Kit Harington is having a bad spell of it trying to cope with post-
GOT life. he no got a handle on his emotions yet.
he stumbles up the dust mountain and surveys the landscape. some green, but mostly dry brush. ready for a fire at any second. the land's seas could be jewels if only they shone in the heat. he needs to see a twinkle for the one in his eye is burnt out. it's too hot to be wearing a real animal-hide---especially in L.A.---as a fur brown coat but he does so anyway, he trudges on, he keeps wearing his hair in braids and howls at the sun.
Dr. Drew: *his glasses gleaming the rays of the sun* hey Kit! hi! how bout we come down from there, huh? it's time for group. follow my orders, my nigga? don't you want to go swimming? we have a pool on our roof. the glass panels keeps it a toasty 70-degrees at all times.
Kit has taken a break. a nice one-month break to rest his limbs, escape from all the crayzy cray-cray of crowds, from the Hollywood machine, and decide what he wants to do next to fulfill the rest of his life.
Kit: *on the phone with Kate Beckinsale* yeah.
Kate: Kate and Kit, it was kismet. so do you know what you want to do with the rest of your life, you old codger?
Kit: that's exactly it, mate, i have NO CLUE. i just sorta stumbled into
Game of Thrones and have been there ever since. i was so intense the whole time i forgot to laugh once and my face froze in that position forever, from all the promised Winter snow, snow get it? i can never laugh again, my face is a permanent gurn, no wonder i'm so sad and melancholy all the time. my jaw has fixed. i'm feeling jittery and directionless, i'm an aimless agnostic of nature.
Kate: okay but you ain't gonna top yourself, right boy? do i need to come over there? where are you?
Kit: top-secret location. it's brilliant, it's a rehab but it's really a bed-n-breakfast. they say i'm mentally-ill, but i've always known i'm mental. this is more a case of i need to fooking SLEEP! so i rented a villa in that part of Los Angeles where all the dried lakes are, a little twee white house covered by one pine tree covered by one palm tree, and i use this space to SLEEP FOR A MONTH. really! that's all i do! that is what i need right now.
Kate: okay, but did you need that expensive house to do this?
Kit: i do nothing all day. Dr. Drew is here to keep me company with his big words. the Trivago Guy is here and he keeps staring and smiling at me. and Andy Richter's here, desperate to replace James Corden's car karaoke with throwback Seinfeld, Andy paces the hallways at all hours with a nervous grinfuck on his pudgy face. and i see Conan O'Brien slink into the secret room at 1AM when it's supposed to be lights-out and everyone---including that woke pink nurse---is supposed to be long fast asleep.
Kate: who's in the room?
Kit: Sophie Turner. don't worry, babe, nothing's going on, she hasn't turned me, Sophie's helping me like she helps everyone, she's a registered nurse you know, not many do, she keeps it on the down-low being so young. she's making quite the killing---i mean money, not medieval---doing her slap therapy, she slaps guys for a hefty handsome chunk of change. the men say it works, but only if she does it, only if she's the precise practitioner. after awhile they don't even notice that they're doing it without the alcohol! Dr. Drew is both pleased and suspicious of her methods.
Kate: Sophie's a beautiful girl, but that tattoo of hers mars her beauty.
Kit: don't worry, i let her have it!
Kate: *gasp* what do you mean?
Kit: for teling the world that it was I who caused the Starbucks incident. this was an international scandal and incident! well it wasn't me, i was too drunk to have caused it. i got her back. meaning i slapped her back and face---she wanted me to, just to clear that up. safe words and the like, she had an early flight so she gifted me a bottle of booze with one of those ridiculously-long giraffe-glass necks. it was a gift, it'd be rude of me not to accept it.
Kate: you're keeping us on the down-low, right babe? not telling the papers?
Kit: absolutely. no. absolut. especially the London ones. you know my brain cracked and i had a nervous breakdown RIGHT after my appearance on
SNL. i don't know if it was seeing my wife there for the first time in ages, or joking how i'd be carving jewelry and beach seashell necklaces by the shore to make ends meet after---knowing in my head i wasn't joking, that's why that joke landed, it was so realistic---or what.
Kate: I know what it was: Pete Davidson. he's enough to make ANYONE crazy. crazy like him. he actually shares his crazy with you till you start to not notice the difference and start thinking nothing's wrong and everything you do is normal. i got out of there with the skin of my teeth, and my facial on my face still intact and steam-dried, and only one tooth missing from excessive eating of sugary cereals.
