A Left-Handed Monkey Wrench
Last night, I woke up and thought I smelled something bad (that thing that reminds me of my father). It is a dry, sick smell… like snake sweat (though I’m pretty sure snakes don’t sweat) or a sick baby (either way, snake or baby, doesn’t say much for healthy masculinity)… like a really old man’s underwear drawer or an old lady wearing baby powder (that’s ironic)… a musty smell (like dry rot). This morning, I decided this is happening because my father recently called me a bastard (in my head)… perhaps in remembrance of the day he came into the boys room after a night of teen spirit and told us we stank.
Bastard, son of a bitch, or mother-fucker… I’m remembering the time God told me he’d like to see who could cuss better (my tormentors… or me sans father, mother, or mother-father). Yet I’ve been, like I said, denying for 15 years that I fucked my mother up the ass (meaning, I shouldn’t have to pay for the historical oppression of women just because I’m male… especially since I haven’t, personally, ever oppressed a woman). Still, if I were like the poor-white-trash women-loving slave-boys, I’d likely go find a whore to fuck up the ass so I could joyfully beat up my father and call my mother a bitch.
This reminds me of the left-handed monkey wrench* and a joke: This black guy in ghetto is talking to someone with a Master’s degree. Black guy says "Oh, you got a mas’er degree? Does that make you my mas’a? Think you can kick my ass?"
There’s this movie, Smart People (where they make smart people look stupid and stupid people look smart). So anyway, this smart girl asks this whorish girl what it feels like to be stupid. The stupid girl replies “What does it feel like to sit alone at lunch every day?” (And the chorus girls say: You go girl! Me too! Let’s all make fun of anyone who disagrees!)
Regarding spirits and the human spirit: Vapors rise and humors fall (and spirits don’t exist except, maybe, in bottles).
*The story of the left handed monkey wrench: My father told me this story about how, when he was working on a job laying pipe, someone who was educated was put in charge of his crew. So, anyway, everyone became resentful and decided to humiliate the new foreman (no, this isn’t the story of the brush party where they took a steel brush and scrubbed someone / beat them until they conformed… that happened in the army… haha?). Anyway, they sent him to find a LEFT handed monkey wrench (haha, you just flip the monkey wrench around and use it in the left hand… there’s no difference). The moral of the story… everyone gets to laugh at LEFTY (the new guy, hahaha). SO: The word ‘bastard’ is like a left-handed monkey wrench (it can be flipped around and put in the other hand, so to speak). And stinky old people get to laugh at younger, sweet-smelling new guys. Not funny…
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