(no subject)
I read this essay at the comedy magazine meeting. It got bombed on a level I would compare with Dresden, but that's me. I like to think they didn't get it...................................................ha!
Notes of a Condemned Man
The victim viciously stated her case, “That man…that man there! He used…used a metro card and…and…” The CDE, judge and jury to me, sympathized, “We understand, but do you believe he had malicious intent?” “Yes, yes, I do believe he did,” as she looked to the floor in disgust. Her slender bulimic body convulsed in a fit of tears, if only to cover the spittle escaping down her chin.
A barrage of judgment from an imaginary crowd befell my slouching stature further pushing me away from the civilized society I once knew.
“You make me sick!”
“Preying on the innocent!”
“How could you!”
“She is your neighbor!”
The CDE shifted in his chair. His mind had already decided my fate, but one in his position of authority is required to listen to both sides, if only to follow procedure.
“Is her statement true?”
He really means:
“Make it quick, I’ve got a lunch at two o’clock.”
I looked up and decide to at least offer a defense.
“Well, it all started when…”
Then, his annoying, little dog attacked my leg. The mini Doberman could smell the stench of my guilty aura. I should have said that damn dog drove me to do it.
“We were in the hall…um, could you maybe, please, get him to stop?”
The dog had obviously caught the scent of malicious intent and malicious intent hit some sort of hidden fetish because now the dog had mounted my leg. A moment of silence passed. The girl stifled her belittling scoff with more tears. The judge stared down. He was not amused.
“Can’t you just continue?”
I have never been a particularly picky person, so I did “just continue.”
I apologized and tried to make sincere the regret I should have felt. My real regret was only in being caught. My audience must have already assumed this fact for they barely let me finish my pitiful defense, dog and all.
The CDE turned to his paper work, deliberating my punishment, no doubt. While his back was turned, the “victim” looked at me and mouthed “you are soooooo dead,” through the crocodile tears running down her face. I wanted to cry because it suddenly felt as though the whole world hated me.
Judge and jury sternly turned back and stared into my eyes,
“I, CDE of New York City’s Rubin Hall, therefore represent the residents of New York University’s Rubin Hall…..”
I didn’t listen, since I already knew the rest.
“Hereby find the defendant, Alexander Lee to have a character consisting of no morality or sense of human essence…and a dirty, Satan worshiping Jew as well.”
The trial was over, my punishment set. A few last cordial words were spoken,
“Do you have any last words?”
I only shook my head in shame.
“Very well then, blah blah blahdidy blah blah…”
I didn’t say a thing, because it wouldn’t have done any good. In my head, however, I thought up a whole speech those monkeys deserved to hear.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for my wrongful actions. I am the bastard who used a metro card to break into a room in order to impress a girl. The girl doesn’t even like me, and quite possibly regrets ever meeting me. She said she needed a blender to mix drinks for her roommate’s birthday. The “victim” had offered her a blender for the night. I offered up my shameful talent after knocking on the door provided no response.
I opened the door in no time, and it was a shock to see the “victim” lying on the bed watching the latest VH1 countdown. It was more of a shock to feel the wafting breeze of marijuana smoke blow through my hair, but I did not pass judgment. I, myself, had partaken in the consumption of a few narcotic tequila shooters that very same night. We are only human, animals, hairless apes with an excessive brain capacity, thrown into a cruel world beyond our comprehension, and therefore corruptible. This is not the Garden of Eden, damn it. Have not all of us sinned? We are not g-d!
When I look back on the incident, I can only imagine the paranoid state which my knocking put upon the poor stoner--I’m sorry “victim”--; struggling to find a hiding place for a three foot, multicolored bong, defy her wicked buzz only to answer a knocking she quite possibly mistook for a tasty pizza. I can only fathom the harrowing journey of someone wacky on the tobacky rising above all odds to turn away from the television, get up out of a comfy bed, walk past an assortment of candy, chips, and microwavable goods only to answer a door. What kind of sick and twisted person could do such a thing? Who am I to demand such an inhumane task?
Nonetheless, the three of us stood, frozen in fear. My accomplice made the bold move to contact my future accuser, who gladly retrieved the blender for our use in the birthday bash. Only later did the “victim” choose to report my heinously sinful actions. This is the story of my fall, which has been told with such brutal honesty so that this poor schmuck might be able to lift some guilt off his chest and redeem his black, black heart. I can now only hope to laugh at my accusers as they pass their unwarranted justice.”
Fuck you ______.
