notanotherphony.

Jack Tait sits naked in a pile of puke with white slimy worms coming out of his bum.  his last recollection was fucking the two hundred pound black woman that he met at Denny’s.  he doesn’t know where he is nor how he got there.  he also doesn’t know what happened to his clothes.  he only wanted to get laid and now he sits in shame.  Jack Tait is a Mormon.  He once stole a chocolate bar from Hasty Market but then he decided to change.  his parents wouldn’t help him as they wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer.  they put their pride in front of Jack’s dreams and thus Jack became a raving sex addict filled with anger and booze issues.  Jack would not seek shelter for shelter would not make him smile.  nor would it make him cry.
  Jack Tait has no friends.  he has no enemies.  he has no pets.  he has no girlfriend.  he has no boyfriend.  he has fucked over one hundred and fifty women but only knows the name of five of them.  he has blown his load one thousand two hundred and eighty-five times.  most have been flushed down a toilet.  he has made girls cum.  but he is not sure how many because he is selfish.  he has worn a condom five times in his life but he has broken three of them.  Jack Tait is lonely and ashamed.  he is also naked and has worms coming out of his bum.
  Jack gets up but is not quite sure what to do.  his nose is now bleeding.  he looks around and sees animals.  dogs.  cats.  snakes.  “WHERE THE FUCK AM I???”  he begins to walk and now needs to take a shit.  he finds a small blue car and squats beside it.  he hears The Eurythmics playing and thinks back to his high school years.  a big smile comes across Jack’s face as he squeezes out a sloppy yellowy brown shit.  worms all over it.  now flies attack.  Jack continues to walk nakedly down the barren street.  he hears Mexican voices and Mexican accents.  he pauses.  he looks.  he pauses some more and runs.  he runs and runs.  dogs start chasing him.  rabid Mexican dirty dogs.  he hears gun shots.  then he hears The Macarena.  he quickly looks behind him and sees three hundred Mexican men running at him with thirty-eight rabid dogs.  Jack is sweating.  he turns down a side street and hopes that the herd of people and dogs will pass.  they don’t.  they turn as well so Jack starts running again.  he runs over spiders and lizards and just wants to be back at the mental asylum but he forgets where it is.
  Jack Tait continues to run.  he hears a loud dumb asshole talking and wants to bash his brains in but decides that killing is wrong so he doesn’t.  he runs.  he eventually gets away from the herd and now sits down.  thirsty.  needs a drink.  needs clothes.  needs a woman.  needs to get better.  Jack pulls out his eight inch penis and strokes it until it becomes twelve inches.  he hears loud shitty music coming from somewhere and remembers back to when he was semi-normal and living in a condo in Toronto where every asshole played their shitty music loudly and didn’t give a fuck about anyone.  Jack wants to go back with a baseball bat and smash their brains in as well but he starts crying instead.  he wants a hug from his Mom but she is afraid to hug.  so he continues to cry.  one worm falls out of his bum and looks at him.  Jack smiles.  his dick has shrunk.  he starts walking again and notices a police car up ahead.  Jack walks up to the police car…naked…bleeding nose…worms still periodically coming out of his bum.  he smiles at the officer.  the officer smiles back and then begins to club Jack with an eight iron.  “I DIDN’T KNOW THEY GOLFED IN MEXICO???”  Jack screams and screams and screams but there is no one around to answer his calls.  the mob that he eluded earlier,  reappear and start singing Roxanne by The Police.  the policeman continues to smash his eight iron against Jack’s naked body.  Jack begins to laugh but the harder he laughs the harder he gets hit.  blood has splattered everywhere.  the rabid dogs have now appeared and they are hungry.  they attack Jack.  the cop attacks Jack.  worms attack Jack.  “Roxanne…you don’t have to put on the red light.”  Jack likes this song.  he smiles.  he is now red.  almost dead.  all he wants is one last cerveza.  SMASH.  SMASH.  SMASH.  “I HATE FUCKING DOGS!!!”
  the policeman leaves.  the group of people singing Roxanne leave.  the dogs leave.  Jack Tait is now alone again.  sad.  bloodied.  thirsty.  horny.  sweaty.  dirty.  naked.  he sits and ponders while naked and covered in blood.  “i don’t want to die.  i hope i never die.  life is so much fun.  i want to fuck.  i want to get drunk.  i want to swim.  i want to run.  i want to laugh.  i want to laugh.  i want to laugh.  I WANT TO LAUGH.  I WANT TO LAUGH.  I WANT TO LAUGH.”  Jack cries and falls asleep.  naked.

