horrified and disturbed by this, and asked us to leave immediately and never come back. We didn’t really understand where she was coming from though because we were actually making a really nice piece of pottery. I guess recapturing a memorable scene from one of the most romantic love scenes ever is a no-no when you are taking pottery. Or perhaps we should have recreated a scene where the focus was more on the pottery itself, and less on the love… Maybe then she would have been happy. We aren’t sure. But what we are sure of is that we are out $125 bucks each.

Whatever. I will stick to buying unique kitschy pottery on Etsy rather than attempting to make it myself. Fuck you pottery class. Fuck you!

Blackout

I sat in my dimly lit eight hundred dollar a month apartment trying to put myself back together. The flashing Red light from my phone indicated that I had messages.

My face felt like somebody punched me hard and my body felt abused. The thoughts from the night prior were spotty at best. I remembered his face. It was gentle, his eyes bright, and his smile, warm and inviting.

Who was he? Where was he? How did I get home?

I listened to my messages in search of a clue, but turned up empty.

My brows furrowed as my brain worked like the little engine that could. My memory was failing me miserably. How depressing.

I headed to the kitchen to pour myself a drink.

Jack Daniels straight up, no ice.

I shot it back and felt the soothing burn in the back of my throat as I slumped down on my kitchen floor with the bottle thinking “shit, I really need to quit drinking.”

The Lost Years

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Mom used to always tell me that husbands lasted about as long as a roll of toilet paper. She sort of robbed me of any romanticized view of marriage I might have had. Now on husband number five (Jack) she had successfully transformed herself from a loving, nurturing mom to a cold-hearted money-grubbing bitch.

It was cool in high school being dropped off in a Rolls Royce or limo once in while. But it quickly became old; as did the increase in age of the men she wed.

I still remember the way she used to look at dad. We might not have had much, but we were happy. They were in love, and we made due with what we had. When he cheated on her, everything changed. He took away our happy normal life and I became the bastard child of a gold digging bitter alcoholic. He used to send letters but stopped when mom married husband number two.

We lived in a huge estate home in Fern Hill, but our house was cold. We had a kitchen the size of some people’s apartments, but it never smelled like home cooking.  Mom didn’t like me calling her mom anymore either, she said I was too old to call her mom and that I should instead call her Louise.  So here I was in this giant estate home with an absent mom, no father, grieving my former life. A life in which some would say I had nothing. But truly, I had everything.

One day Jack was reading the stock section of the newspaper as I drank my morning tea. Jack was an all right guy. Man of few words, but very good at investing his money.

“Hey Jack. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure you can doll. What is it?”

“What did you see in my mom?”

Jack laughed heartily “You better be a little quieter asking questions like that dear. She might come in here and beat you over the head with a frying pan.”

I smiled “Seriously though.”

Jack sighed. “Well, it had been less than a year since Margie died and your mom and I met at a singles dance. For the first time in a long time she made me feel happy. Happiness was something that was missing from my life.”

“So… you were lonely?” I asked

Jack sipped his coffee deliberately and smiled at me. “I think we were both lonely. But we both had something the other needed” he said. “Plus we were drunker than a skunk” he joked.

I almost felt bad for Jack. That he was spending the last good years of his life with my mother, who was going to divorce him, take him for half of everything and move on to the next poor sucker.

It embarrassed me that I was even related to her. We literally had nothing in common and said very little to each other on a daily basis. Our relationship was hostile at best. She knew what I thought of her, and couldn’t blame me for it. Any woman who views marriage as disposable as toilet paper, has some serious issues to work out.

One day I came home from my theatre group and found mom half naked on the couch.

“Mom – are you okay?”

She was drunk… Or high. I wasn’t quite sure, since in addition to being a hard-working alcoholic, was also an avid pill popper.

She began to cry “Why did he have to go and cheat on me Mel, why?”

It took me a minute, but I was shocked to realize that she was talking about my dad. She actually still held a torch for him in that cold blooded barely beating heart of hers.

“Mom. Don’t do this to yourself. You’ve moved on. You left him. You remarried four times… You never looked back. Why bother torturing yourself? Let it go.”

“I loved him” she said, as she wiped her mascara dripping eyes.

“So… What about Jack?” I asked

She paused. “He was there…”

This was the first honest thing I had heard come out of my mother’s mouth in years.

“Well, why don’t you stop being this person and start being yourself again mom… I can’t fucking stand calling you Louise. The men you date are old enough to be my grandfather, and you are just a shallow shell of a human being. I want my old mom back. The one who didn’t mind me calling her MOM.”