Kit: gotta go, Drew is calling me, we're gonna play seashell-telephone together on the beach tonight by the lit palm tree just the twee two of us.
Marie Kondo in a kimono is being interviewed:
Wolf: so Marie, a housewife from a New Jersey tenement is claiming you stole her idea of folding things upright. she says SHE should be the one with the conglomerate. what is your response?
Marie Kondo: i'm losing my broken accent for this one so i make myself perfectly and unequivocally clear: FUCK YOU. that's as plain-Japaness as i can put it. damn Bump voters! lemme guess, she has pink rollers in her hair and smokes a cigarette her bosom the ashtray? she's a curtain-twitcher even though she's surrounded on all sides by red brick wall. the Japanese invented the fan shape, you know this, right? it's in all our umbrellas. take a step back: who do you side with? me who comes from the ancient Japanese ancestry of advice stone-wells and wisdom wellsprings and wellwishers and stone-washers by the rainbow-trout streams of the Edo period!!?...or some bitch.
at the hospital, a vegetable Alex Trebek receives a visitor...tho he can't know it...
Vic Mignogna bends down and holds Trebek's hand.
Vic: i'm sorry for everything! also, the bouquet of flowers and assorted roses i bought you at the corner shop got lost in the rain, sorry aboot that.
Holzhauer: you went puddle-jumping?
Vic: it wasn't my fault, that was the '80s where anything went! besides all i did was love them! i mean not like that i love everyone...in the Christian way.
Holzhauer: what is Christian rap? like REALLY what is it? what is its reason for being? why, just why? like Anything On Ice. i listened to some DC Talk i found in my son's contraband backpack from school and i have to tell you, those were some of the most disturbing lyrics i've ever read and laid eyes on. and i come from Vegas the place where ice is still new.
Ken Jennings: buddy, don't touch his hand. not my rules, the doctors say the back of his hand is still tender from all the pricks and lines.
Holzhauer: Alex Trebek did much pimp-slapping in his youth...on the mean streets of Canada...finally caught up with him...
Vic: oooh, i am so very sorry. i don't want to cause anyone any more pain, except all my prosecutors and accusers, they are all liars.
Alex starts to come to. his eyes widen a bit and his wry smile emerges again under his mustache as if he never had his mustache shaved off.
Alex: *weakly* you, Vic? oooh hello, i thought i told that nurse with the big boobs to deliver me some nog, leave the whiskey in it. then i slapped her on her ass. or as we Canadians say it, arse. i thought i had ordered an Italian dessert...both meanings. three scoops of vanilla ice cream on top of my filet mignon. but all i got was some anime freak.
Ken's eyes widen as well.
Ken: whoa! change of plans. YOU! blondie woth the spiked tips from the '80s, keep touching his hand!
Vic: uh...well...okay...but first you have to promise to tell me to my face in the next five minutes that my hair is THROWBACK '80s.
Holzhauer: apologize to the man, blondie! i mean you, Ken.
at The Weather Channel:
Goody Paul: this Father's Day, Mother Nature wins!...…...nope, sorry, no, can't do this anymore, reading this copy is beneath me.
Maria LaRosa bats her eyelash from across the world in the Yucatan. which creates a strong sexualized sirocco.
Goody Paul: okay, i'll continue to read the copy and do my part to save the world.
President Bump at his latest rally now only streamed by drones with weird crosses on them out of Alex Jones's '70s-shag-carpet basement:
Bump: so the Academy Awards suck, right? i hate them! they have NEVER thought to honor me for all i've done for the world! i mean not even a participation trophy? i'd take that participation trophy and frame it on my wall. despite how they hate me i will still watch the women play soccer. i could never play soccer on account of my San Antonio Spurs. that's why all my Cabinet members are Acting, cos i love to act!
the crowd is crazy, not goes crazy.
Bump: there's a lot of concentration happening in this room, in our little camp.