he had a huge dick.  he had been told this since he started fucking at the age of fifteen.  “YOU HAVE A HUGE COCK!!!”.  this is a fact.  not fiction.  so he did what he only knew how…with his big dick…he fucked.  he fucked.  and then he fucked more.  always satisfaction guaranteed.  unless he was drunk…and sloppy.  then he or she had to wait until the morning.  then it would be one massive fuckfest.  women wanted seconds but Jack Tait only wanted firsts.  once his load was blown he decided that coffee and the sports page was more important.  he hurt girls.  he pleased girls.  he excited girls.  he disgusted girls.  there was no in-between for poor Jack Tait.  he lived in the moment and didn’t apologize to no one for living in that moment.  if the girls were foolish enough to believe that they would change big dicked Jack then they deserved their fate.  he wasn’t malicious in anything he did…unless he was drunk.  he only wanted to do what he knew best.  to fuck and to fuck hard.  there was no lovemaking.  no foreplay.  no wining and dining.  it was pure animalistic passionate fucking.  Jack didn’t have time for the bullshit stories of romance.  he didn’t have time for useless sayings like, “it doesn’t matter how big a man is it’s what he does with it.”  all bullshit.  bullshit used by girls who have men with small dicks.  small dicks mean lousy sex.  sometimes two fingers are bigger than one man’s dick.  how possibly exciting can that be?
  Jack wandered through life.  wandered from bedrooms to bedrooms to cars to tents to office bathrooms to “Johnny on the spots”.  he wandered and fucked.  he never wore condoms.  he never got aids.  he never got herpes or syphillus.  Jack fucked and Jack fucked hard.  he also drank.  he drank and he drank hard.
  then Jack turned fifty.  he began to shrivel up.  his face became more shrivelled.  his body became more shrivelled.  his dick became more shrivelled.  shrivelled skin everywhere.  he thought about getting facelifts and dick lifts and ass tucks and hair transplants but he was not phony.  he still wanted to fuck but it didn’t work the way it used to work.  Jack never took medications so he refused to use Viagra.  the only medications Jack ever took were narcotics intended to give Jack an escape from his boring world.  his boring life.  I think Jack was a sex addict but what is a sex addict?  Jack felt that he was helping girls with his constant fucking.  he was helping their self esteem.  he felt that they wanted to fuck just as much as him so he fucked them.   he didn’t lie.  Jack was not a liar.  he was many other things but a liar was not one of them.  was Jack an animal?  is that what men are?  is that what men are supposed to be?  what happened to men?  why are men more like women now?  women are women and it works for them but it doesn’t work when men become women.  that is right from the bible.  fights.  killings.  sacrifice.  torture.  hunting.  conquering.  barbaric behaviours.  ALL FROM THE BIBLE AND ALL PERFORMED BY MEN.  what has happened?
  Jack now sits by the river naked and saggy.  lonely and quiet.  he only has one friend and that is the squirrel which lies beside Jack.  dead.  Jack was once powerful.  a fucking machine.  women always wanted more from Jack but Jack was unable to give them more.  Jack was an animal.  He seeked out and conquered.  he blew his load and fell asleep.  now sad and alone.  shrivelled up and quiet he seeks answers but no one has any.
  Jack will die in the next five years.  life once filled with hope and girls and fucking and sucking.  now he sits beside a dead squirrel.  naked.
  Jack will never fuck another human being.

