the crones have spruced up quite nicely for their date. Gladyce has even put on a spruce tree as her dress. Doryce has gone the more traditional route wearing rainbow-striped anklesocks which stretch right into her cooch inside the folds. and a smoking tophat. she's obviously gonna be the one paying.
Doryce: i'll pay. no sudden moves or i'll know. it's a killer to walk in this but this is what i do for you for beauty. let's go, it's a walk in leaves wetted by freezing rain. it's been awhile since we've been back to the homefires, Obec is looking rainy and damp.
Gladyce: tis the season. i am so excited! i've never actually tasted lox before. i've seen bagels and lox since Night Court since forever everywhere on screen but this is my first time. i'm a bit scared, what is it exactly?
Doryce: i do all the fishing in this relationship, huh? it's like thinly-sliced veiny Heathcliff-fishboned barely-tasteable orange fish that won't scar you the way anchovies do with their pungency and eyes and paws. by night's end it will own the key to the lock of your heart. it looks like bacon but everything looks like bacon.
Doryce: huh, we're at the Bagel Bakery, it's a fancy restaurant, yet there is no line. i swing the door open like a swinger...
Euroclydon works here. her face is pale despite being dark and she wears her tangerine hair up in a high beehive to match the piles of food she serves on a silver tray. the mood is atmospheric with purple and blue dinner music being played surrounding-out the boarded-up Barded-up windows. the food is aligned in neat rows of wood for the public to pick at. overhead yellow lamps on swings heat the food and set the light mood to a dinner-light dim.
Doryce: wer're the Bagel Bakery Broads! oh my! you are one hot babe, dear!
Euroclydon: thank you. i'm getting used to blushing practicing for my wedding.
Doryce: do you mind if i turn you around, dear---watch the tray and your tray of tits---so i can get a gander at that insane ass you have tightly wound in jeans? i mean that thing is strings pulled up to perfection! your ass is bigger than your entire body yet smaller than your head, it's a miracle!
Euroclydon: not offended despite my cohort. i've been called worse here. it's nice to hear a compliment every once in a while even if it's couched in the old language. besides, you two are legends of the greatest generation we owe our freedom to you guys! i'm gonna blog this encounter when i get home.
Gladyce: oh you have a destination blog, too? you young people how you have to pay for college now, traveling from Puerto Rico. i'm guilty, too, but mine is murder. in order to publish a cogent post i have to skip lunch every Tuesday. yeah. bad for a batty like me but i'm sure your young butt bones can handle it, dear. you've got a figure to look after after all, it's good for you.
Doryce: don't explain, maintain. the old language? Euro? are you by chance from the Old Country!?
Euroclydon: everyone's from the old country. now what the hell do you want from me? sorry there's a lot of stress in the air like hay fever.
Doryce: *winking* gotcha, yeah it's true, it's like life was a certain way since the beginning of time and suddenly these last three years a blue-bolted swinging door came in and changed the fundamentals of how we walk on a street.
Euroclydon: what'll it be? i've lost my black pencil.
Euroclydon comes back and forth many times to that table offering many more views of the ass. for condiments and napkins and stuff. she returns with on her tray a huge long pile high up of their specialty.
Doryce: looks like a lot of hamburgers. they're halved but there's nothing in the buns, unlike you. oh no please, no more black dots on the bread i can't do that anymore, had that episode.
Euroclydon: all seven of these poppy bagels stacked high have a hidden compliment condiment in them, inside their buns, spread on in like butter, schmear. see i was called the Schmear Queer here for the longest.
Gladyce: kids are cruel. people are cruel. everypeople. luckily we're not most people. in fact we're not really people. in the classic sense, more the Classical sense. this is delightful dining, dear! thank you for all your hard work which goes unnoticed daily.
Euro: *smiling* thank you. my wedding will be a thumb-to-the-chin in these times. i wear my SJW as my badge of honor instead of my nameplate.
Doryce: well that's a lucky woman *lazy grin, tongue out* i smelt you a mile away, you were sisterhood from the start. good luck on your real destination. may the world bend to your love. in order to change the culture, you have to change the culture. and change it back. when it inevitably strays. that's your job on this planet, caretaker. take care.
Doryce: oh and for dessert on the way out the door, how about two well three of those green-tea boba shakes?
Euro: um those are actually drinks.