She broke down crying. Something she rarely did. Long streaks of jet-black mascara lined her face. Her camisole strap fell off of her shoulder as she clutched her snotty tissue.

“I’m a horrible mother” she said

“Yes. You have been. But you don’t have to continue to be” I said

I was shocked at the size of my balls. These were things I had wanted to say to her for years, but had never built up the courage. I guess her weakened state of mind made it easy.

“Is this how you really want to live your life mom?”

She looked down at the hand-woven Indian rug. “No” she said. “No it isn’t.”

**********

Within a few weeks, she filed for divorce (yet again). Only this time things were different. She didn’t replace Jack. She stopped getting drunk every night at pathetic cougar bars, and she sold our estate home. She didn’t even take Jack for everything he had and was still able to be friends with him.

We moved into a modest home in a nice neighbourhood. One where our neighbours were a few feet away, as appose to a few acres away. It felt more normal to me. And our kitchen was even used for cooking sometimes!

Somehow, mom had done a total 360. I didn’t know how or why or even if it was what I said to her that night that changed her. But I was glad to have her back.

For my 18th birthday she booked a trip to Bali for us and we spent a week and a half hanging out. No men, no games, no Louise. Just me and my mom… hanging out. Trying to catch up on ten lost years.

The Vagina Tragedy

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I was attracted to his perfectly coiffed hair, suave urban hipster style, and his confident sexy strut. All of my coworkers swore he was gay, but something about the way my breasts attracted his attention told me otherwise.

Still… I had to find out for myself.

I spotted him at the photocopier, so I quickly unbuttoned two buttons on my blouse and sauntered over in my pencil skirt, swinging my hips like a saucy little bitch.

“Oh. Hey Kai. What’s happening?”

“Well honey, you’re pretty happening” he winked.

I thought I was going to melt through my panties. “That did sound pretty gay though…” I thought to myself. But then the wink. He clearly winked at me! It wasn’t a friendly wink either. It was an “I’d like to remove your panties” wink.

I know winks!!

I leaned against the photocopier and stared into his eyes for a few seconds until he caught my gaze. I smiled seductively and moved out of the way so he could remove his copies from the machine.

He leaned in “Hey – we should go grab a drink some time.”

“Sure.” I said. “I’d love to. How about tonight?” I smirked.

“Yeah…. Okay” he said, totally catching me off guard.

I froze in disbelief then strolled back to my desk with a permanent grin on my face, screaming inside about how exciting this was. I was so ecstatic I forgot to even pretend to make copies!

There was, however a pressing issue. I had to call Kerry and say “IN YOUR FACE”. She told me I was a fag hag.

I dialed her extension

“What?” she said in a bitchy tone.

“Is that how you answer your phone?”  I asked

“Only to you.”

“Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning? Fuck!”

“Look. Sorry… I just got in a fight with Tim. He’s being an ass.”

“Well… Fine whatever, I just wanted to tell you some exciting news. Kai ISN’T GAY!! We’re going out for a drink tonight!”

“What? Really?” she said “You’re gonna have to fill me in on THAT one! I heard he has a Chihuahua named Twinkle.”

I hung up and decided to go home for the rest of the day so I could begin my ritualistic goddess grooming procedures. There was plucking, waxing, and moisturizing to be done! I cranked the tunes, poured myself some wine and danced around my house as I embarked on my aesthetic endeavors.

At 7 o’clock he rang my doorbell. I looked through the peephole and felt myself growl like a hungry cat. I wanted to rip his Parasuco’s off, club him and drag him back to my cave… But first, I had to be a lady. At least for an hour.

I swung the door open and raped him with my eyes.

He smiled and said “Those gals are perfect” referring to my tits. I locked my door, turned into him and cupped his package “Well, we’ll just have to see how you fare”.

So much for being a lady.

Dirty girl it is.

We had appetizers at the bar, working sexual innuendo into our conversation as often as possible. We laughed at each others witty but ballsy style. He invited the gawks of every female in bar, all envious of his deliciousness.

I think it was around 11:30 when I felt myself getting sloppy drunk. He mentioned his dog and I blurted out “Your dog’s name isn’t fucking Twinkle is it?”

He glared at me, bit his lip and said “as a matter of fact it is, why?”

The bar was sort of rocking side to side and Kai occasionally had two heads. One martini too many me thinks. “Better shut my mouth or no cocky for me tonight” I thought.

Now my memory might be slightly askew but I think it was around midnight when I swore he rammed his tongue down another dude’s throat and introduced him as his partner. Then, another guy showed up. More drinks… and well, to make a long story short, I woke up THIS MORNING in the other guys bed!

No Kai… No twinkle… No deliciousness. Just a random who I don’t even remember shagging.

