Jak's relationship with DL revealed at last...
Bill Bonde
Lawrence Garvin wrote:
>
>
>
> Sorry folks, I'm so bloody long-winded I'll have to serialize this story.
> Tune in tomorrow for Act Two wherein Jacques and DL become
> blood brothers and tour the midwest by railcar (maybe)...
>
Is this really true?
Neutrodyne
>From: Bill Bonde std...@mail.com
>Date: 9/5/00 1:08 AM Central Daylight Time
>Message-id: <39B48DCE...@mail.com>
Realio Trulio! Cross my heart and hope to spit! I saw them camping near the
Kankakee, Beaverville & Southern tracks just two parallel Universes over from
ours. They were roasting a kosher rabbit.
Neutrodyne
Lawrence Garvin
Bill Bonde <std...@mail.com> wrote in message news:39B48DCE...@mail.com...
I approve of skepticism as a general rule, but how did you ever get so
cynical?
This is the story I heard from a drunk cop I met last Thursday. You know
how people are; he probably did add a few dramatic flourishes but I believe
the essential details to be true. They say that truth is stranger than fiction and
well... they say a lot of things, don't they. Suffice it to say that I believe it is
true and I leave your beliefs up to you.
And now, back to our story...
Young Jacques quickly settled into his new life at Casa DL, it was an
exciting and rewarding time and Jacques and Laura quickly became the
best of friends. Because the name "Jacques" induced the gag-reflex in
DL and because the gag-reflex was already overused, Jacques' name
was anglicized into Jack which the poor, barely-literate lad rendered as
"Jak". DL lavished attention on her new buddy in a manner that would
shame a lesser moral light. She hired speech pathologists, tutors, coaches,
trainers, doctors, dentists, podiatrists and chiropractors to turn young
Jack into a fine specimen of a man. The results were mixed. Despite the
best efforts of the finest talent money could buy Jak's Tourette's syndrome
returned with his ability to speak. After months of fruitless effort DL decided
to recast Tourette's syndrome as a sign of virtue and took up Jak's habit
of spewing "slut, shit, puke, whore and bitch" as a sympathetic response.
Lew and Deryk accepted Jack's prominent role in DL's affections with
a mixture of alarm and relief. Poor Lew was quite alarmed at the
unusually intimate nature of Jack and DL's friendship and was actually
plotting an "accident" when he discovered that Jack was completely
asexual. More properly, he was a psychologically impotent voyeur
who could only gain sexual stimulation from the sight of young breasts
glimpsed in smoky barrooms while Jack pounded on a large synthetic
organ. Due to the fact that DL's breasts were long past their prime, looking
like nothing so much as a matched set of leather change purses, and
because there was absolutely "NO SMOKING" on the compound, Lew
was satisfied that Jack presented no threat to his gravy train. Jack was
actually living in the pool house for 3 months before he even met Deryk
and had actually called security to report a trespasser when DL intervened
laughing, "that's my bunchkin, I am his Mom." DL explained that Deryk
was in fact the most important thing in her life between 5:05 and 5:08 a.m.
each morning that he wasn't away and they all had a hearty laugh at the
misunderstanding.
Jack's life was idyllic during this time, he bouffed Laura's hair three times
a day and spent the rest of his waking hours listening to Laura talk about
her thoughts and deeds. Now this is thing that really separated Jack from
the other lackeys and sycophants in DL's entourage... not only was he an
outstanding bouffter he was endlessly fascinated by DL's views on any
and all subjects. He wasn't just faking it either, he thought she was the most
intelligent, virtuous and entertaining woman on the face of the earth. And she
thought he was a good listener. It was a match made in heaven.
When they make a movie out of this story this will be the part where Jak
and DL are shown riding the rails, flying kites, grooming stray dogs, walking
and talking, fishing and laughing, binging and purging, bouffing, bouffing and
bouffing some more... all shot in gauzy soft light with syrupy string music that
will bring a tear to the eye of every morally upright soul in America.
