conrad, darling, do me a favor and draw the blinds, will you? i want to strip out of my eveningwear and i’d prefer not to have the neighbors gawking at me. and start a bath? with epsom salts? thank you. and whatever you do, don’t peek, you know how shy i am, conrad! now let me tell you about the gala tonight. it is going to be simply fantastic! edward has contracted a man from fifth street to carve an enormous ice sculpture of a swan, complete with a little funnel from the top of the sculpture to a hole at the swan’s bottom. you can pour your favorite liquor at the top and then drink it as it comes out of its little, hm, what is it called? cloaca! yes, oh my, it’s going to be great. susan has ordered truffles, all kind of truffles, with chocolate and caramel and vanilla filling. and i believe trevor contacted the caterers who are going to make little ham and cheese quiches! imagine, a tiny quiche! conrad can you imagine that? conrad what are you up to over there? don’t look! i’m barely in my negligee. conrad are you making a noose? am i *boring* you conrad, to the point of suicide? oh i’m so sorry, i’m sorry this gala is going to be enormous and wonderful that talking about it has made you want to hang yourself. please. is the bath drawn yet?
you know, you’re blaming dad for all of this like he was some atom bomb that blew up our family. and maybe he did, maybe he caused all of this chaos and disorder like a blustery tornado–i mean he did. he did do that. but see, life is never about action, it’s about reaction. it’s about how to you react to variables. his reaction to life and mom and kelly spencer and all that shit was to become this firestorm that set this house ablaze for twenty years, like an old pile of tires. his reaction becomes the action that you react to. do you understand? and your reaction is your life. how you react to things is your life. now, look at me. i’m only two years older than you, ted, and i lived through the maelstrom of this family too. and i used it. my reaction, my response, was to channel bullshit into something more productive. i took that energy and i–don’t roll your eyes at me, ted, you know i’m right–i took that energy and went to LA and look at me now. you, on the other hand, decided to react by becoming basically an inert version of dad, like this milquetoast alcoholic who can’t even be bothered to get out of bed in the morning. that was your decision, and you made it years ago. the shitty part is, even if this is real and there’s money in this house, it’s not gonna change what you’re going to do with it.
donald trump for fucking mayor of the universe! look you may not like his politics but you gotta admire the man for speaking his opinion, you know what i mean? that guy doesn’t give a shit what anybody thinks, he just speaks the truth. i love him so much i’m gonna gay marry him! yeah you heard me! i’m gonna gay marry him and take him back to my apartment in astoria and we’re gonna have the hottest gay man sex you’ve ever seen! i’m gonna gay sex him so hard actual gay men will start to wonder if they’re actually gay. and then when we’re done he and i are gonna take a vacation to the hamptons and watch squirrels from the comfort of our bed and breakfast’s back porch. i love trump so much. i love him so, so much. donald i love you and i want you to be president and i want you to gay marry me so i can wake up every morning and sew your hair back onto your head. you know, the way you like it. i want to lick the tip of your big huge dong until you spew gallons of cum all over my entire body, and then cocoon myself in that cum and emerge six weeks later as a brilliant gay butterfly. donald you have to become president, you just have to! i’ve never had an erection as hard or as big as when i think about you standing behind a podium with the emblem of the president of the united states on it, just looking so regal oh god it stirs a feeling inside of me i frankly didn’t know i had. i … i’m having trouble breathing. please call an ambulance, i think i’m having a heart attack.
my therapist recommended i take vitamin d to combat my depression. so naturally i bought the gummy kind, because god forbid i act like an adult and swallow a pill. i headed to fred meyer and they always have a “buy one get one” sale on vitamins and supplements, which leads me to believe that a plastic jug of vitamin d supplements is not actually fourteen bucks, but actually seven bucks. in truth i bet all supplements are made for pennies and marked up like crazy because people into holistic medicine are automatically suckers because they’ll believe anything from a website called “doctor mommys nutritional blessings.org.” in that regard i’m like, yeah, mark that shit up like crazy, if people are willing participants in your snake oil racket then you deserve to get all their money. when it comes to physical health, i believe in medicine. mental health … well that’s a little different. the body more or less we understand, but the mind … how can you really know the mind? but see we know vitamin d helps with depression. who the hell knows why, but it does. so i take it, in gummy form, like a goddamn child. fucking … everything’s made like we’re babies anymore. it’s humiliating. at least the gummies taste good though.
you know i’m never leaving this place, right? i’ve tried, i’ve tried to leave. every day is this constant struggle to get the courage to move, to put the bottle down. but i’m never leaving. this shithole is where i’ve gone to die. a better man would have come here when he was older, but not me. resigned at 30. so what does that make me in the end? did i live a good life? did i live a life as good as yours? i guess not. i guess i could have been a father, i suppose i should have traveled more. but i didn’t. i moved, once, and then moved back a year later because i couldn’t afford to drink and live in a big city. and i have to drink. so i just live in this podunk town and drink every day, and when i don’t drink i have these tremendous seizures, like god’s telling me my purpose in life is to get hammered all the time. it’s sad isn’t it? it’s a waste of a good man’s life. and yet, here i am, alive and drunk. and you’re in your billion dollar suits, flying to abu dhabi to fuck models or whatever it is you do in abu dhabi. congratulations. you’ve lived enough for both of us. you have the collective energy of mom and dad distilled into you like an aged whiskey, and i’m … i’m just drinking to catch up.
did you fart? i didn’t know you were capable of farting due to your different body makeup. maybe that’s just some kind of air excretion? it really smells like you farted. okay so we you know have digestive systems and we eat meat and plant matter, it gets digested in our gut, and then we poop it out. i realize that’s really strange to you, but the point is that sometimes the bacteria in our gut–yes we have little things in our body that help us digest things–the bacteria causes gas to build up in our gut and we fart it out. and if the bacteria is having a real go at it the gas can kind of stink. i only say all of this because i didn’t fart, and you’re the only other thing in this room, and i smelled something that smelled precisely like a fart, so the only perpetrator is you. so you have to tell me: did you fart? or was what something else that smelled really close to a fart? this could be really huge for xenobiologists, you know what i mean? really huge. bigger than the fact that i’m fucking an alien, yes! that is now secondary to the fact that you can fart and your farts smell like ours. i’m telling you this is huge. huge! now just hold on and let me get a jar. where do you fart from? these are important questions okay?!