Late night show

Late night show

The days seem to pile up ever more insults and in the famous words of the lunatic from The Network – ‘I am mad as hell and I can’t take this anymore’, although I probably would take it, for there is a way to vent and find revenge for the multiple demeaning, awful names that the spouse is calling me, from something like old fart – although that is contradicted because I am supposed to be sexually active (for five minutes she says) with all sorts of whores, which is not exactly the usual occupation of those who are passé and unworthy – to goddamn stupid, such as about one hour ago.

Yesterday there was a new zenith, or is it a nadir, for when I got home, I found that the kitchen has been cleaned and very little, if anything from my stuff – which granted, tended to clutter and occupy all available space – has been left in the open, prompting the question and fear, what will I do in the morning, if I am trying to find something, or perhaps worse, leave essential things home,  old fart that I would become – psychology studies have underlined time and again that if we are primed, conditioned, we tend to become influenced and project this new self…one study comes to mind, in which participants have been divided into two groups, in one, they addressed them with words that are related to old age, such as grey and Florida, and they found that this ‘old age related team’ took twice as long to return to the exit as the others who have heard no words connected with senectitude.

I protested yesterday and then took it further, after the usual you are no good, you do nothing, look at so many others, instead of making some money you are just a lazy fool or the equivalent, I took the opportunity, when there was a crisis with the Ocean fish tank, to come out and look at the immense mess and say something like ‘hey, but what about this nice calamity here?’ and that was like the straw that broke the camel’s back, for the echoes of that earthquake have been felt even today, when indeed, I rubbed some salt into the wound, reminding the aggressive alpha female about the catastrophe of the other day and this triggered yet a new explosion of damn you stupid, instead of supporting someone and showing consideration when they are down, you just go on with your own obsessions and etc.

Perhaps I should see now why writing is supposed to be good for describing crisis, and one reason is that writing uses another side of the brain and a different logic and therefore we tend to see some sense where otherwise there looks to be none, when engaged in a quarrel with the wife, for instance and yes, she may have a few points there, because she was really distressed and under the pressure of the moment, for it looked like the pump would give up – it would eventually, but she was smart and my bank account was even smarter, old useless fart that I am, and another pump was somewhere in the garage.

In the heat of the moment, she did something almost tragic, for she used some four (?) bottles of mineral water, to prevent the system from collapsing – we could smell burned plastic or rubber, albeit for a while it was hard to say from where, for at the same time, I was trying to start the fire in the fireplace and as this consort keeps stating, I use it as a sort of garbage dump, with paper, plasticized paper and all sorts in there, ready to kindle the fire for the logs, which I collected from the neighborhood, making the wife ashamed again and then the vicious circle of more labels – you fool, the garbage man, old people collect garbage, you are a disgrace and on and on.

Nevertheless, the mineral water added to that complicated mixture, which needs to have a fixed percent of salinity and whatever – that fucking dodo bird costs me a fortune there, for these damn fish – seemed to be killing the fish, for first the yellow tang, then the black and the stripped ones started gyrating, upside down and ready to meet their maker, for they presumably lacked oxygen and the carbonated water has added enough CO2 to make them helpless and the spouse agitated and saying ‘chi, chi, chi’, every other three minutes, for what seemed to be hours on end, until finally, after bumping their nose – the black one – into the corals or something else, they looked like their making sense again…

So today, when I returned, my favorites, the macaws – who can be as obnoxious as hell, that would be Balzac, who is shouting like crazy, even now, as I write in the ‘office’ and he is with Puccini in the living room, with their dear ‘mother’, who kicked the ‘blue one’ in the head, leaving an injury that looked quite dangerous, when the vile bird tried to take her eye out, apparently – in the past and the present when he fucks my brains out with his screaming, that can be heard like in the Amazonian jungle, for tens of miles, I run away after him with the broom and knock him down…

Anyway, when I referred to the superstitions that some people believe in, including the spouse who keeps exposing my rotten heritage – my mother had warned her that I am no good, philandering, useless, baseless and what not – and then quotes from the zodiac, which again proves what a rotten, devilish, idiotic, grumpy, low life, selfish, cheap bastard  I am and have always been, never done anything in my whole life, only got some money with the business partner who has provided the cash for ever and so there is nothing favorable to say about the ultimate loser.

If I generally avoid a full blown face off, with war on all levels, today I have been rather outraged of the series of insults and replied in kind, saying that she has never placed $ 1,000, 000 on the table to prove how fucking glorious she is and multiple times better than I am and she really jumps over the line when all she basically does is throw all the dirt in my face and if I am indeed the old fart in her story, perhaps she should stop and show some pity and give the guy a break and not step on him and spit in his face every goddamn day there is…