LaVar Ball in the
First Take Studios from a remote: hello, mon ami, mon cheri! i'm coming to you from the action. hey, there's a dude in my shot, i'll kick his ass out of my shot using no hands! he's dribbling the soccer ball on his chest and chin and thinks he's so cool. he's climbing the lamppole next to that Illuminati Triangle glass art museum! don't worry, you don't need security, LaVar Ball IS security, i'll usher him out in due course. now where were we? i look up Poppy Montgomery for that Google Nest commercial and no hits, turns out it was Aly Wagner! do you have these problems, too? hey, i support the women! i bought a whole red case of 24 Cokes to support Women's Soccer. it was blue and white, too! don't front me!
Molly Qerim: so...……………..are you gonna apologize to me or what? i've been waiting here patiently ten minutes after work at 9AM. that HR quip wasn't a joke, Q don't play, i've had to deal with men my WHOLE life as you can see by looking at me.
Jalen Rose: i'd like to give you that home run, wifey, i'd take you, Ball, like you were a basketball in my magic hands, but...i mean look at the size of this dude! he's like The Hulk, even has that macabre Hulk grin to his teeth. Black Hulk. i mean was this guy a wrestler? i mean a fake wrestler.
LaVar: i did nothing wrong, sweetgums, switch gears, i'm a mechanic by trade. i fix up cars and relationships. i need a real American job now that the Facebook Series is kaput and it don't look like that reparation check will be in my postbox any time soon.
Dirg: i like what LaVar did here, his spokesperson is a woman, very sneaky keen sly and coy, Lavar, you go, boy, you playin' dem games.
Molly: focus, LaVar, my next question to you is above your pay-grade.
Kenan Thompson: great, now i can't play LaVar Ball anymore on
SNL. what the hell am i gonna do for work?
Molly: oh good, goodness, thank goddess, Tiger's coming in studio right now to bail us all out. never thought i'd say those words again. what's the haps, Tiger?
Tiger Woods: Pebble Beach was the breaking point, literally. i knew i couldn't compete with other manly men when i saw that dude break his steel golf-club over his knee like that.
Dirg: yep yep yep. there is no force in the universe as strong as a white man's anger. not even a roided-up black man with a wood bat.
Max: why was it overcast the entire four days? the sun didn't shine once!
Tiger: threw me off. my game. my red shirt wasn't refracting the heat. the red color appeared bloody and orange. save it for the Irish Major next month, weather!
Stephen A Smith: *on the phone secretly in studio* Drake? you do me and i do you, remember poutine patna? you get me global entry and the whole Masai thing goes away...what? the camera's on me?...hello, globe!
Tiger: i was sharing an Obec Carmel caramel-colored bungalow over a cliff with Lindsey Vonn, we're tryna rekindle.
LaVar: yeah yeah! i've been over there! i was your mechanic for a job over there.
Tiger: mechanic?
Lavar: yep yep yep, your mechanic of the bathroom, the plumber! i was helping Lindsey hold the portable showerhead to her body to wash her off, she was having difficulties standing with all her ski injuries where she wrecks her body for months at a time trying to crazy-jump off white mountains. i took pictures of her like this, and video...for posterity i mean for physical therapy, to show the doctors of her progress...
Tiger: how would you gauge her? i mean her hopes for recovery?
LaVar: perfect 10.
Molly: we got OJ Simpson, LaVar Ball, and Bill Cosby on
The View next on this channel at the next studio over. talk about The Three Stooges...
Whoopi: where are the real black men? where is Dennis Rodman?
The View is shown under red lights:
Whoopi: i mean how do they allow these people to still have twitter pages? OJ thinks the world wants to hear his hot takes on...things, pop culture and stuff...
Meghan McCain: not even I do.
Dirg: yeah but i mean, only OJ knows for sure about Khloe Kardashian's paternity, so only he can share this news and bit of information and add to the grand pop-culture conversation online. add his piece, do his part. it's all one big Hollywood Illuminati conglomerate.
Bella Thorne with a tissue in her hand: you're just jealous that i'm hot and young and nubile and nobody has EVER asked you for a nude your entire life, Whoopi! this is so disappointing, i looked up to you, i almost bcame a nun cos of you. you have all those young suicides on your bloody hands now!
Whoopi: kid i don't care about suicides, i almost died recently! okay, i'm sorry, i snapped, a bit of misdirected anger on my part, i'm still sore that i was too sore to host the Oscars.
Joy Behar with her perm: the truth is, they never asked you to. i bring joy to the world.
Bella: ...so it turns out after the paternity test...i'm really Jeff Bezos's daughter...it all makes sense now...