Doryce: *drinking* oh these little cute gummy roundabout brown balls, they look like my poo pellets back home in our home toilet......oh wow, how many of these boba things are here in this cup? i've already counted 100 bobas. there are fucking 1000 bobas in this damn cup! i can't eat them all, they're starting to replace the lining of my stomach they're too gummi! i think i'm gonna be sick, i'm gonna have to spew out the rest of the bobas like a Ms. Pac-man who realizes she's eaten too much for her frame! it's cool, right? you won't have to worry about us putting the bagels on our dicks and eating them that way taking each bite counter-clockwise and chewing.
Doryce: don't wash that floor for like an hour, like the bathroom. wait for it to spic then span. so was it good for you?
Gladyce: you paid the bill?
Doryce: sure i wrote something down. bagels and drinks all total came to 2 hundred bucks. the lox interestingly was not the most expensive, they catch 'em local. bread and water. but it was a steep price well-invested in order to eat well and to look well. as in looking at that ass the whole time was worth the money.
at the MSNBC Studios, Katy Tur is crying.
generic had-it black woman: i'm sorry for earlier at the vote booth, it's stressful down there. especially in Florida, you have to take your gun with you or you won't get registered. packing for progressives. can i make you some of my aunt's tater tots?
Katy: i'm crying cos i'm pregnant...
generic had-it black woman: oh no you dint! i thought that was your tit! i just thought your tit was that big and no wonder you were so popular!
Mueller: it's not mine, it's time. i don't have time for that, i'm standing up for the men and women of my FBI who do the work and get none of the glory on tv. they simply quietly go about their day doing their damn job, i'm proud of each and erry one'em! i mean can you imagine the stress of having to catch that crazed mailbomber BEFORE the fucking election!? i mean we couldn't catch him ON Election Day that would have been too suspicious for FOX. it's like suddenly our troops had this lifetime assignment they had to complete in a week! it's like studying the Bible and the Breaking Bad bible for a live televised debate that same Christmas Day wth Santa Claus himself Daniel Dennett. all of my men (and women) didn't have time to vote this cycle they were that busy. but we still won.
Katy: what's with all the black markings on your face, Bob? they look cute.
Mueller: this thing is far from over! hey ho tally ho mystery! i can do Skull and Bones, too. and keep digging for skullduggery. i've discovered my passion for art just as this thing was drawing to a close. i'd been writing discursively and typing fruitlessly for years but then i took out my black sharpie pen and started DRAWING! a whole new world opened up for me, i'm never gonna quit drawing!
Dirg: i know, right? the more you do it the better you get at it. the lines start to come naturally with erry stroke. shapes form. in your mind...
Bush 43: i started painting, that's how my drawing led me to salvation.
Chris Matthews: *interviewing Amy Klobuchar* you'd make a good President, run. more than anything else, not your mien or moxie or mothering, it's that you're hot. no i'm serious, now that i've got you up close and i get a good look at you under hot lights without your glasses on you are a fox! a real fox, not those FOX fakes. you come from the Genie Bouchard line of androids, right? i mean left. clobber 'em, Amy!
President Bump sits down at the pew and hands Michelle Obama a roll of stamps.
Bump: i'm giving these to you but you're gonna have to pay for them. they're fresh off the mint, no percentage price label on them yet. but they're legal.
Michelle really thinks about running at the moment of that handshake.
Bump: the only thing i remember about Bush 41 was the broccoli thing. if the President hates broccoli then i didn't have to eat any! oh and he was on SNL but so was i and i did it better and higher-ratingsier. i declared a Week of Mourning cos i just wanted a vacation from all this shit. plus it's raining. i just put it out there into the universe as we all do...
Laertus: sir you are a Squishy Wizard.
Dirg: stop trying to fit people into boxes with package labels to ship them off. enough with the lazy nerdoholic TVTropes, break free and through from tropes with TNT. or Trent Reznor's TVT label. if anything, our President is a black swan, there, that's more elegant, more ballet.
Bump: what is it with me and my administration and green vegetables? let's focus on the blue, i was looking at the map the other day and see all this blue everywhere all over the place and i'm like, so where's the global warming?
Laertus: sir that was the electoral map. the Denocrats took control back of the House. blue wave?