Young Jak was happier than he had ever dared to imagine, he had his own
room in the big house now, the best combs, brushes, picks and accoutrements
that any boufter could want and the company of the most fascinating woman
in the world for hours and hours every single day. Sure there were blemishes
in his perfect world, sometimes his dear friend would become enraged at some
slight from the liberal media and Jak shared her outrage. Nasty, jealous people
made cutting remarks about DL in the media and on the internet and Jak was
livid that these worthless "turds" would dare to besmirch his beloved DL. But,
all in all, it was easy to overlook these mudslingers because living well truly is
the best revenge and Jak and DL were living very, very well...
I wish that our story ended here, I do have work to do, you know...
But there is much more to tell and not much of it pleasant. In our
next episode; cruel fate intervenes and casts our buddies into a
terrible moral adventure...
Tune in tomorrow; tears, accusations, betrayal and passion!
All these words (and many more) will be used.
Lawrence
Brothe...@webtv.net
>Realio Trulio! Cross my heart and hope to spit! I
>saw them camping near the Kankakee,
>Beaverville & Southern tracks just two parallel
>Universes over from ours. They were roasting a
>kosher rabbit.
Don`t even ask where the gravy came from.
Brother "A Different Kind Of Rendering" Enigma
Jakthehmmr
>Neut wrote DL and jak`s "involvment":
>
>>Realio Trulio! Cross my heart and hope to spit! I
>>saw them camping near the Kankakee,
>>Beaverville & Southern tracks just two parallel
>>Universes over from ours. They were roasting a
>>kosher rabbit.
>
>Don`t even ask where the gravy came from.
Whatever you people have been smoking lately. I WANT SOME OF IT!...........
Lawrence Garvin
Lawrence Garvin <lga...@sprint.ca> wrote in message news:...
>
>
> Tune in tomorrow; tears, accusations, betrayal and passion!
> All these words (and many more) will be used.
Okay here we are, a little late but still on time.
When last we left our happy crew they were basking in the warm
glow of mutual admiration and wholesome affection, secure in the
knowledge that they were making all the payments both secular and
sublime. This is the point when my buddy the cop (remember him?)
ordered a double and hunkered down on his bar stool like a man
about to confess his darkest fears. "Why the fricking drama?" I wondered,
but I was soon to find out...
Something happened to Jak when the photos were released. You know the
photos, the ones that Bill Ballance released, well, apparently those photos
were like a nuclear explosion for Jak. At first he was just as skeptical and
unconcerned as any normal person would be... DL denied that she had ever
posed for nude photos and Jak was relieved and satisfied that this was just
another jealous loser's ploy to try to detract from the shining light that was
DL. At this point my cop buddy started rambling a bit, he kept referring to
psychological profiles and forensic shrinks and a lot of psychobabble about
repressed sexuality and misdirected rage, yadda yadda yadda. He was drunk
and so was I and all that stuff just makes my eyes glaze over at the best of
times. Anyway, as near as I can tell, Jak had fixated on DL as the antithesis
of all the depraved filth that he had known as a child. He hated his mother and
he had latched onto DL like an orphaned chick imprinting on a steam shovel.
He saw her as the anti-Mom. Where his mother was passionate, greasy and
sexually ambitious, DL was clean, cruel and sexless.
Imagine his torment over the next few days; DL assured him that these photos
were a cruel hoax but at the same time she was plotting and scheming with a
troop of lawyers at all hours of the day and night. " It's just legal mumbo jumbo,
Jak honey." said DL and Jak did his best to accept that. But he missed the
joyous gloating that had been so much a part of his days previously. Where
formerly he had spent hours teasing her hair while DL regaled him with every
petty and vindictive thought that crossed her mind, now she was pre-occupied
and short-tempered even with him. The day she came home in a fury to say that
the photos were being released she made Jak and Lew swear to never look for
them on that evil, evil Internet. Jak promised to never look for them and Lew
just shrugged. DL had all the computers removed from the house within the hour
and then she went into seclusion for six days. Poor Jak was lost, he was like a
drowning man in the desert with no hair to bouff and no one to tell his troubles
to. He scratched at the door to DL's private sanctum with his brushes and combs
desperate for a reassuring word or a quick bit of teasing but DL turned him away
with a shout and a curse. Jak wandered the neighbourhood in abject misery, he
kidnapped a few dogs to groom but even that could not distract him from his utter
despair. Finally, reluctantly, filled with self-loathing, Jak went to the library.