When I got to work I immediately stormed over to Kai’s desk. He giggled, grabbed my arm and dragged me into the lunch room ‘So… How was it last night?” he asked impatiently.

“You know… YOU’RE A FUCKING COCK TEASE!” I shouted.

Rejection at the speed of Porn

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She figured that the best way to capture a man was to work out compulsively and tan her body until it resembled an old leather boot. She wasn’t much for talking about the issues of the world, philosophy, or anything to do with spirituality and instead preferred conversations about shopping, working out, and sex.

“Why can’t I find a decent man?” she asked her sister one day

“Maybe they’re just intimidated by you” her sister said

“Yeah that’s probably it.”

One day she saw an ad in the paper for a speed dating event in the bar down the street. With nothing to lose and everything to gain she decided she would go and do her best to open herself up to the possibility of love.

She showed up to the event wearing her best tight mini skirt and bust endowing halter. Her legs were freshly shaved, her toe nails nicely manicured, and she had a brand new pair of black pumps on. Men smiled at her, and she smiled back. The organizer quickly ran through the rules, and the event began.

Rick

“So what do you do?” he asked

“I work in the adult entertainment industry.” she declared

His face changed. She quickly took the focus off of herself and asked “What do you do?”

“I’m a commercial lawyer”

The following minute or two got awkward. Rick rudely got up and went to the bathroom.

Brad

The next man she met was a scruffy looking guy named Brad. He smiled at her and said “You’re smokin’!”

She gave her best giggle and said “Thanks. You’re sweet.”

“What are you looking for?” he asked her.

“I don’t really know.” she said. “A nice guy who’s interested in more than sex.”

“What do you do?” he asked

“I work in the adult entertainment industry” she said

Brad laughed heartily and said “but you want someone who ISN’T focused on sex?”

“Well… yeah” she said “Why?”

“Shouldn’t you maybe change your career then?”

She stared at him blankly and finished her martini. “You can go now” she said. He left the table and went over to join his buddy at the bar. They both laughed and looked over at her.

Jason

Jason sat there sweating silently avoiding all eye contact. He kept compulsively taking sips of his drink and then clearing his throat. “Okay… Shall I start?” she asked

“Uh. Sure. Okay. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” said Jason

“Why are you here?” she asked

“Well, I guess I just don’t seem to have time to find a woman and I thought this might be a good opportunity to connect with someone who shares my interests.”

“What are your interests?” she asked

“Umm well I am a credit analyst, but really my passion is medieval reenactments. I am a member of several medieval clubs in the city and do a number of events. I also really like science fiction movies and have a collection of over 200 DVDs all alphabetized. Some of them still in their original packaging.”

“Cool” she said with a glazed over look in her eyes. “Listen, I have to go to the little girls room.”

BJ

BJ was 2 minutes late sitting down for their speed date.

“Sorry I’m late” he said. “Just had to have a quick puff”

“Oh you smoke?” she asked

“Not cigarettes” he smirked

“Oh” she said surprised “Like a lot?”

“I don’t consider pot to be a drug” he said. “It has huge medicinal ingredients and is way better for you than alcohol. Some of my friends get stupid drunk and I just like to smoke a bit of the reef and I’m good. I smoke a few times a day. The first joint of the morning is always best.”

She sat there silently smiling, watching him sway to the background music. Something else was going on in his head.

David

He was perfect. Hansome, built, stylish, and a great smile.

They flirted immediately. He moved his chair close to hers and touched her hand while looking into her eyes.

She giggled and said “Wow, I wasn’t expecting this”

“Expecting what?” he asked

“To meet someone… I don’t know. Like you.” she said

“You think I’m hot?” he asked

“To say the least” she said. “What about me? You like?”

“I like” he said. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

They went back to David’s place and had some wine and small talk, which mostly consisted of sexual inuendos and overt remarks about what they were going to do to each other.

In the morning she woke up with a smile on her face and looked beside her. His side of the bed was empty. She threw on one of his t-shirts and strolled into his kitchen hoping to find him making her breakfast or coffee. Instead, she found a note on the counter that said:

“Thanks for the great night. You are a sexy little vixen. Had to run. See you again soon!”

He didn’t leave his number or ask for hers. She found that very strange and began searching his apartment for anything that might have his phone number on it. After twenty minutes she decided that perhaps it was best if she left hers and trust that he would call her. After all, he did say “see you again soon”. That had to mean something.

Every day for the next week she thought about David and obsessively checked her voicemail. By the second week she started to think that maybe he had misplaced the piece of paper, or maybe he was out of town.

Three weeks went by. He didn’t call.

She quit her job.