Doryce: knucklehead!
Dirg: *sleeping, woken up unanticipated* huh wha?
Doryce: you did it again, numbskull! the gardeners! do you have no shame? they told me all about you. you leave a heavythick-clear big plastic bag of poo for them to find? is that some troubled Nazi sign? a passive-aggressive warning shot?
Dirg: what? no, you have it all wrong. Gladyce says she gets sick when the shitbag is left inside in the kitchen trashcan so i take it out, i was doing you a courtesy, you probably got an extra vulva-lick out of what i did, you should be thanking me. i just happened to throw it out on the same spot where the Mexicans lawnmower.
Doryce: the gardeners don't take that sign as benignly as you do. you must always be aware of your surroundings, always thinking what the less-fortunate are thinking about the same situation, about you, about seeing a sack of shit in their path...
Doryce: Gladyce dear, you look positively ragged!
Gladyce: *yawning* been burning the midnight oil. can you get me a cuppa at The Store, dear?, i am fleshed-out and fatigued. a coupla cuppas, a whole case of coffee.
Doryce: sure, hon, right away. oh there are so many places i wish we could visit together, things i need to take you, things i need to show you...but alas i've been banned from them all. i wish we could burn the midnight-oil together hopping on bar countertops at the Cowgirl Winery. or go back in time to the first-ever bathing machine, you know i was the first-ever woman to take a nude selfie inside a bathing machine and post it online. when i got out, the other Victorian prudes golf-clapped politely behind the men's backs when they weren't watching and each flashed me a wry smile.
Dirg: shoulda flashed you something else. namely, their vulvas. what ever happened to Midnight Oil? all those Australian bands got lost in the Outback...
Laertus: *checking the scores on his Pear watch* hello Llywarch, long time no see nor conception.
Llywarch: WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!!!
Laertus: it's gonna be okay, i think, it's reached a stable tipping point. critical mass calmed. you know how on Instagram, whenever you don't type with someone for like two months, when they haven't posted anything in two months, you always assume the worst. you figure this person has committed suicide.
Llywarch: um , yeah, i know the feeling, BELIEVE me i know the feeling!
Eye Luggage: okay, playtime's over, Larry, let's get down to business. anime roundup, go.
Laertus: oh i love that commercial with the Chinese kid lost in America, unable to speak. the one thing that brings the kids together, the one thing that unites them over the span of the entire globe, the one thing all cultures understand, is
My Hero Academia!!!
Dirg: are you still off Chinese food?
Laertus: not only that, i'm only gonna eat Muslim food from now on to spite them!
Eye: there is still so much
Ballykissangel to talk about. the discussion will never end.
Laertus: i feel this and you. feel it in my lovely bones.
Eye: there is a real moral dilemma with Assumpta's death and the granting of Last Rites.
Laertus: i know what you mean, what is one to do in such a sticky situation? Father Clifford loves Assumpta so much that he doesn't want to see her burn in Hell forever. and yet it was her explicit wish NOT to be granted Last Rites, so isn't he honoring her and loving her more by granting HER wish and not God's?
Eye: love ultimately is about respect. NOT getting the Rites was Assumpta's fuck-you to the Church she despised, it was her very being, it was the action that would define her everlastingly and identify her hard-won weariness, her apathy stance on things, her essence, her truth, she believed in her nonbelief. stripping her of her right to die as she wanted was stripping her of her.
Dirg: this is above my pay-grade. and God's. and Father Clifford GOT no sticky situations, that was the problem. there WAS no stripping. he might as well have loved an imaginary Big Red Dog for all the loving he got back.
Eye:
Twilight Zone The Movie, go.
Laertus: i promised my pop i would never watch this film cos of the accident. and that's really where you have to begin and end.
Dirg: Landis thought he would slip in that
National Lampoon joke in the Vietnam section and THAT is what would be remembered from the movie all these years later.
Laertus: sure, there's the shock of the cartoon in the opening night drive...
Dirg: ...with the real Ghostbuster. that cartoon was more shocking than any of Ralph Bakshi's obvious cartoons. also the cartoon in that weird house, that cartoon wasn't shocking, the shock was that Bart Simpson's voice came from that weird-looking girl!
