November 11, 2015 by Renee
This isn’t a real blog post. I’m not relaying any useful knowledge, nor am I offering anything entertaining. I’m going to annoy you, because this post is all about the gloating.
On November 9th, this girl reached 50,000 words in her NaNoWriMo project.
I know, right? I’m awesome.
So I’m just gonna gloat a little, because HOLY FUCK! Seriously.
Oh, I see you there with your scowly face. I know, it’s rude to brag and all that, because we’re supposed to be humble and shit. Well, I’m enjoying this while it lasts. This industry is fucking depressing most of the time, so…
Okay, I’m done. Shall I share an excerpt? Maybe once you see how shit-tastic it is, because this bitch needs some serious editing, you’ll hate me a little less. So here it is, a little bit of WHACKADOODLE. I’ll give you a little setup for this one. Homicide detective, Milo Smalls has been ordered by his boss to participate in a 30 day treatment program to curb some of his compulsions. As part of the program, Milo has to attend weekly group therapy meetings, which take place at the doctor’s house.
Oh, and the members of this group keep dying in weird, random ways.
And now, the excerpt:
“Charlie got his dick stuck in the drain pipe again.” Estella’s grand entrance was not what Milo would’ve expected. Ever.
“The drain pipe?” he asked.
“Yeah, he really likes that thing. Dick-fucker.” Ozzie said.
Milo had no reply. Yesterday the group had taken a break. They’d met tonight and Rochelle informed everyone that Estella and Charlie were making dinner. Milo didn’t plan to eat said dinner, because Charlie’s obsession with his dick didn’t fill Milo with a whole lot of trust. He had a hard enough time eating food prepared by others. He definitely wasn’t eating something made by someone how frequently rubbed his balls and then sniffed his fingers.
“So, where is this drain pipe and why is it Charlie’s favorite?” Milo finally asked.
Rochelle sighed. “There’s an old drain pipe in the kitchen next to the stove. I keep meaning to put a cap on it, but only remember when Charlie does things like this. We’ve had two months incident free. I kind of hoped we were past the drain pipe thing.”
“He’s put his dick in your pipe before?” The whole group was a shit show. Milo wished he could record half the conversations that took place during their sessions. Then Captain Cunt would see what he was talking about. Too bad Rochelle confiscated everyone’s phones before she let them in the living room.
“He’s put his dick in almost every hole in this house.” Nina said.
“Including yours.” Estella sniffed.
“Sounds like it.”
“Because I want his nasty, dirty penis inside me after you’ve cried all over it?”
Nina laughed. “You had it in you before I had it in me.”
Fuck. They were like a big incestuous family. “Glad to know where Charlie’s dick has been. I swear, I’m amazed it’s still attached to his body.”
“Almost ripped it off once.” Nina said.
“Yeah, the disposal incident.” Buggy added. “Epic.”
Milo felt nauseous, and for some reason, his dick hurt.
“That was after he fucked Nina the crybaby,” Estella said. “Probably wanted to erase the evidence.”
“You’re a cunt.” Nina spat.
“You’re a whore. And what?”
“Enough ladies,” Rochelle massaged her temples. “Ozzie and Milo, would you go help Charlie?”
“Um… how about no.” Milo said. “I don’t do dicks in pipes. I don’t do dicks at all.”
“You don’t have to touch it,” Rochelle said. “Ozzie has done this before. You pull Charlie out after Ozzie oils him up.”
“I’ll go,” Andy said.
Rochelle sighed. “Fine.”
Milo watched Ozzie and Andy leave the room, and then eyed Rochelle. “So, we’re going to pretend like Andy is still whispering, or are you going to explain his new-found voice to the rest of the class.”
“His date with Bernadette went well. He’s found a new lease on life.”
“Really?” Milo stared at the empty space where Ozzie and Andy had been. “So one good lay and he’s fixed?”
“No,” Rochelle glared. “They talked, he found someone he could trust, and that was a big part of Andy’s problem. He came to me the next day and said he no longer felt the need to whisper. Even if his relationship with Bernadette doesn’t pan out, I feel like the experience will be a positive one.”
“Okay,” Milo leaned back in his chair. “Let’s say I believe this fiction you’re weaving. And how does Bernadette feel about Andy?”