Crazy Bitch

PaintedGirl

She sat on her couch staring blankly at the muted television playing reruns of Seinfeld. She could hear waves of mania whispering in her ear, feel it piercing into her bloodstream, pulsing through her body like an oncoming freight train. Now, all she had to do was wait. It was coming…

She smirked at the TV as she thought about what it would be like to rub butter all over George’s bald head. The visual image of this caused her to laugh hysterically until tears rolled down her cheek and her stomach hurt. Her heart was starting to pound out of her chest. She had to get up and go do something. Sitting on the couch just wouldn’t do, not with this type of energy, she had to get out… she needed to explore.

Feeling pretty good about herself, she put on some bright Red lipstick and a short mini skirt then headed off to do some shopping at Holt Renfrew, somewhere she normally never shopped. She tried on a dozen outfits until she found the one that was just right. Without looking at the price she ripped the tags off and walked out wearing the new outfit, her old one sitting in a trash can outside the dressing room.

The store security chased her out onto the street.

“Ma’am STOP right there NOW!”

She turned around with a smoke dangling from her mouth and a raised eyebrow “What?”

“You didn’t pay for that.”

“Oh” she said unsurprised.

She walked back into the store and threw her credit card down onto the counter.

“That will be $345.”

“Sure. Whatev!”

Dressed to the nines she headed back to her car. She cranked Peaches “Fuck the Pain Away” so loud that the bass rattled her windows and sent vibrations through her body. Disgusted onlookers glared at her harshly when they heard the nasty lyrics proudly pouring from her Honda Civic.

People just weren’t driving fast enough. “A bunch of fucking slow motherfuckers” she whispered under her breath. She laid into her horn getting the finger from several drivers around her. She decided to turn down a one way street (going the opposite direction) to make things faster and pulled up directly outside of a pub with loud music and drunk chicks hanging over the patio balcony.

“Perfect” she said.

Illegally parked on the sidewalk she headed inside.

She opened the door and strutted her ass over to the bar, walking with the swagger of a porn star about to collect the award for Best Fuck. Men stared at her hypnotically as she slid her body from side to side smirking with her pouty Red lips.

A loud obnoxious corporate guy shouted “you’re fucking hot”. She stopped in front of him and grabbed his tie, pulling him close to her, then licked his lips and the tip of his nose. She laughed and turned away from him as he watched her walk away, bewildered and turned on, but a little scared.

She sat by herself at the end of the bar. “I’ll have a double shot of Jack Daniels on the rocks” she shouted to the bartender.

“Sure thing” he said

She sat there for an hour or so and drank 4 double shots of JD, turned down 3 offers to buy her a drink, got 6 dirty looks, and stole 1 wallet. A hot Blonde woman strolled up beside her and asked “this seat taken?”

She smirked “it is now”

“I’m Celeste” the girl said, extending her hand

“Trix”

She swayed back and forth to the music and watched Celeste bent over the bar ordering two drinks; one for each of them. Celeste was wearing impossibly tight jeans, a slinky tube top, and some very nice stilettos. After some small talk and a few more drinks the two girls headed to the dance floor and made heads spin when they began dancing provocatively with each other.

“Lets get out of here” said Celeste

They went back to Trix’s house. The TV was still on mute and all the lights in the house were on. The fridge door was slightly open and the phone was off the hook. They sat on the couch for a few minutes and discussed the art in Trix’s living room.

“Do you wanna do something crazy?” asked Trix

“Always”

“Lets go downstairs and do some painting. I have this thing with being naked and rolling around in paint, then throwing myself at a canvas. It’s awesome and it makes for some pretty crazy art. You’ll love it. Come on.”

The next morning Trix woke up and looked beside her. Celeste was naked with crusty Red, Black and Pink paint covering most of her body. She looked down at her hands, they too were covered in paint.

Her bed was smeared with paint, the sheets would now be drop cloths.

She sat there with wide eyes surveying the carnage of her bed. “Sex, paint, and alcohol… That’s what happened” she thought to herself. Suddenly she burst out laughing waking Celeste, who opened her eyes smiling. She grabbed Trix and pulled her close “You’re a crazy bitch” she said kissing her on the forehead.

“I know” said Trix “I know.”

Some Demons Don’t Die

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I found him in his walk in closet. Door closed, naked, holding a shotgun. I could tell by looking at him that he’d been there a while. He had all of his paraphernalia beside him, and remnants of his compulsions littered the floor.

“Dude… I’ve been worried about you.”

“Shut the door. Hurry up and get in here. They’re out there.”