He was a man torn by passions he could scarcely understand. He was about
to break the only real promise he had ever made. He was filled with anger and
fear and resentment. " How could she turn her back on me when I need her the
most?" he fumed as he took a seat at the public access terminal. His hands shook
as he typed in the first words he had ever typed - 'Dr. Laura & Pictures' - he
mouthed a silent prayer before hitting enter. Imagine the dread he felt as that
first hit came up on the screen - Clublove- Dr. Laura NUDE - Pamela Anderson
& Tommy Lee Sex Video - SMUT SMUT SMUT XXX XXX XXX XXX XX
Steeling himself for the worst he pointed and clicked not daring to look, when he
finally peeked through his fingers he saw no smut, no naked writhing bodies, not
even dirty words.. just a screen asking for his adultchek ID. Damnation and
blasphemy! Was this some cruel prank played by a sadistic maker? What the
hell is an adultchek ID? Scanning quickly through the text he discovered that he
needed a bloody credit-card number to access the photos. He pounded his fists
and his feet and even his head against the public-service terminal, he cursed and
spit and howled with rage... he had no credit card Goddamnit and no means of
getting one. His rage was enormous and unwieldy and growing like a rapid cancer.
Damn that cruel-hearted DL who had driven him to this madness with her selfish
indifference. She would pay...
He sulked from the library and, using a strange loping half-run, half crawl, he slunk
back to the DL residence with murder in his heart and a strange raw joy in his
head. He broke in the basement window though the back door stood open and
he oozed into the kitchen like a larcenous fog and rifled through DL's purse for
the Gold American Express he had seen her use down at the Glut n' Gorge Cafe.
And back he went to the library... This time they saw him coming and they locked
the doors. Oh! the injustice! Jak was fairly humming with a homicidal buzz...
" She made me like this... She made me like this..." over and over like a song
he sang the words as he loped off to the next branch....
"Play it cool, Jacques old boy." He whispered to himself as he sauntered through
the doors of the public library and made his way to the computer terminals.
Whistling softly he repeated his actions of an hour before and soon stood again
at the head of the cliff that was "DL Nude". This time he wasted no time on
doubts and regrets he accessed the pictures as fast as his two-fingers could
pound out the digits and when he saw the first photo he was crushed and released
simultaneously. What tits!!! They were perfect, pert and plumb and full of life!
and ohh that smile... there was no doubt this was the duplicitous whore who had
played him for a fool. He clicked through each photo with a quickening madness
and when he hit upon the infamous crotch shot the least shred of sanity left him.
What a glorious, incredible, wealth of naturally bouffy hair... It was the holy grail,
the Magna Carta, the lost city of Atlantis and a dirty picture all rolled into one.
He reeled and rocked like a man in a storm... Tears and laughter and lipnoises
escaped him in a raucous parade. He giggled and squealed and hiccupped and
wailed and then his mind snapped like a crisp, new soda cracker.
----------------
That's enough for today....
more of the same tomorrow
Lawrence
Lawrence Garvin
Lawrence Garvin <lga...@sprint.ca> wrote in message news:pjXt5.4237$Ld.8...@newscontent-01.sprint.ca...
>
> Lawrence Garvin <lga...@sprint.ca> wrote in message news:...
> >
> >
> > Tune in tomorrow; tears, accusations, betrayal and passion!
> > All these words (and many more) will be used.
>
> Okay here we are, a little late but still on time.
<snip part three>
You know what? I forgot to use 'betrayal' and 'accusations' as
promised. I hope no-one was badly disappointed. As a token
of my good faith, I will tell you a little more of the story.
Okay, so Jak's gone right off his rocker. He's filled with rage at
the betrayal (that was pretty quick, eh?) but he's also filled with
a new feeling of lust and power. DL is not just a beacon of virtue
anymore, she's a sexual object to him now and thus a threat to his
prehensile libido. He loves her and he hates her...
Well, the long and the short of it is... Jak went back to DL and
confronted her with his discovery. He screwed up all the courage
and bitterness he had and he spit out his accusation (that's two) that
very evening when she finally emerged from her sanctuary. Well,
thundering Jesus, that was a mistake. DL absolutely flew into a rage
screaming and crying and flopping around like a carp. HOW DARE
HE BETRAY HER LIKE THIS?!?!?!? OUT OUT OUT OUT OUT!!!