Fuck you for being a stoned fag hag.
Fuck you and the echo between your cum filled thighs.
Notes of a Condemned Man
The victim viciously stated her case, “That man…that man there! He used…used a metro card and…and…” The CDE, judge and jury to me, sympathized, “We understand, but do you believe he had malicious intent?” “Yes, yes, I do believe he did,” as she looked to the floor in disgust. Her slender bulimic body convulsed in a fit of tears, if only to cover the spittle escaping down her chin.
A barrage of judgment from an imaginary crowd befell my slouching stature further pushing me away from the civilized society I once knew.
“You make me sick!”
“Preying on the innocent!”
“How could you!”
“She is your neighbor!”
The CDE shifted in his chair. His mind had already decided my fate, but one in his position of authority is required to listen to both sides, if only to follow procedure.
“Is her statement true?”
He really means:
“Make it quick, I’ve got a lunch at two o’clock.”
I looked up and decide to at least offer a defense.
“Well, it all started when…”
Then, his annoying, little dog attacked my leg. The mini Doberman could smell the stench of my guilty aura. I should have said that damn dog drove me to do it.
“We were in the hall…um, could you maybe, please, get him to stop?”
The dog had obviously caught the scent of malicious intent and malicious intent hit some sort of hidden fetish because now the dog had mounted my leg. A moment of silence passed. The girl stifled her belittling scoff with more tears. The judge stared down. He was not amused.
“Can’t you just continue?”
I have never been a particularly picky person, so I did “just continue.”
I apologized and tried to make sincere the regret I should have felt. My real regret was only in being caught. My audience must have already assumed this fact for they barely let me finish my pitiful defense, dog and all.
The CDE turned to his paper work, deliberating my punishment, no doubt. While his back was turned, the “victim” looked at me and mouthed “you are soooooo dead,” through the crocodile tears running down her face. I wanted to cry because it suddenly felt as though the whole world hated me.
Judge and jury sternly turned back and stared into my eyes,
“I, CDE of New York City’s Rubin Hall, therefore represent the residents of New York University’s Rubin Hall…..”
I didn’t listen, since I already knew the rest.
“Hereby find the defendant, Alexander Lee to have a character consisting of no morality or sense of human essence…and a dirty, Satan worshiping Jew as well.”
The trial was over, my punishment set. A few last cordial words were spoken,
“Do you have any last words?”
I only shook my head in shame.
“Very well then, blah blah blahdidy blah blah…”
I didn’t say a thing, because it wouldn’t have done any good. In my head, however, I thought up a whole speech those monkeys deserved to hear.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for my wrongful actions. I am the bastard who used a metro card to break into a room in order to impress a girl. The girl doesn’t even like me, and quite possibly regrets ever meeting me. She said she needed a blender to mix drinks for her roommate’s birthday. The “victim” had offered her a blender for the night. I offered up my shameful talent after knocking on the door provided no response.
I opened the door in no time, and it was a shock to see the “victim” lying on the bed watching the latest VH1 countdown. It was more of a shock to feel the wafting breeze of marijuana smoke blow through my hair, but I did not pass judgment. I, myself, had partaken in the consumption of a few narcotic tequila shooters that very same night. We are only human, animals, hairless apes with an excessive brain capacity, thrown into a cruel world beyond our comprehension, and therefore corruptible. This is not the Garden of Eden, damn it. Have not all of us sinned? We are not g-d!
When I look back on the incident, I can only imagine the paranoid state which my knocking put upon the poor stoner--I’m sorry “victim”--; struggling to find a hiding place for a three foot, multicolored bong, defy her wicked buzz only to answer a knocking she quite possibly mistook for a tasty pizza. I can only fathom the harrowing journey of someone wacky on the tobacky rising above all odds to turn away from the television, get up out of a comfy bed, walk past an assortment of candy, chips, and microwavable goods only to answer a door. What kind of sick and twisted person could do such a thing? Who am I to demand such an inhumane task?
Nonetheless, the three of us stood, frozen in fear. My accomplice made the bold move to contact my future accuser, who gladly retrieved the blender for our use in the birthday bash. Only later did the “victim” choose to report my heinously sinful actions. This is the story of my fall, which has been told with such brutal honesty so that this poor schmuck might be able to lift some guilt off his chest and redeem his black, black heart. I can now only hope to laugh at my accusers as they pass their unwarranted justice.”
Fuck you ______.
Fuck you for being a stoned fag hag.
Fuck you and the echo between your cum filled thighs.