Just Off Center

In times of confusion I like to turn to the wisdom of The Byrds' "Turn Turn Turn". Sure the lyrics are taken from a book of the Bible, but we can't hold that against them. To everything there is a season. A time to be born. A time to die. A time to plant. A time to tell that psychotic cunt across the street who never stops talking and asking for your help to take care of her own shriveled ass before you take a machete to her Shar-Pei looking face.

Nina called me this morning all upset because Lynn needs her help again. Nina is losing it. She's extremely upset. And when Nina's upset she can't relax. If she can't relax we can't have fun. If we can't have fun I don't get laid. And when I don't get laid people are going to be held fucking responsible, goddamnit! For those of you who don't pay attention, I'll give the background. Lynn is our neighbor across the street. She is a sixtyish retired military officer's wife with absolutely no touch on reality. She believes she's an artist, which is a good thing because she's paying Nina to babysit her "art" at this art show that goes on all of October. She hasn't really sold anything. And the only reason anyone would like it is because they think that she's mastered the art of making it just look like she has no artistic abilities at all. It must be genius, they'll say. No, she just sucks dong at painting, but won't accept it. You should see the way the real artists at the show tear into her stuff. They're insulted by her very presence.

Lynn is about 5'6" with a face like Deputy Dog. Her body is all loose and flabby, like she never did a day's work in her whole life. She has these gigantic bulging eyes like a serial killer on approach. She's automatically in your personal space. She has a slight forward hunch due to the enormous waist level breasts she has. And she always wants a hug which pushes those things right into my stomach, causing me to lose my appetite for weeks. She is seen in her bathrobe more often than real clothes. And in case she hasn't told you yet, her cousin is Vice President Dick Cheney. This alone is reason enough to vote for Kerry. If there's even the slightest chance that the craziness in this bitch's mind is genetic, I refuse to allow it to be one heartbeat away from executive leadership.

It's the funniest thing at the art show, because she won't stop trying to impress people with the fact the she's the VP's cousin and that one of her whackjob paintings is in the Library of Congress. All she does is push people away and make small children scream in terror. I mean, so what if it's in the Library of Congress. So is every issue of Swank and Hustler. Is this something to brag on? Her signature piece is called the pink bearded iris. Check it out. It looks like a vagina exploding from the inside out. And it's a pretty good visual representation of her psyche. The woman is absolutely nuts and completely helpless. She can't do anything for herself and everything is an emergency. And ever since Nina signed up to sell her garbage at the art fair, she's been calling Nina every day to help her with whatever bullshit she's too stupid to do for herself. She really did sell her soul to the devil.

When Nina called me I decided that there was simply no way to be polite and "good husband" about helping her. Nina's problem is that she's too nice to everyone else, especially people who take advantage of her. Every time Lynn asks her to help with something, Nina does it. Whenever she goes over to her house for whatever reason, she's there for hours. Lynn just won't shut up and let her go. I get out of there by saying "well, thanks. See you later." And then, unlike Nina, I walk the fuck out the door. If she gets offended she can call her cousin to arrange a hit. But Nina won't do that. And it's really affecting her.

So I kind of got on Nina's ass about it. Maybe she wanted me to tell her that I was sorry she had to go through all this. Maybe I should have told her that I can relate to her problems. I could have been sympathetic and empathic. But now I'm getting upset about this old hag upsetting my wife and it's affecting my happiness. So I told her that she needs to set a time limit and no matter what she has to leave when the time is up. Even if Lynn is mid-sentence, which she will be since she never stops talking, Nina has to just up and leave. I guess it wasn't what she wanted to hear, and I understand that. But damn it women, if it's understanding you want, call a girl. We're men. We offer solutions, nothing more.

So this brings me back to the topic. Nina has a tough time being rude to people. I personally feel better every time I rip into some jackass who's pissing me off. But Nina's just a sweet little thing. What I'm trying to get across is that there are times when courtesy is useless, and hints and innuendo go unrecognized. There are very real times when it is not only acceptable but the only effective course of action to be a fucking asshole. "Look, I'm going to leave now. I can't help you anymore today and I doubt I'll have any time for you tomorrow. You're just going to have to figure it out for yourself. Goodbye!" She says that she can't do that because Lynn really needs her. But I don't buy it. What if I were to come up to her screaming, "Nina, it's an emergency! I need to have my dick sucked right now! I know we're in the middle of Target, but it's important!" I don't think that I'd get the same level of sweet, milquetoast response.

I'm not mad at her at all. I just wish that I could get her to let loose some of that anger. It's justified. Lynn's got it coming. And Nina will feel better. Once she feels better she can relax. Once she's relaxed we can have fun. Once we have fun I can have happy, fun sex with her. And that's really what this is all about anyway, right?