...on the heartland

so the bastard's ladyfriend is out in iowa (pronounced ah-o-ah) this week on assignment.

it seems that her company is kind of like mine insomuch as they feel it's cheaper to do it by the home office.

in the bastard's case, the home office is actually stockholm but, our head vampire is from florida so everything is cheaper in florida...maybe but, probably not.

anyway, the bastard's ladyfriend am in iowa and this is the majestic beauty she has come across. and that beauty is the git-n-go. it's no wawa mart. mostly because it's the git-n-go. could any hell be more real or now.

—the bastard

...on shopping

what else ya gonna do when your saturday's already been shot to hell?


her: excuse me, do you know what's the price of these?

me: well THIS thing is $3.49.

her: i mean which is the better bargain?

me: well, i was going to get this but i bought a three pack of this in trader joe's 3 weeks ago and it was like 50 cents cheaper.

her: i'm sorry, do you work here?

me: nah i'm just some guy in an ugly t-shirt.

what were you expecting? high drama from the fucking target store? it's not like i was invited out for anything.

—the bastard

you know...

have you ever had one of those days where you wonder why the hell you're sitting at your desk?

yeah, me too.

i mean the staff isn't here. i've assigned all of my work for the moment.

illos for two features.

photos are taken care of.

i just can't get out of the chair of my own power now.

i gotta get outta here.

—the bastard

remiss

sorry kids.

the bastard has been remiss in his duties (heh heh...doody).

i spent this week putting together my feature well.

what's a feature well?

well young shiteyes, let me tell you what a feature well is. you see, a feature well is that really nice looking section of the magazine that you breeze past all of the shitty looking parts with the words on them. it's kind of like the sears roebuck catalog but, with guns.

then again, i think sears roebuck used to sell guns too. and motorcycles. but that was a simpler time. but i digress,

i was working on the well. and the bastard likes it to look good. and i also have a ton of the devils work to do as part of my stay out of a refrigerator box program which works in tandem with the bastard's not dying program. here's to hoping they work.

—the bastard

...on retiring

...not me, some other guy


ah got it!

ah got tha winnin' tickut.

ahm retirin'

thas me.

ahm retiring raht now.

here's the ticket.

the bastard collects his dry goods in the narrow store and tries to make his way past this "rich guy"

the asian proprietor eyes the bastard suspiciously, like i just got one over on him. i suppose he does that to everyone.

he kind of looks like the kind of guy who got lucky and instead of living in a cardboard box under a bridge in the shibuya district (you should really read all idoru and all tomorrow's parties by gibson. which reminds the bastard, i need to finish virtual light one of these days), he ended up running a yellow windowed smoke shop/convenient store on 33rd street. his nails are like wooden claws and like i said, he looks like he's suspicious of being found out for whatever it is he's really doing there.

cha ching.

click click.

cha ching.

"three dollar sir."

"ah'll take it here. ahm retiring."

i turn to the man and smile and say, "three bucks? hell pal, you must have some low standard of living"

the store erupts with laughter. the bastard walks out. fade to street. roll credits.

—the bastard