boom.  boom.  boom.  boom.  boom.  noise everywhere and I just woke up.  look outside.  blinded by snow.  cold.  i put the coffee on and turn on my computer.  the coffee machine beeps.  the trucks honk.  construction up above.  7am.  my day about to begin.  what’s in store for me today?  i drink my coffee.  check facebook.  check my phone.  check the news.  NOTHING.  life filled with nothingness.  counting the minutes down.  down to what I do not know.  lottery tickets are purchased.  not by me.  shit shows are watched.  not by me.  shit music is listened to.  not by me.  celebrities are worshipped.  not by me.  i pull out my nine iron and put my shorts on.  i then put my ski goggles on and walk out of my apartment.  wait for the elevator.  hear a dog bark.  hear loud music.  hear a loud man.  i am on a mission today.  job interview.  a stripper appears.  she has a black eye.  i smile.  she looks down.  shame.  the elevator arrives.  the door opens.  i walk in.  so does the stripper.  there are four other people on the elevator.  one is short.  one is tall.  one is fat.  one is skinny.  all four have moustaches.  only one is a man.  life is weird sometimes.  the elevator ride down is short.  someone farted.  probably the stripper.  IT STUNK.  the elevator doors opened and we all exited.  we walked.  looked down.  noise getting louder.  construction workers everywhere.  everything was white.  except for the black floors.  i began smashing my nine iron off of the marble floor.  i don’t know why.  i just did.  security guards approached.  i smiled.  four security guards all yelling something at me but i couldn’t understand them.  they looked tired.  they probably had never seen a nine iron smashed off of the black marble floors before.  life is weird.  the security guards kept yelling.  i kept smashing.  noise.  noise.  noise.  four more strippers walked by me.  they all smiled.  i waved.  one was wearing clothes.  the other three were naked.  boom.  boom.  boom.  boom.  blackness appeared.  i could see nothing.  i could hear lots.  i could see nothing.  silence.  waterfalls.  rivers.  oceans.  i knew these shorts would come in handy.
  I woke up outside.  in a snowbank.  ski goggles protecting my eyes.  shorts wet.  legs wet.  hands cold.  nine iron beside me.  i jumped to my feet.  picked up the nine iron and began walking.  “am I late for my job interview?”  walked for miles.  or is that kilometres.  lucky we changed over to the metric system.  my naked legs began to get cold.  i pulled out my bottle of Jack Daniels and started chugging.  always a good idea to drink Jack Daniels before a job interview. 
  i began to get tired so i stopped.  sat in the snow.  i made a snowball and chucked it at a silver mercedes benz.  SMACK.  windows smashed.  driver dead.  car crashed.  i ran.  and ran.  and ran.  i held onto my nine iron.  “lucky i wore shorts today.”  i ran right.  i ran left.  under a big truck.  hopped a fence.  chased by a pit bull.  stepped in shit.  scratched by tree branch.  sirens blaring.  snow pounding down.  shivering and sweating at the same time.  still would not let go of my nine iron.  ski goggles fogging up.  “fucking cheap ski goggles.”  peaceful.  snow stopped.  i stopped.  i listened.  NOTHING.  no construction.  no snow.  no dogs barking.  no horns.  no sirens.  “did i get away with murder?”  i walked out to the barren street.  nobody.  nowhere.  i walked.  i walked .  i walked.  i looked around and NOTHING.  i looked ahead and saw my building.  a thirty pound naked lady up ahead in a wheelchair.  she looks lonely.  old.  “should I help her?”  i walk towards her.  i look around.  still nothing.  still nowhere.  i arrive at the wheelchair occupied by the naked thirty pound lady.  i kneel down in front of her and pray.  she kicks me in the face.  i swing my nine iron.  self defence. fourteen pit bulls attack me.  i scream but no one answers.  i run.  they run.  naked thirty pound lady in wheelchair dead.  one pit bull eats her.  the rest of the pit bulls chase me.  as i run i continue to swing my nine iron.  i call my potential boss and tell him that i am running late.  he tells me to “go fuck yourself.”  i throw my phone away.  one pit bull eats it.  i continue to run.  running towards my building.  BOOM.  BOOM.  BOOM.  BOOM.  my head is pounding.  pit bulls barking.  no one else around.  i run up the driveway.  thirteen black Bentley’s sit in the driveway.  sixty one strippers surround the cars.  thirteen pit bulls continue to chase me.  the other one still eating the naked thirty pound lady in a wheelchair.  huffing.  puffing.  i might blow the house down.  instead i start smashing all of the Bentley’s with my nine iron.  screaming everywhere.  dogs attacking.  world war four.  “have we had three yet?”  i should have paid attention to world history.  “FUCK ME!!!”  sirens.  dogs.  honking.  strippers with moustaches.  i spot a security guard.  he smiles.  i smile back.  he pulls down his pants and starts masturbating.  i give him a look of empathy and continue smashing vehicles and dogs.  the odd stripper too.  life is coming to an end but i will not go down lightly.  “DO SOMETHING JOHNNY!!!”  “I AM TRYING MARTY!!!”  “OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW”  i think i just twisted my ankle.  fall down.  dogs eat me.  security guard has an orgasm.  blood has covered the snow filled driveway.  life is cruel.  NOISE.  NOISE.  NOISE.  ALWAYS!!!

