All Fucked Up
Character Analysis: The Seven Year Bitch
She first paraded her fat ass into California from \"back
(Denver, actually...but when you're a kid living on the west coast of
the western world, everywhere else is \"back east\"), the
fucked up born-again Christian whose previous gang life was evident
in the tattoos scattered across his hairy arms. She was slightly out
of reach, the minister's only daughter. Sometimes I think she
fucked my brother just to piss off her father. But why the
fuck did Derekk ever sleep w/that bitch (for lack of a more
degradingly suitable word) of all people?? Plastered that
Anyway, she called today and much to my
asked to talk to me. The first words that came out of her
flaccid mouth were, “Hey, I’ll probably be graduating from
college before you do!” Hmmm, interesting comment, I thought,
especially considering that they’ve come from a 27 year old
who never completed high school in the first place. “Uhh...” I
answered, “And your point is....??” She had none, except for trying
to belittle me for her own twisted conveniance...just to try to puff
herself up a bit. And who said I was even going to attend college?
Hell..I’m not one for allowing schooling to get in the way of my
Her name is Lydia, or “Lid” as my brother calls her. I
say that someone ought to pop a lid on her wide mouth. She
came to California unnanounced and unplanned for, like some
scary over-zealous guest whom you soon find is sleeping
w/you-- and that’s exactly what she did to Derekk, my
brother....and his buddy down the street..and then some.
The poor dude can't stand her and is only w/her because of my nephew,
Jay-R. He is the most wickedly bright child I have ever met, as well
as the cutest-- golden hair, big dark gloomy eyes that tell of
childhood sorrow and a tan from hitting the waves since age three
Sometimes I feel so guilty when I think of Jay-R...as though..I don't
know....but I wish I could kidnap him so we could live eternally
together by the sea where we'd build mile high sand castles, live off
Coca-Cola and Ghiridelli Bars and visit LACMA on the weekends where
we'd stop by William Burroughs' exhibit of paintings which were
created by shooting paint from a pistol...all the while I'd be
explaining to him w/precise care what a great writer Burroughs was
"Auntie,\\\" he'd say in his lovely little madman
\\\"But he painted also? Do you want me to be a writer or
painter like him?
"Anything, anything at all, Jay-R. You see, in life your
job is to be an observer...taking mental notes of everything that you
see. Then, you must choose your battle\\\"
"What battle, auntie?"
"Any battle...the one YOU believe in. But until you do, your
existence is insignificant, you see. You've got to make a
contribution to the fight\\\"
"I can't tell you that, Jay-R; you have to find out on your
But w/that bright mind of your's, you can do whatever you
desire...and I know you will. But as for me...you see, I'm not as
bright as you are, kid. I'm just a writer...nothing more, nothing
less...and us writers are damned, insignificant blemishes on
Back to Lid-- Gawd, just thinking of her makes me want to
hurl all over the keyboard. While she was in California (they now
reside in Denver), all that she would do was sit on her fat ass and
watch, of all things, MTV and argue w/my little sister about boy
bands-- of which even my little sister had no interest in.
Ahhh...and she thinks that she is God's gift to men. Once
in Santa Monica, I ran into Everclear's frontman, Art
Alexakis, who happens to be a friend of mine. Since then
she's been telling everyone, \\\"I swear-- he gave me the
He was eight feet away from her, for Chrissakes!!
Anyway...all this recollecting about her is making me
sick, so this shall be the last paragraph. But before I end
this, let me first say that if I ever do hitchhike to
Denver, I will personally do away w/Lid myself, even though I've
had the ABSOLUTE pleasure of knowing this auspicious
for the past seven years.
If I have made any grammatical errors in the course of this rambling,
please tell me so I can properly punish myself
"We can live beside the ocean...leave the fire behind...swim out
past the breakers...watch the world die"-- Art Alexakis, Santa Monica
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