Rochelle sighed. “Well she hasn’t returned his calls. I’m sure she’s just busy, and as long as Andy’s happy, I don’t care. Can we move on?”
“Sure.” Milo examined his hands. “Is Estella finally cured too?”
“What do you mean?”
He wriggled his fingers.
“God,” Estella groaned. “Mittens.”
“No, Estella.” Rochelle said. “Maybe it’s time you learn to look at fingers.”
“If you don’t start at least trying to overcome your fears, you’ll have to commit yourself like we talked about. Clear?”
Estella nodded, her eyes closed. “Maybe we could do this more slowly, like a few seconds at a time. Milo has ridiculously long fingers. I can’t stand it.”
“Is that a problem?” Milo asked.
“She hates long fingers the most.” Nina explained.
“I don’t think my fingers are too long.” Milo examined his hand. “They’re pretty average sized. Besides, you seemed to like them just fine when—”
Rochelle’s stare stopped Milo mid-sentence.
“When…” he cleared his throat. “Every other time you’ve seen them.”
“Stop.” Estella cried. “Please.”
“Sorry.” Milo put his hands in his lap.
“I love long fingers.” Nina said.
“I bet you do, psycho.” Milo wasn’t going to encourage the nympho. He didn’t need that kind of complication in his life.
“Okay,” Rochelle stood. “The truth is, Estella, someone has taken the mittens. We don’t have a single one in the house.”
“Nina?” Milo said.
“What?” she winked.
“Did you take the mittens?” This place felt like a kindergarten classroom. Milo couldn’t wait for his time to be done so he could get as far away from this insanity as possible.
“Maybe I did.” Nina uncrossed her legs, opening her thighs wide enough for Milo to see that she wasn’t wearing any panties. “Wanna frisk me?”
“You didn’t put all the mittens in your snatch, did you?”
“Milo!” Rochelle gasped.
“What? She’s showing me her vagina and I’m not supposed to wonder? By the way, you should wax. Do you have any idea what lurks in all that hair?”
“Why don’t you stick a long finger in there and find out?” Nina opened her legs wider.
“For the love of God,” Milo said. “You need to get a handle on your freak show, Rochelle. It’s getting out of control.”
“Nina,” Rochelle said. “Did you take the mittens?”
“I know you didn’t put all of them in your vagina. Where are they?”
“I didn’t put any of them in there. I’m not stupid.”
“So, where are they?”
“I don’t remember.”
“She does so.” Estella’s eyes were still closed.
“I don’t.” Nina insisted. “When I hoard, everything goes blurry, and I don’t remember what it is I’ve done or where I’ve put things until I find them again.”
“I don’t know why you’d hide them in the first place,” Estella said.
“Because you need to deal with your shit, Stella.” Nina replied. “I mean, seriously. Of all of us, your issues are the worst. You bit off your own fingers, and let’s not forget what you did to Sha—”
“Enough, Nina.” Rochelle said.
Milo knew she was about to say Shamus. He kept his thoughts to himself and waited to see how this all played out.
“What?” Nina pouted. “She did… do that thing and he was just lucky the doctors could fix it. It’s time you made her take a test too. We all had to do it.”
“I think this is enough of a test.” Rochelle said.
“Yeah, I have had to sit in here with your fingers all around me forever. Can you please tell us where you hid them?” Estella’s eyes remained closed.
Milo was fascinated by her ridiculousness. Imagine, being afraid of fingers. Now gingers were one thing. Those fuckers were creepy. Fingers were just, fingers.
“I don’t remember what I did with them.” Nina said.
“I have to go home.” Estella stood, still blinding herself to the room. “Please take me home Rochelle.”
“No one’s going home. Milo, sit on your hands. You too, Nina.” Rochelle did the same. “Now, Estella, open your eyes.”
Estella opened one eye. When she saw that all three had hidden their fingers, she relaxed. “Thank you.”
“Now, we’re going to discuss Milo tonight.”
“You’re only here for a few weeks. I think it’s important we address one of your issues before you go back to work.”
“Your fear of cats.”
Milo snorted. “I think not.”
“I could tell your boss you need more time.”
Rochelle smiled. “You’ll thank me later, Milo. Once Charlie and the oth—”
Rochelle’s words were drowned out by the sound of Charlie screaming.
… Ahh. I love this story.
Okay, done gloating. Back to writing.