Tuesday, March 23, 2010

one down...four hundred and ninety-nine to go...

It was perhaps a fitting, final tribute to the under whelming strength and passion of our dying marriage that it took almost nine days before I realised my wife HAD actually left me and moved out.



And I want you to remember this next snippet of information for the moment; she often came home drunk/drug-fucked at 4am, marching into the bedroom holding a garbage bin she’d found somewhere, on which she used to climb and stand unsteadily before yelling “I’m trashed” (which I actually used to think was awfully clever/cute) before falling asleep and wetting the bed (full story later). The reason I want you to remember this salient fact is because SHE LEFT ME !!! And with good reason too; which gives you a glimmer of insight into what sort of special cunt I am.
Now whilst I might not have been the most attentive partner/husband in the world, you’d think that her vanishing entirely without my noticing, the makeover equivalent of her shaving her head and my asking if she’d done something with her hair, showed either a total lack of interest or a total presence of indifference on my part…but to be fair there were excuses.
We had both apparently taken our marital vow to spend the rest of eternity boring each other senseless and systematically extracting the very life-marrow from each other’s being so seriously, that what should have taken fifty years of applied apathy and contemptible familiarity to accomplish…had in fact been done in a mere three-and-a-bit.
And I wish I could look back at the mangled wreckage and say that we just drifted apart, as often happens in marriage, but the fact is we were wrong for each other from the very beginning.
I still remember my wife’s first private spoken words; she poodled up to me at the pub after listening to a terribly clever argument I was having with the small crowd we were in…and when they had all left she leaned in and whispered, ‘You’re a complete cunt,’ after which we went home and fucked up a storm. Initially, the opposition created a delicious attraction, like two magnets obeying some bizarre law of electrosexual-magnetism. Then, not long after the thrill of angrily rubbing ourselves together in the mindless pursuit of orgasm subsided, we got our first reality check. We weren’t magnets…nor even ships eventually destined to pass in the night; I was ‘Titanic’…elegant, stately, and unsinkable…and she was the iceberg…cold, hard and immovable.
Well, not really…but I had fun writing the analogy so I'll go with it for the moment.
A more truthful version might be that from my point of view I was fun personified, a clown on nitrous…and she was the antidote. Of course my wife might remember it differently; however until she writes her own fucking book the world can just take my word for what happened.
You see we’d been having a trial separation for the previous three months, although we were still living under the same roof. She had moved out of the Master Fun Room into the guest bedroom and taken her belongings with.
Now, when I say trial separation, I assumed it was a trial in the sense of it being an experiment; as in a clinical trial where we would compare the respective quality of our lives with and without each other.
My wife on the other hand decided that it was a trial in the sense of it being a jurisprudential ambush; as in a legal trial where I would be accused of a litany of crimes against matrimony…

And for posterity...and perhaps entering in The Buller-Lytton Fiction Contest...

Unquestionably the key to our dramatic success in failing was the almost metronomic consistency with which we were diametrically opposed throughout the course of our relationship. Initially that opposition made for a veritable smorgasbord of personal attraction served with lashings of spirited debate and deliciously angry, passionate sex. I still remember my wife’s first private spoken words; she poodled up to me at the pub after listening to a terribly clever argument I was having with the small crowd we were in…and after they had all drifted away she leaned in and whispered, ‘You’re a complete cunt,’ after which we went home and fucked up a storm.
Of course some time later, upon discovering we were not in fact metal objects rubbing together violently in the mindless pursuit of achieving predestined orgasms in accordance with the immutable laws of electro-sexual-magnetism…but frail human beings looking for just the barest thread of mutual connection…the opposition began to cancel out the previous benefit of our respective personal polarities, so that when added together their sum was eventually zero.

19 comments:

Bambam said...

Not a bad opener -- but it would be remiss of me to allow your readers to dwell in ignorance of one unforgettable detail: she had glorious tits.

fingers said...

BBB: I was getting to that...now I have to do a complete re-write of page two...

Fanny said...

The fifth paragraph is tough reading.

fingers said...

Fanny: Then don't read it...or piss off and go to '101.7 Easy Reading'. No, you're right...it jangled my nerves too. Way too convoluted and in dire need of a re-write. Totally out of whack with the overall style. I have earmarked it for a complete overhaul. Thanks for the input, baby. I intend just to get the shit down on e-paper and deal with the revisions later...

MommyHeadache said...

This sentence was tough like chewing kangaroo meat and too long: Of course some time later....sum was eventually zero.

Generally I'd say wow you seem very raw and angry about this still...and wierdly enough it makes YOU come across as a cunt even though you are trying to say you were both CUNTS.....I think you need to come across as sympathetic and the way to achieve it is yes as bambam says you need to maybe show us some of her good points too not just the mammaries but other stuff so we can 'side' with you and see your perspective better rather than thinking 'oh this is just the ravings of some bitter old wierdo with poor taste in women'

just my 2 cents!!

Bad Bob said...

You have one page, and everyone is a critic. I, for one, love it!!!
Clown on nitrous!!! That is just too funny! Can I borrow it?

Memphis said...

"Of course some time later, upon discovering we were not in fact metal objects rubbing together violently in the mindless pursuit of achieving predestined orgasms in accordance with the immutable laws of electro-sexual-magnetism…but frail human beings looking for just the barest thread of mutual connection…the opposition began to cancel out the previous benefit of our respective personal polarities, so that when added together their sum was eventually zero."