the cunt sat in the front row of the movie theatre and ate five pounds of double buttered popcorn and farted for two straight hours as she spoke on her glitzy pink fake cellphone.  she talked about nothing particularly interesting.  same shit.  boys.  parties.  bad movies.  hair colour.  bad music.  why are cunts so boring.  all she wants to do is get laid but she pretends she wants to find her true love.  FUCK HER…CUNT.  DUMB BITCHY FAT CUNT.  cunt farts again and then decides it might be a shit.  she waddles to the bathroom and sits on the can.  water runs from her ass.  brown water.  all the shit she has eaten for the past twenty four hours.  cunt wipes her ass with two pieces of two ply and then flushes the toilet.  it floods.  brown shitty water all over the floor.  cunt leaves.  doesn’t wash her hands.  who is her mother?  cunt waddles back to her seat in the theatre where she watches a shit movie and talks on her shitty phone.  she searches for her double buttered popcorn but it is now on the floor of the washroom.  it has turned into brown water.  cunt falls asleep.  she snores.  she wakes up and blows snot out of her nose onto the ground.  she then exits the building.  she just wasted twenty five dollars but she has no clue.  she just wants to find her true love.  as she walks she contemplates the lives of the Kardashians.  she wishes she could be just like Chloe Kardashian.  Fat and ugly.  facelifts can’t even help that cunt.  the cunt then ponders bigger issues…what should she do with her leopard skin thong that has blood on it?  should she donate them to charity.  what would Chloe do???  cunt then makes a big decision…all on her own.  she decides to go to the laundromat and wash her blood stained leopard skin panties.  she can now wear them again and perhaps get fucked so hard that she can tell her friends just how amazing little gerald is.  cunt wants to fuck.  pretends she wants real love.  cunt waddles by McDonald’s drive-thru and orders three big mac combos and a diet coke.  she grabs a magazine from the rack and looks at all the pretty sixteen year old skinny bitches and wants to be just like them.  she takes a big bite out of her big mac and then relaxes with a big smile on her face.  SHE JUST HAD HER FIRST ORGASM…CUNTS CAN BE HAPPY TOO.

tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock…the world is passing by.  coming closer to the end.  noises everywhere.  dirty smells and dirty people.  chaos ensues as Johnny leaves his house one last time.  he will never see his daughter grow up.  he is ailing and he doesn’t even know it.  eight hours left to live and he doesn’t know it.  nor does his beautiful wife and beautiful daughter.  he should have stayed home.  stayed in bed.  held his girls.  but he didn’t.  chasing the american dream.  constantly.  he enters his car.  his green car.  his smelly car.  ashtray filled with cigarette butts.  seats filled with cigarette holes.  he turns the ignition and the car starts.  he drives.  one last look back at his beautiful family.  his drive is filled with anxiety.  laughter.  sadness.  smiles.  seven hours and thirty minutes left.  forty five years of life coming to an end and he doesn’t even know it.  life is cruel.  he turns right.  he turns left.  he drives straight.  he yells at a cyclist.  he yells at an old lady with no shoes on.  he honks the horn at a one eyed panhandler.  music is getting louder.  sweating now.  Johnny is not looking good.  he goes through Timmies drive thru and orders a large double double and a breakfast sandwich.  he will never go through Timmies drive thru again.  many things final.  he pulls out of the drive thru and drives.  one hand on coffee.  the other on the wheel.  he eventually arrives at work.  he pulls up to the side entrance and parks his shitty green car.  He opens the door and gets out.  he tosses his finished double double in the garbage and quickly eats his breakfast sandwich.  HE DOESN’T WANT TO BE LATE FOR WORK!!!