She screamed and she squealed like a slaughterhouse on fire and she
banished poor Jak from the only home he had ever loved. 20 minutes from
luxury to skid row and that's all she wrote. Jak was sitting on the curb
crying when a large sack of garbage hit him in the back... It was his
hairdressing tools in a Gucci sack... "Take your junk, you pathetic
bouffter," said Lew as he kicked poor Jak in the ribs... "You've got
3 minutes to be out of sight or I'll phone you in as a vagrant."
So poor broken Jak shuffled off like a man resigned to his fate...
But that was only a ruse. While playing the miserable and pathetic
loser, our Jak was formulating a plan... A piece of vengeance so
twisted and cruel that Hannibal Lector would puke. He shuffled
of like a broken man but inside he was soaring with bloodlust and
pure rage, stronger than pure speed and cleaner than dice. Enough
with the flowery language, he was going to kill her... murder and
mayhem and nasty bloody bashing is what he had in mind.
He rented a hovel with a view and started plotting... He wasn't very
smart so it didn't take long. He sharpened up all his hairdressing tools
and modified that ones that weren't sharp by design into sharp things
or blunt things as the case may be... He stopped at the kitchen supply
store and picked up three dozen metal skewers, he stopped by the
farm supply store and picked up a pitchfork and a pickax and half a
truckload of other pointy implements that I can not name. He bought
an icepick at one store and then he bought the actual icepick from that
movie with Sharon Stone on E-bay. He tried to return the first icepick
but he had lost the receipt in his insane frenzy of buying stuff. Then he
took everything back to the hovel and he sharpened stuff for two days.
On the third day he packed all his hairdressing implements and three
dozen of his favorite pointy weapons into the Gucci bag (and a golf
cart) and set off to kill DL. He had just managed to scale the outer
gate when he discovered that DL was the kinda girl that planned ahead.
In the few days that he had been gone she had filled the grounds with
mean, vicious hungry guard dogs and poor Jak was in the juice right
quickly. Lucky for him he had brought a ridiculous number of weapons
and he quickly set about killing the guard dogs with a cold, methodical
technique that send chills down the spine of DL as she stood watching
behind the curtains. ' CALL THE FU*KING COPS, LEW!!!', she
screamed as she watched Jak kill _and coif_ each dog in turn. "Holy
Moses, he'll be done in 3 to 5 minutes" she thought as she watched.
Jack work with the efficiency and grace that had been his trademark in
those days when he had buffed her own hair.
Luckily for DL, there was always a goodly contingent of armed and
vicious police officers in her neigbourhood and this is the point when
my friend the cop arrived on the scene with a dozen of his buddies.
" I've seen some godawful things in my time," he told me, " but that
was the sickest goddamn scene I ever did see. This poor crazed
bastard surrounded by dead dogs doing their goddamned hair!!!"
" When we drew down on him he dropped his brushes and picks
immediately and a damn good thing for him too... I wasn't the only
guy there who was itching to blow the bastards head off. I had a dog
at home, you know?" The cop was clutching my arm and tears were
flowing down his cheeks unnoticed. " This son-of-bitch started blathering
on about how he lived there and these dogs had just gone nuts...
self-defense... blah, blah, blah... he was Dr. Schlessinger's personal
attendant and please check with the Dr. and we'll get this all straightened
out... Well we all sorta calmed down, my buddy was going through his
bag and most of the stuff did seem to be brushes and combs and hair
picks and such... and the Dr. lady was coming across the lawn screaming
at him like she knew him so we sorta let our guards down a bit, I guess.
One of the guys was looking around the scene and he found something
behind a tree... "what's this golf cart doing here?" he asks the perp...
"oh, just some more hairdressing stuff" he says, cool like, you know?
So I just turned my head, I still had a hold of him, you know? and the
little fucker slips outta my hand and dives at the Dr. and he's swinging
this little _hairpick_ you know? Like he's gonna tear out her throat with
it... and he damn near got her... Well then we come down on him like a
ton of bricks and let me tell you this asshole ain't cool like anymore, he's
crazy as a loon and fighting like a small gang... swinging and swearing
and screaming at the top of his lungs... over and over... the same damn
thing... and I'm getting chills just telling this story to you...
over and over at the top of his lungs... I'M A HAIRDRESSER!!!
