My People.
I know some strange people. Very strange people. Don't know why I am writing about these people tonight when I need to be going to bed. But well, my thoughts are on all them tonight so I figured I will inflict them on you tonight. Maybe once I have vented them I can catch a few winks. If not, then fuck'em.
First there's Smith. He is a harsh bastard but you will always know what's really on his mind. But that's why people like him - its a no bullshit zone. Of course she will cut you to, she likes knives and the color deep red, sometimes if there is enough of it she giggles. He's also a coward that likes to play with matches and an asshole with a guns fetish. His friends can count on him, but it scares people when they think he might be trustworthy.
Next comes Patches. Patches likes to be other people. Peelinga away little pieces of them and dressing up his mug like a ragdoll in tatters. but while he likes to be people, he loves to hurt'em more. Its a toss-up what really gets his rocks off. He leeches the life right out of you, then when you feel like there's only a husk left, when your soul has been pulled right to the edge of hell, he kicks you over it like a whipped dog. Probably gives the little kids nightmares in their beds just for a quick thrill.
There's always The Doc. The most self-involved jack-ass a bastard could ever stumble across. He loves booze more than any thing has a right to. Worked a good job for a good boss, made enough doe to choke a horse, then pissed it all away on whores and heroine. At least that's what people claimed were his real addictions. Well the addictions you could mention in polite company. No one liked to talk about the puppies and kittens. Or the lonely little girl he showed them to one night. Just not something they talk about anyore.
Not everyone is complete scum. The Fatman is good people. And he knows good people. Can't run worth shit, but he once jumped a truck in a single leap and shattered the pavement when he landed. Shattered the spine of Old Willy too, caught him under the right heel. That's why Willy wants the Fatman. Also why Willy's not done anything about it yet. Afterall, no body takes a swing at the Fatman, not with Little Edna around. They say every Christmas the Fatman fixes up a pile of cookies and leaves them for the Barrow Street Orphans.
There are more. Always more. Black Jake, Iron Mike, Injun Jane, the Russo sisters - those bitches will love you to death and eat your heart out. But I am feeling a little more sleepy now.
Guess I just had to get them out the door for a few hours.
They might be assholes. They might not make for the best parties. But damnit, they were mine once. And they made me smile.
First there's Smith. He is a harsh bastard but you will always know what's really on his mind. But that's why people like him - its a no bullshit zone. Of course she will cut you to, she likes knives and the color deep red, sometimes if there is enough of it she giggles. He's also a coward that likes to play with matches and an asshole with a guns fetish. His friends can count on him, but it scares people when they think he might be trustworthy.
Next comes Patches. Patches likes to be other people. Peelinga away little pieces of them and dressing up his mug like a ragdoll in tatters. but while he likes to be people, he loves to hurt'em more. Its a toss-up what really gets his rocks off. He leeches the life right out of you, then when you feel like there's only a husk left, when your soul has been pulled right to the edge of hell, he kicks you over it like a whipped dog. Probably gives the little kids nightmares in their beds just for a quick thrill.
There's always The Doc. The most self-involved jack-ass a bastard could ever stumble across. He loves booze more than any thing has a right to. Worked a good job for a good boss, made enough doe to choke a horse, then pissed it all away on whores and heroine. At least that's what people claimed were his real addictions. Well the addictions you could mention in polite company. No one liked to talk about the puppies and kittens. Or the lonely little girl he showed them to one night. Just not something they talk about anyore.
Not everyone is complete scum. The Fatman is good people. And he knows good people. Can't run worth shit, but he once jumped a truck in a single leap and shattered the pavement when he landed. Shattered the spine of Old Willy too, caught him under the right heel. That's why Willy wants the Fatman. Also why Willy's not done anything about it yet. Afterall, no body takes a swing at the Fatman, not with Little Edna around. They say every Christmas the Fatman fixes up a pile of cookies and leaves them for the Barrow Street Orphans.
There are more. Always more. Black Jake, Iron Mike, Injun Jane, the Russo sisters - those bitches will love you to death and eat your heart out. But I am feeling a little more sleepy now.
Guess I just had to get them out the door for a few hours.
They might be assholes. They might not make for the best parties. But damnit, they were mine once. And they made me smile.
posted by Phil M. at 11:45 PM
3 Comments:
I've heard of most of them before.
Of course you have heard of most of them Simpleton. Your one of the stranger characters I know. Not quite as dark as a few, but you know of them. A couple are newer, the rest were keeping them company.
Just needed to shake out a few moths before catching a bit of rest.
very interesting the way you write about them...your choice of words....i'd love to see some more writing about the ones you didn't mention.
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