Laertus: the thing that is truly scary forever and life everlasting about this film is the scariness of an unanticipated death. i mean let's just take a step back and realize the situation here: this poor veteran character actor and the even poorer Vietnamese kids who were just trying to make it in Hollywood to please their parents and get a little spending money for all their parents' sacrifice to get to this country, the long journey.
Eye: kid actors shoulder a particular profound pain inside them they will never share on social media.
Laertus: the actor is following this script where he's being taken on a train to a Nazi concentration camp, that is the last image he sees on Earth, that's Hell-on-Earth enough, then he really is in the afterlife, what is going on in his consciousness?
Dirg: i wouldn't be certain those two innocent souls would greet him where he went. he most-assuredly had some hidden skeletons in his closet, but i'm praying for his eternal soul all the same. karma can skip over accidents, you know.
Eye: the whole thing is stomach-churning and nightmarish. but not in the whimsical
Twilight Zone way, in the real horror-of-life-and-afterlife way. Landis is bound for Purgatory, we can all see.
Dirg: if there's one ray of light to come from this garish ghoulish ghastly tragedy, this did greenlight the '80s CBS
Twilight Zone series, which for my money is better than the original, fight me.
Laertus: *loud sigh* you don't have any money. and you never will. you will borrow from me forever. still, still, all these years later and for you it's still too soon.
Cotard continues their conversation with Velvetta in the morning velvet sky by the same Church bush just the two of them.
Cotard: i wish Goddess had made it so we could close our ears. you watched the tape?
Velvetta: every minute of it, sir. it was scary as you said, unsettling.
Cotard: right? there's me in my white robe, thinking i have my whole life planned out, it's all figured out, i give my body to celibacy and my spirit will be handsomely rewarded for it, and i make that creaky walk up the two marble steps in the carpet to the Temple altar, no music, just eerie silence as i procession. that Temple is a satanic temple, man. it's dark and gloomy and smoky without there being any incense urn. if you look up no light peeks through, it's a grey stained-glass triangle. a dark eye. from the outside the roof appears as a profound pretty petal of pointed flowers, but inside you see the true architecture: sharp blades, huge-hilted hitting carving knives to the heart. Hinata cannot protect you here. there i am, a freshfaced ingenue like i'm entering onto the set of my first Spielberg picture, but it's really my first porno. i have no idea what i'm doing with my life, but i don't betray these emotions to myself by showing my shiteating grin to the outside world inside. Codrus looks happily through my eyes into my long soul. he admonishes me for doubting and says i'm doing the right thing and laughs under his fetid breath. i don't believe him but i don't believe my hesitation, either, that must be the devil tempting me to sin and masturbate in my cell when i get back at night, i must resist Old Redtail!
Velvetta: i'm suddenly hungry for Red Lobster and i don't even know what that is. what does the Devil look like?
Cotard: good question. i see a mirror. scary, scary, that ceremony is scary, cos it's so permanent. there's no turning back after that ritual, you can't take your tunic off again! you think you're doing the right thing...after all those years of cramped study in a cell instead of going out to play...but what really is right and wrong? can you ask the butterfly who flies past you in the monastery orchard? it's all out there on display for the world to see! my Final Vows are posted on youtube! i don't get it, this is vital information! this is my truth! this is THE truth! there are no comments under it and hardly any views!
Velvetta: that's cos it's an unlisted video.
Cotard: blast! this is educating the public! anyway
Velvetta: yes, anyway. i understand where you're coming from now, Mr. Cotard. but what are we supposed to do now?
Cotard: FAKE IT! i hope that's something you learn about when you get older and utilize throughout your adult life. we'll just pretend we're master and acolyte and pretend to do what he says. kay? i'll get you through this, until you get me through this.
Codrus: come, brother, cease your dawdling. i have something to show you. i can still teach you things, i am the older bro after all.
Cotard: only by alternative math.
Codrus: come inside the Church and i'll show you how to enter the Temple. i'm sure you've long forgotten how with your painfully-obvious extensive travels to avoid me.
Sinphony: *sallow eyes* you're never gonna break me, brat! my lord is the true way.
Sinphony picks Velvetta up roughly by her shoulder and bruises it like fresh fruit.
Velvetta: you need to learn some spells to break you from the one you're under, girl. i don't care what you think of me, or that you do, by the end of this, i hope you DO beat me up! cos then and only then can i show you the way to save us both.
