JOY part 39

Colorado was cool. Very cool. My back was killing me from too many hours in the Mini, but I was still having a blast. The roads wound in and out of the Rocky Mountains like, like, like something cool a really good author would say right here. It was just cool. And beautiful. And would be perfect for another one of those helicopter shots accompanied by musical score on the big screen. The Mini Cooper was totally in its element. Whizzing in and out of the slackers going around the curves ever-so-carefully. It was the funnest time I may have ever had driving. Well, I did like that time, ever so long ago, when I first got the Mini in New York and did combat with the Yellow Cab Demons. But this was different. This was real “motoring” as the Mini ads would say. A total blast.

I was almost disappointed when I started to get close to Denver. I say “almost” quite sincerely, as Denver meant Rachel. Which meant…You know. Or so I hope. Or so I prayed. God, I loved that mouth.

As I took the exit she had told me to, I once again was struck by how the outskirts of Denver looked like the outskirts of anywhere. You’d think I would learn. The same mall, stores, and shitty new construction you would see all across any of the vast wasteland between New York and Los Angeles. In a way, it was as bland and dully repetitive as the corn fields of Iowa and Nebraska. The one big exception, of course, was the amazing Colorado topography. What a truly beautiful state.

Speaking of beautiful. Rachel still looked awesome. I’ll pause a second for you to note my brilliance in that transition. OK, enough worshipping of my skills. Especially because I was here to worship her skills. In the oral arts. As she…Right. Yes. As I was saying. Rachel still looked really hot. I mean, oddly enough, she was never what most people would consider pretty. She was a little heavy and her features looked good from some angles but not from others. But she was always just so sexy. I mean, even before I got to know how she backed that up with her particular talents and skills. Something about her just made you want to touch yourself. Kind of like that really bad song by the Divinyls in the eighties. I lost you again, didn’t I? Don’t worry about it. All you need to know is that Rachel still had it. I still wanted her in the way I used to. Then again, believe it or not, I wanted a lot of women like that. Shocker, I know, after all you’ve seen and heard about so far.

Of course, being my pathetic, sad, humiliating, frustrating, tortuous, depressing, shitty, awful, frustrating, frustrating, frustrating life, it was bound to lead to pain. This time it wasn’t me. My stomach was fine. I was saying all the right things. I was in a good mood from the fun drive up. I was “on.” Not as in fake, but as “in the zone.” In fact, I was fucking charming as hell. Really. I was as good as I ever get which, contrary to what the likes of you might think, is pretty damn charming. Which, of course, didn’t matter one iota. Whatever an iota may be.

Cut to the following scene taking place in a nice, newly built suburban house in the suburbs of Denver. The living room where a large picture window embraces a view of similar houses and the mountains beyond. A sexy woman in her late twenties, a Julia Roberts type, sits in a chair across from a handsome, Tom-Cruise-looking-sort-of-fellow (ME, in case you forgot). The two people have apparently been talking for awhile and the conversation is in high gear. At which point the following happens…


Do you mind if I ask you something kind
of personal?

No. Go ahead.

She leans in close.

Do you believe in Our Lord and Savior,
Jesus Christ?

Excuse me.

Do you believe in the Lord?


You don’t, do you? I can see it in your

Right. So, this…

I know you’re lost. I can see it. You’re
sad and lonely and looking for something
when it’s been right in front of you the
whole time.

Rachel, can we please talk about
something else?

Don’t be frightened. Don’t deny him.
Embrace him.

When did you get so religious? You were
never like this.

Like you, I was once lost. But now I
know the peace and serenity of embracing
Our Lord.

I think I should go.

Don’t walk away. Don’t turn your back
on Him.

I’m not turning my back on him. I’m
turning my back on you.

The Tom Cruise looking guy heads for the door.

You need his love. I can see it. Don’t
run away.

Go convert someone else, alright?! I’ll
see you, Rachel.

Don’t turn your back on Heaven! Embrace

He turns. Stares her in the eye. He is really, really pissed…

You really want me to find heaven?

Of course, I do. That’s why…

Then get on your knees and suck my cock
the way you used to. THAT was heaven.

She’s stunned. She stands there mouth open like a fish not knowing how to reply. Paralyzed by his crudeness as he walks out the door.


He walks across the well kept lawn toward his ever-so-cool car. Rachel stands in the open doorway screaming after him.


Yeah. FUCK YOU, TOO! Later, Rachel.

And with that, our scene comes to an end…

Brilliant, wasn’t I? “Then get on your knees and suck my cock.” Yes, I actually said it. Yes, it was really crude and nasty. Yes, I probably will be cast down to hell and suffer eternal pain and suffering. But I was pissed. Really pissed. I hate when people try to force their beliefs on you like that. I don’t care who they are: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Satan Worshipers, Communists, Fascists, Account People, Studio Executives, Satanic Communist Studio Executives…Whoever. DO NOT FORCE YOUR SHIT ON ME!!! Can you tell I feel kind of strongly about this? Believe whatever the hell you want to, but respect my right to make up my own mind and to be free of your twisted propaganda and bullshit. “Embrace Him.” I should have told her “embrace my cock with your lips and we’ll go from there.” God, when did she become such a freak?

As I drove away as fast as I could, it suddenly made sense why she was so eager to have me stop by. I was not another little sex romp for a bored girl in the suburbs but another soul to be saved. As far as I was concerned, Jesus was some guy who had some really interesting things to say. And had some serious balls when it came to telling the Romans to fuck off, but that’s about it.

For all I know, God is just a combination of chemicals in your brain put there by nature to get you through and ensure your survival. I told you all this, ever so long ago. “Don’t turn your back on Him.” Fucking Freak. Heaven is a good blow job. Hell is having to fart on a crowded train. The afterlife, the fertilizer your body becomes as you rot in your coffin. Can you tell I’m still kind of angry about this?


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