I'M A HAIRDRESSER!!!
I'M A HAIRDRESSER!!!
I'M A HAIRDRESSER!!!
I'M A HAIRDRESSER!!!
I'M A HAIRDRESSER!!!
At this point the cop is standing - pounding on the bar and
screaming out each line while engaged in a fierce struggle with
a ghost... the bar has gone deathly silent and the bartender is
reaching for the phone...
"Easy, easy... " I'm cooing to this guy like I was talking to a
frightened horse...
"So I asked him," says the cop " what about the weapons?"
"And you know what the sick bastard said?"
" THEY'RE LOOKALIKE PICKS FOR ALL DIFFERENT CURLS!!!"
.
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Jakthehmmr
JEEESUS, Larry.........Gimme some of what you're smoking........
Bushman
Bushman
speechless
Lawrence Garvin <lga...@sprint.ca> wrote in message
news:kPYt5.4326$Ld.9...@newscontent-01.sprint.ca...
Lawrence Garvin
Jakthehmmr <jakth...@aol.com> wrote in message news:20000908043926...@ng-cp1.aol.com...
> "Lawrence Garvin" lga...@sprint.ca wrote:
>
> JEEESUS, Larry.........Gimme some of what you're smoking........
I'm glad you liked it, Jak. I was starting to worry that you might
decide to sue me or something...
Lawrence
not that I'm admitting guilt or anything...
Lawrence Garvin
Bushman <jiml...@compuservenospam.com> wrote in message news:8pad9r$h8o$1...@sshuraac-i-1.production.compuserve.com...
> POSTING ON TOP!
>
>
>
> Bushman
> speechless
Have I destroyed the language for you?
Lawrence
cmart...@my-deja.com
"Lawrence Garvin" <lga...@sprint.ca> wrote:
>
> Lawrence Garvin <lga...@sprint.ca> wrote in message news:...
> >
> >
>
> He giggled and squealed and hiccupped and
> wailed and then his mind snapped like a crisp, new soda cracker.
>
>
You will be doing the world a disservice if you fail to enter that Bad
Hemingway writing contest they do down in Key West, Lawrence.
--
Claire
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
Lawrence Garvin
<cmart...@my-deja.com> wrote in message news:8pb4vh$25p$1...@nnrp1.deja.com...
> In article <pjXt5.4237$Ld.8...@newscontent-01.sprint.ca>,
> "Lawrence Garvin" <lga...@sprint.ca> wrote:
> >
> > Lawrence Garvin <lga...@sprint.ca> wrote in message news:...
> > >
> > >
> > > > Okay here we are, a little late but still on time.
> >
> (snip most of LG's engaging novella)
>
> > He giggled and squealed and hiccupped and
> > wailed and then his mind snapped like a crisp, new soda cracker.
> >
> >
>
> You will be doing the world a disservice if you fail to enter that Bad
> Hemingway writing contest they do down in Key West, Lawrence.
LOL Thanks Claire,
I set my sights low and I revel in the accomplishment when I manage
to illicit a groan. Actually, I was going for the world's record for the
longest set-up/least pay-off category of the 'Lookalike Fake' competition.
Lawrence
plus I just like that shit...
Maddi Hausmann Sojourner
Lawrence, you are one sick, twisted individual. And I say this
with all the love and admiration I can possibly provide. Well done!
trdm
Totally blown out of the water by Lawrence
--
Maddi Hausmann Sojourner mad...@alumni.princeton.edu
Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and
the reader who doesn't get it.
Lawrence Garvin
Maddi Hausmann Sojourner <mad...@alumni.princeton.edu> wrote in message news:39B95AB7...@alumni.princeton.edu...
> Posting on Top!
>
> Lawrence, you are one sick, twisted individual. And I say this
> with all the love and admiration I can possibly provide. Well done!
>
> trdm
> Totally blown out of the water by Lawrence
>
Well thanks very much, Maddi. I mean that from the bottom
of my sick, twisted little heart.
Lawrence
Thinks Maddi is just peachy and doesn't care who knows it...
Neutrodyne
Thank you Lawrence. My hat is off to you. By the way, that drunk cop
wasn't named Kelton, was he?
Neutrodyne
Bushman
No, it was just like waking up and realizing you are the proud new owner of
a bridge.
Bushman
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