I shut the closet door behind me, sat on the floor cross-legged and put my hand on his leg. He was twitchy and so far gone I barely knew how to relate. He’d been slicing up his arms and legs something awful. The words “HELP ME” sliced into his Right forearm in blood, the words “I HATE THIS” sliced into one of his legs, and a big “X” on his belly.

“God Jay… This isn’t healthy. I can’t watch you spiral down like this”

“Shhh did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“They’re fucking in here, I know they are.”

He clutched the gun closer. I knew it was probably loaded.

“Jay. I just got here remember? I broke in through the back door. Maybe you’re mistaking me for them? I walked through your house. Nobody is in here I swear.”

“They wouldn’t have showed themselves to you. It’s me they want.”

I didn’t bother asking who “they” were, since I was pretty sure that “they” were a fictitious drug-induced form of psychosis. You just can’t rationalize with a crackhead.

He looked like shit, stunk too. Probably hadn’t showered in weeks. It always amazed me how someone who used to be so talented and good-looking could just slide down into hell so easily and become part of the underworld of society. When you’re partying with your friends and everyone’s high and having fun, you don’t think that this is gonna happen to any of you. And when it does, it’s a reality check.

None of our friends came around anymore. I was the last one. Everyone else had been accused of theft, lying, and conspiring against him. He was so fucking paranoid it defied logic. Even the dealers didn’t like coming around. But he was a consistent customer, so they had to.

I put my hand on the shaft of the gun. “Do you want me to take the gun and go look around for you?”

“No… I can’t give it to you.”

“Okay, well do you want me to go look around unarmed? Because I will.”

“Fine. But make sure you look in the backyard and the basement. Be careful.”

I agreed and made my way downstairs into the destroyed house that used to once be filled with friends and life.
Dishes that had been there for weeks collected mold in the sink. Old pizza boxes littered the floor, some still with food in them.  The living room was a graveyard of beer bottles, cans, bottles and cigarette buts. At least two cigarettes had burned down to the end by being left and forgotten on the table or floor.

After a good ten-minute inspection of his filthy house, I went back upstairs to report my findings and to bring him some tea.

“Here, drink this. There’s no one down there. You’re just really high.” I sighed. “Listen… Why don’t you come with me to my house for a few days? Get away from this shit hole. You’re in a mental prison here by yourself, and you keep getting high thinking that it’ll make you feel better, but all it does is make you more psychotic. You need to give up the drugs dude. How much worse can things get?”

“I know, I know. I did too much. I bough enough for a two month supply and used it all the past two weeks. It’s all gone. And now I’m too fucking high to go get more and I’m gonna get sick.”

My throat had a lump in it and tears began to sting my eyes “Dude look at you. You’re fucking cut and bleeding everywhere, you’re paranoid as fuck, you don’t have a grasp of reality anymore. You quit the band, you don’t play anymore… You’re spending all your money. A lot of our friends can’t deal with you. You need help.”

“I know” he said

I opened the closet door, stood up and reached down for his hand. He stood to his feet and walked out into his bedroom, squinting at the sunlight coming in through the window.

“Give me the gun Jay. And here, put these on.”

He handed it over and I went downstairs in the basement to hide it while he got dressed.

When I got back upstairs he was lying on his bed shivering.

“Come on, you’re coming with me.”

He didn’t put much of a fight up. I brought him back to my apartment and put him in my bed. Listened to him scream, shout, throw things, cry, and moan in agony for a week. All I did was take him tea, soup, water, vitamins, and T3s.  He begged to use my phone, begged me to take him to his dealer, tried to sneak out onto my balcony but realized it was too high, and eventually… gave up.

On the 8th day he emerged from my bedroom wrapped in my pink robe. He came and sat beside me on my couch while I worked.

“Hey” he said “Thanks for giving a shit.”

“If I didn’t, nobody else would” I said “I wasn’t about to watch you kill yourself”

“So, what now?” he asked

“Well you’re not going back to that depressing hell hole you call a home I’ll tell you that much. We’re gonna pack that place up and sell it. You can stay here with me until it sells. You can’t go back there. You’ll just start using again.”

A few weeks later Jay moved into a new apartment, conveniently close to mine. I hosted a BBQ for him and invited all of our old friends who’d abandoned him or who just couldn’t deal with him anymore. Everyone was so surprised to see a clean and socially capable Jay. Girls hit on him again, his old band mates hugged him, and he felt good about himself for the first time in a long time.

Things were going really well… He stayed clean, got a new job in a sound studio and even had a cute girlfriend. I was so proud of him and felt like a parent releasing their child into the world after college graduation.

Then one day I got a phone call.

It was the phone call I always knew could come, but hoped wouldn’t.

It was Jay’s mom.

He was dead.