All this time I thought I was the most verbose genius in all of Blogland, but you have proven me wrong! Good God, what a sentence! If it weren't so fucking long I'd print it out, frame it, and hang it on my wall as a monument to the kind of masterpiece that no one recognizes until after the artist is dead and show it off to all my pseudo-intellectual friends. "Hey, I'll bet none of you have anything like this on your walls, do you? Yeah, Nietzsche is so passe. This is the new black.

I applaud you, sir.

Anonymous said...

how could you have not noticed all the furniture was missing for nine days?

oh wait...hang on. was that the wife or the hooker chick that swiped your couch(es)??

Spiky Zora Jones said...

fingers baby. Don't stop with it. continue on with it

Even if you think you struggled with a point because of language. come back to it later and edit it.

Creative writing is writing that uses language in imaginative and bold ways.

I could say I would have started your first paragraph and broken it into 2 sentences. The first starting with 'It took almost nine days'...et cetra. The second starting with with your original first sentence. But that would my choice in trying to grab the interest of the reader. It's more the American way. But which will grab the reader best...and satisfy external demand just don't sacrifice the internal you. You don't lack literary sophisticationre. Use it, abuse it...write it.

Just know that you have free grazing...no one saying you can't use the word fuck or cunt.Well not till it's made inbto a movie. :)

I'm rabbling, sorry it's the end of my work day and my sugar seems to be falling rather quickly. And I must hurry and go.

You're doing wonderfully honey. I onced asked my favorite writer...'what did she need to write more than anyhing else.' The desire to be a bard was always there. She said. "References, references, references."

I can't wait for the next part honey.

so..go get back on thaat computer and get writing. ;)

ciao hon. xx

fingers said...

xl: I assume everyone knows what a special cunt I AM but I like the revision anyway. Thanks. Done.

Emmak: It's diabolical. I got sucked into a vortex writing it. I can't bear to look at it anymore. I had to re-write it before I can move on. Meanwhile I am not bitter or hurt at all and will be saying lovely things about my ex shortly. After all I married her, so I'm gonna look a bit silly admitting to marrying an irredeemable cunt. My intention will never be to blame her for what happened. Just report the facts as I saw them through my distorted goggles.

BB: Thanks mate. Yeah they're brutal, eh. Still, that's what I wanted. This is way harder that I thought it would be. And yes, you can use the clown gag...but only in person...not in print.

MS: Oh mate, it's like some hideous James Joyce-like nightmare. I've saved it below as a museum-piece or for submission to this year's Buller-Lytton Fiction Contest...

Memphis said...

As bad as my writing is, if I say it's awesome and very well written, that's when you know it's awful. I'm actually totally sucked in and I want to read the rest already.

Jayne said...

"Of course some time later, upon discovering we were not in fact metal objects rubbing together violently in the mindless pursuit of achieving predestined orgasms in accordance with the immutable laws of electro-sexual-magnetism…but frail human beings looking for just the barest thread of mutual connection…the opposition began to cancel out the previous benefit of our respective personal polarities, so that when added together their sum was eventually zero."

This paragraph really shows your talent for writing Fingers. Naturally, you have to bring in the big tits aspect pretty soon - for the benefit of your male readers - but on the whole, I reckon you've made a great start.

Memphis said...

"We weren’t magnets…nor even ships eventually destined to pass in the night; I was ‘Titanic’…elegant, stately, and unsinkable…and she was the iceberg…cold, hard and immovable."


HA HA! I like that!

Spiky Zora Jones said...

Fingers: babe...I likey.

'and perhaps entering in The Buller-Lytton Fiction Contest...'

I so have you beat this year. I'm even thinking of moving to San Jose. That way I would not have far to accept my awards...yes, you read correctly. I intend to win from here on.

Hum...I should buy a bigger trophy case.

ciao sweetie. xxx

Electro-Kevin said...

You make not-a-lot go a long way. You should be able to make your five hundred at this rate.

A good read.

Clyde said...

Jebus, I knew my ex had been married before but not to you---well it was either you or she was your wifes sister or a very close relative---
Or are they all like that once you marry them ?

UBERMOUTH said...

And you don't like poetry!!!
That was fucking fabulous, Carrie!
Your words are so fluid-like a ballet.

This was the best writing I have ever seen from you.A great marinade of vulgarity, wit, pain and eloquence.

So much meatier than 'Smoke my 7 inch bat,bitch'.

Seriously, I meant every word of what I just wrote and hope that you really are going to write this book...and it's not all just an anti-climatic teaser.

fingers said...

Kitty: Just for that you can write the chapter on my missing couches.

Spiker: Have you ever read Umberto Eco ?? There's a fine line between good writing and unreadable garbage.

MS: Charles Dickens started his career by serializing a novel.

Jiney: That paragraph is surely a chewy bone of literary contention. The problem would be maintaining its rage for the entire novel, so I've taken it out.

MS: Yeah it's neat...even if it is a lie.

E-K: Just as well...I'm nearly out of material.

Clyde: Pure coincidence mate. Although I truly believe there is a cunt out there for everyone.

Uber: Why thank you. You've give me the courage and strength to try page 2...

UBERMOUTH said...

Hahaha.. I will pull the rug out from under you on page 6.