  he walks in to the dirty building and says “HI” to the old unattractive secretary.  she has a big grin on her face.  he walks down the boring hallway and turns right.  he enters the bathrrom and looks under all the stalls.  he pulls down his pants and sits on the seat.  he pulls out his big penis and begins to stroke it.  stroke it.  stroke it.  stroke it.  stroke it.  he is sweating and panting.  Johnny hopes nobody will enter the washroom.  “ah…ah…ah…ah…ah…uh!!!”  he blows his load into his left hand and transfers it onto some white toilet paper and then tosses it into the empty toilet.  he looks under the other stalls one last time and exits.  doesn’t wash his hands.  he arrives at his office cubicle and sits down.  turns on his computer and checks facebook.  checks sports.  looks at his inbox.  back to facebook.  back to sports.  Johnny’s mind is racing but WHY???  he doesn’t know.  nor do his doctors.  nor does his wife or beautiful daughter.  Johnny is crazy but sane and funny.  bored.  he looks around and ponders life.  he thinks of the past.  good times.  bad times.  more good than bad.  sexual conquests.  arrests.  drunken nights.  blackouts.  threesomes.  fivesomes.  handsome men and handsome women.  some the same person.  he farts but nobdy notices.  nobody ever notices Johnny.  Johnny is lonely sometimes.  Johnny is going to die in four hours.  But who is Johnny?  and why is he sitting in a boring cubicle in a boring office in a boring city?  why did he just blow his load in the boring washroom stall?  too many questions?  nobody ever has answers.  Johnny continues.  he has placed his first call of the day.  REJECTION.  second call.  REJECTION.  back to facebook.  everybody’s lives are soooooo important.  Johnny goes to the kitchen in the office and looks in the fridge.  mouldy cheese and mouldy sardines.  he eats them both.  he turns around and for the first time in his life realizes that he will eventually die.  he also notices that he is the only one in his office.  what happened to the unattractive secretary???  Johnny walks and walks and walks.  he calls his wife.  no answer.  he looks on the computer.  there is nothing there.  he looks outside.  nothing.  he tries to jerk off again but can’t get hard.  he looks in the mirror and sees wrinkles.  dead eyes.  shrivelled up hair.  scratches.  lesions.  scars.  “HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!”  no one answers.  Johnny starts smashing the walls.  the windows.  the lights.  he finds a baseball bat.  it is signed by Doug Ault.  Johnny smiles.  he calmly walks around the office smashing everything in his way.  he is now naked.  bleeding.  screaming.  crying.  snot pouring out of his nose.  red snot.  everything is red.  water enters the building.  the floors are filled with red water.  “it’s okay Johnny.  you’re okay.”  “just breathe Johnny.  your parents are no longer here.”  “you will be fine Johnny.”  “life can be soo happy.  can’t it Johnny?”  the loudspeaker talks.  and talks.  and talks.  naked Johnny runs for the door.  locked.  “LET ME OUT!!!!  LET ME OUT!!!  LET ME OUT!!!”  “that’s a good boy Johnny.  that’s a good boy.”  red water is now flooding the whole building.  two hours left of Johnny’s life.  he is alone.  he is sad.  he is scared.  he asks for help but no one answers.  he begins to pee.  pee is red.  his once large penis is now shrivelled up and has cuts on it.  his once vibrant energy is now old and dull.  he screams again and once again no one listens.  he is shrivelling up fast and he cannot stop it.  the red water now up to Johnny’s neck.  blood everywhere.  the bat is floating away.  so is the pee.  he looks outside and sees beautiful trees.  beautiful sun.  emptiness.  now he sees two little children looking in the office window.  “HEEEEELP!!!”  they look in and smile.  then they wave and walk away.  the sun begins to set.  the two children are not visible anymore.  screaming kids and screaming wives and screaming parents and screaming soccer coaches and screaming hockey coaches and screaming teachers and screaming bosses.  everyone is now screaming but no one is there.  the red water has now reached the ceiling.  Johnny is sinking.  he looks peaceful now.  shrivelled up.  naked.  alone.