Bump: i catfished on that wave. looking for George Clooney. hoping our ally Japan would help us out with that wave, hoping it would wipe out Alaska so i wouldn't have to hear Palin's squawky voice on the phone again. Alaska is one of our trade partners, right? hoped it wasn't too big or bad so i wouldn't have to get out there in my surfer trunks for a photo-op with babes uh babies uh babies on boards. and did you see the strong calves on Gina this morning? she needs to workout those knees of hers to support her weight! her tit weight!
Laertus: sir, that wasn't a weather girl, that was Gina Haspil. maybe you should go to the hospital.
Bump: Erica Grow makes me grow.
Molly Qerim: back at First Take, how are you this fine morning, gentlemen? i'm happy cos Stephen A. is on remote location at some fleabag motel somewhere paid for by ESPN miles away from Bristol Connecticut, i got Max all to my lonesome self. everytime i look into his baby blues i am starstruck! you were in Creed II!
Stephen A. Smith: Molly the fleas are teaching me how to act. whenever i throw a brick at them, heehee.
Molly: you were born to act, Max! you were in Dirty Dancing my favorite movie of all time! i always wanted to do the Lift but i was always too ethnic for that, you know. us fatbottom girls.
Max: i'm not that Max Kellerman, though Jerry Orbach as you might suspect was a huge fight fan. he once boxed S. Epatha to a draw, she recounted as such at the Red Table. fat girls out there watching, just wait, you're young, eventually you'll grow into your body. all that fat will be transferred into your curves as an adult and you won't be able to fit into dresses, it'll be great!
Molly: you are so wise, Max. you came clean and talked about hitting your wife, that was so brave.
Max: i could cos there was no video of it. right, Bump? you bastard.
Bump: my sins?, just audio, no video. hello, Piers, my old friend, where the hell have you been?
Piers Morgan: you deported me back to Britain after Brexit, remember? left me on a lonely pier. the Plum Boys got scared of a foreigner on their soil broadcasting to Americans and flipped their shit and their Undercut wigs. i'm here with Ariana Grande...i've already won, debate over, my name's on the Twitter Trending. do you blame me? NOW snooty snark is acceptable, i'm just cashing in on my career.
Ariana: thank u, next. i don't remember you being this much of a wimpy wanker, you toned it down to honor Larry King which i watched with my Nan. didn't your mother ever...well ever? you watched Victorious? you better have a daughter. *smiles showing her sparklehorse gold teeth*
Piers: my mother taught me to seek truth and the falsehood of copy, not to speak it. you know, it was very surprising what happened after Victorious. the star of that show was supposed to hit it big, or even Liz Gilles in a Santa hat, but it turned out to be YOU. where is that Vega chick anyway now?
Ariana: MTV, the coffin of cuties.
Laertus: oh PLEASE let Liz Gillies and Matt Bennett be a thing! that would be a true babe-nerd pairing that would last! and a triumph for puppet freaks everywhere! Liz should do SNL.
Pete Davidson: what's the deal with getting breakup tattoos? what's the point of that? seems a bit counterintuitive. the love tattoo is cos you want to remember the person forever in permanent ink. why would you want a permanent reminder on your skin of a failure? a constant Memento you can't escape. your body is not allowing you to forget and move on.
Ariana: at least they weren't divorce tattoos.
Federer: speaking of SNL, i'm ready to do my podcast Detail now, my voice is relaxed and rested from the one-month offseason we get for opening Christmas presents. each year my wrapped Christmas packages are always in the shape of tennis racquets i can immediately tell what they are. racquets in not-so-good-shape. can't you tell how eased and easy my speaking voice is? and *push* the button with my ringed finger.
Chrissie Evert: like butta.
Federer: you're finally coming around. when it's just the two of us it's like a proper date. so how was your SNL experience?
Chrissie Evert: Dennis Perkins ranks me as one of the best sports hosts ever on SNL. after Joe Montana's masturbation nothing-in-his-head-but-echo-chamber skit. i had a Martina in mine and murdered Martina but it was all fun cos murder means nothing now. i wish the real Martina had been my scene partner but she wasn't cool enough yet then like she is now. i had just quit tennis then and really thought i was gonna be an actress...
Dirg: i don't care what nobody says, Perkins has the dream job, he watches tv because the shows offer him illegal rips of the show from the studio a week in advance, he went to his preppy East Coast quaint small-town Stephen King college to gain all those vocab words, he studied hard there and didn't watch tv, all so he could watch tv now. didn't have a tv in his dorm room all four years.
