Not so much a descent. More like a plunge.
I don’t tell many people this, but since we know each other so well I feel comfortable sharing this, when no one’s watching I sing. Usually I sing top 40 stuff, but occasionally I make up songs about what I’m doing at that moment – like doing the laundry or chewing gum. Mostly I sing about normal, everyday things. You know, stuff everyone can relate to.
Right now I’m singing a cute little number about Will’s penis, broken glass and spaghetti. It’s quite catchy.
And he tells me I have issues. Yeah right. The only thing we have in common is that we’re both cocksuckers. Ha ha!
I so can’t believe he treated me that way. There I was trying to be a nice person and he has the balls to tell me to leave. Fuck that shit, no one tells me what to do. Whatever, talking to that fat cunt Jen for two seconds made me want to get the heck out of there. Seriously, I was thinking about leaving anyway.
You wanna know something funny? I guarantee that smug piece of shit thought he was all superior and shit when he made me look like an ass in front of his stupid little family. Well let’s see how he feels when he gets a call from my dad’s attorney.
Let’s see how you like being charged with assault, fuckwad.
I called my attorney and he said that without evidence or witness testimony it’ll be hard to get the authorities to press criminal charges.
So I said to him, “I’ve got pictures of the bruises.”
And you know what the fat fuck said (he sounded fat)?
“Uhhh, Liz, you do, uhh, realize that he, uhh, called the police first.”
“So?”
“So, uhh, their records contradict your version of the events as it happened.”
“Well no fucking shit, Sherlock, that’s because they only have one side of the story.”
“And then there is the issue of you, uhh, waiting a week to bring this to my attention. It doesn’t look good, Liz. It doesn’t create the impression that you were, uhh, as you say assaulted.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“It’s not that,” he started to say.
“Well listen here you mouth-breathing-fat fuck, I was assaulted goddammit. And if you won’t help me, I’ll find someone who will.”
Apparently that was fine with him because he told me he had to let me go and hung up. So I called my dad and told him he better fire the guy.
Oh well, vigilante justice is way more fun.
Just ask Heath.
* * *
It’s no secret I enjoy shopping. A lot. What can I say, it makes me happy. It’s almost like my life gets a little more complete with each and every purchase. Of course with as much shopping as I do you’d think my life would be pretty darn complete! But naturally that ignores the fact that one’s life is never complete.
Anywhoo, girl’s got some shopping to do.
Of all the places in the world that I’ve shopped at, Uptown is definitely my fave. I know, I know… I’m on record saying that Summit Ave was cool and everything, but that’s only if you want to look like every other rich bitch over age 30. Uptown, on the other hand, is pretty much the center of my trendy little universe. If you know a thing about fashion and you’ve got the money it’s the place to be. If you don’t…well I just feel sorry for you.
So I’m indulging in some well needed retail therapy at one of my favorite boutiques – checking out this absolutely to-die-for handbag – when I look out the window and see Heath and Denise. I can’t help but smile because she looks way fatter than normal, but then I remember that the bitch is pregnant and, voila, there goes my good mood. I’m thinking there is no way I want them to see me, but of course they do, cause that’s totally been my luck lately. The big horse face smiles at me and I smile back as big and as happily as a girl can considering the circumstances. Heath pretended not to know who she was smiling at, but right away we made eye contact so I knew that he knew he was fucked.
We both were.
All I wanted was to find a new goddamn purse, but instead I was faced with the prospect of hearing this uppity bitch gush about how fucking wonderful her stupid fucking life is.
You probably think I deserve it, don’t you?
I hope not.
I don’t want to have to hate you too 
Just kidding. We’ll always be friends. At least for a while.
Where was I? Oh yeah, Denise sees me and starts pulling Heath into the store, which, as I’ve already stated, is way not cool. So uncool that I have no choice but to interrupt my valuable shopping experience and leave the store. Forgetting that I already made the mistake of acknowledging the cunt, I’m thinking that maybe I can act like I don’t see them or something. Maybe if I walk real fast…
Yeah right. I’m screwed. May as well get it over with as quickly as possible.
We meet up right in from of the store and immediately I’m hit with an annoyingly chipper, “Hey there Liz. We were just on our way in to say hi!”
Would it be bad of me to punch her in the stomach?
“Hey there,” I say back with equal cheer. As if I’m going to let that bitch think I’m not happy. I’m waiting for Heath to say something and lean in to give me a hug, but of course he just stands there.
“What the hell,” I ask. “I sucked you off how many times and I don’t even get a hug?”
Heath always complained that Denise never went down on him, so I figure this’ll piss her off. Plus I guarantee Heath misses it. And to think the ass could of had blowjobs and babies. Hopefully his kid won’t be as retarded as he is.
“Ever the class act,” Heath shot back.
“Actually,” Denise interrupted, “Since getting pregnant we’ve had to…” She looked at Heath and smiled. “…find other ways to satisfy each other.”
“Well I’m sure with a mouth as big as yours you hardly even knew it was there.”
Denise laughed, but Heath looked like he wanted to kill me.
“Oh Liz,” she replied, “you’re such a sad, sad girl.” She took Heath’s hand. “Maybe a little true love will do you good someday. I know we…”
She started to say something else, she stopped as we both fell into the street. Heath yelled something and she screamed. Then there was a squish. Then lots of people started screaming.
I’m not sure what happened after that. Someone said I got bumped and fell into her and the reason we both ended up in the street was because she tried to break her fall by grabbing onto me. Simple physics is what they said, she weighed a lot, I weighed a little. They said it was a miracle that I didn’t get run over too.
They said the reason I don’t remember anything was because Heath went berserk at the sight of his pregnant wife’s head getting ran over by a bus so he started slamming mine into the street. They said they knew he was crazy because he didn’t say anything while he did it. He just slammed and slammed and slammed. Thankfully my head landed on top of a shopping bag. It was from Baby Gap.
They didn’t tell me that last part. I just remembered seeing it.
Anyway, what I figured out was that the reason I was so troubled by the incident wasn’t because I saw someone’s head get squished by a bus, but because I have major Salvador Dali issues. Now, thanks to the vision of Denise’s flat face I won’t be able to get that overrated hack’s paintings out of my mind.
I know, how sad is that?
The mouth-breathing lawyer called me and told me not to worry; that he was confident no charges would be pressed. Like that was something I ever worried about. Hello! I got pushed for Christ’s sake. Not my fault.
“Just don’t make any attempt to contact Heath or his family,” he said. “Or you’ll violate the restraining order that was placed on you.”
“Fuck him,” is what I had to say about that.
The lawyer said something but I wasn’t paying attention to him. I was on a roll.
“Fuck his stupid baby.”
The line went dead.
“And fuck his squished-ass wife.”
“Because if you ask me,” I continued, “fate did that faggot-fuck a favor.” And since that sounded funny and kind of rhymed, I started to laugh.
Crazier than you « Write Before Thinking said,
December 18, 2008 at 12:22 pm
[...] Crazier than you Liz plunges headfirst into psychosis. Fun times. [...]