Laertus: it's not worth the soul-crushing comments he has to read which challenge his manlihood, livelihood, and leftyhood.
Federer: should i do SNL? there's no Swiss SNL late at night, just softcore cheese commercials with long pipes starring Mike McCarthy.
Chrissie: of course, Roger! Roddick sucked, take it from me.
Judge Judy: you know when people say my name now, all they think about is the obscene amount of money i make. it's not good for my image nor my tribe's. somewhere along the way i think i took the wrong track.
Bump: you should have been meaner, that's always the right tack. thumbtack up your doggy soggy bottom.
Judge Judy: i mean shouldn't i be a Chief Justice or something? like I should be Ruth Bader, not Ruth Bader. i look like Ruth Bader...without glasses...
Bump: it's yours if you handle Mueller for me. get me off on a tv technicality or something, like Mueller shouldn't have done that tv interview.
Eye Luggage: okay go, great show, why am i getting so many brochures at my doorstep? in the middle of my shrimp toast and kommunist kombucha from the Bouchard assembly line here at my desk, my mouth is a mess right now, looks a mess, my teeth are turnt, thank goddess for radio.
Dirg: fresh take: the little girl in the latest Doctor Who episode couldn't act for shit.
Eye: dude, the girl is BLIND!!!
Dirg: so? don't all you freaks want to be treated equally?
Laertus: i quite like how Chibnall hasn't used ANY of the classic Who monsters yet, let's hope that continues in the series finale, which doesn't mean the same in the States as on the Pond. that would be a fresh take on the franchise. and was that the first Doctor Who ever set in Norway?
at LUSh Dirg is on the blue bed in the private room apart from the soaps rack. needs a skeleton key to get in through the wooden sliding door, a skeleton key with the head of The Pope wearing a skullcap. he is lain there with his arms and feet in a cross, looking up and witnessing the myriad of dizzying blue-spark spells whizzing by his nose which Madame Pons activates with her wand wildly swinging back and forth causing the ceiling to rumble. bits of dried dusty concrete fall onto Dirg's catching tongue like a Slayer concert in a rainy white storm squall.
Dirg: i don't think this is working, Doc, you're freaking me out with all these ghosts but all i see are stars. the bed is soaking wet but i'm not feeling wet in my front.
Pons: you got the vaginal egg inserted in your dickhole?
Dirg: yeah but nothing. let me try something.
he stands up on the mattress and positions his penis into Pons's mouth pushing her down by her pointy shoulders getting his ringfinger stuck in her head of auburn wasp's-nest of fried coiled curls.
Dirg: it's okay. for science. it's not threatening cos i have an egg penis now...…...what if you join me? insert a vaginal egg into yourself and join me on the bed. we'll hold hands and not look at each other and everything, side-by-side.
Pons sweats it out but does exactly that. but she does turn to look at him on the bed.
Pons: anything for my patients. and my patience. hey, look at me, you've never looked at a woman before have you? i mean at her face. in her eyes.
Dirg: no. i don't get that in porn during the blowjob, it just freaks me out. those wiggling pupils while sucking.
there is no more action up top. only their words breathing a topsoil layer onto the chippy ceiling.
Pons: the zucchetto. the cap of skull. like a tight dress. capped off with a skull.
Dirg: and i like zucchini, it's as Italian as the Pope, looks like a cock. that should be the cap of Life not death.
Dirg: fill him up.
at the Mansion Dirg cannot be seen dropping two drops of Purple Stuff into Stan Lee's Coca-Cola cup. cos Coke is dark and hidden. Dirg is moving with his spindly ringfinger the dot which moves the cursor on Laertus's laptop desktop on Stan's desk. a Russian woman in a Mister Rogers sweater with an impossibly large model ass is asking silently if he can undress her?
Stan: *unparching* oooh that's good on a chilly night.
Dirg: pimp cup. Coke for the Bloke. a young person's beverage. yeah it's basically long-island iced tea.
Stan: where's your cup? aren't you thirsty?
Dirg: always. just look at the screen.
Stan: who's the woman?
Dirg: she's not important, i'll explain later. this is a foundational film about foundations. a guide not a gimmick generating geoducks with geodon inside. a manual not a movie. for form and function not fun. showtime...