For Every Tib and Tom Cat


dilluns

back from the old carousing






... it was getting dark when we were heading back from the concert... stranded now... after being dropped by the drunk nitwits... and neither Elzi nor I with a penny left... we decided to hit the road and hitch a ride...



a truck stopped to take us... but the guys inside refused to take us both... one is all we can handle, they said, you both look like trouble... I told Elzi to get in... I said: I'll wait for the next sucker... we'll meet back home...



so she went with the two truckers... and I waited, and another truck stopped and the two guys inside took me in with them...



it happens every time... you hitch a ride with those fellows, they will fuck you... we were not properly raped... so tired... after the excitement... the jumping, the quarreling... we knew what we were in for... we actually felt like it... we always do... at least I do, in those occasions... sexy... and then yes, I was ready for a bit of action... felt like having the... delicacy stroked... a bit of getting the skittish pussy appeased... a bit of the good going...



you practically never feel like being raped... not a bit... raping... not a bit, no... a bit of rough treatment, rough and nice... that's ok, fine... goes with the territory... but generally this... just the tickling down there made less... less itchy... and the fact was that... I didn't really know about Elzi at the time... but normally she's friskier, randier, than me... so... so, she probably was also eager to get... to be given the right cunt treatment... the worshiped cunt, that object of adoration, being rained over by the mists and the dews of the worshipful eyes, eyelets, of the one-eyed, monophtalmic, shapely little totems... I mean... the intriguing worshipers propitiating the niggling gadfly guarding with its magical key the entrance to the temple... some masterly thrusts are in order... that's the image...



anyway, my guys, my truckers, weren't what you'd call totally unbecoming... one of them... even somewhat fetching...



while one drove, the other one drove his drill home...cramming his tool... his screwdriver driving a beautiful releasing thankfully long-lastingly enough screw...



the problem was later... the long drive... night all dark in front... downtown still a long ways off...



one of the fuckers sleeping peacefully behind... me blinking, winking with sleep... wishing myself awake in case we missed the right place for me to stop and disembark... and then the guy at the wheel... starting to talk... a sinister tone... a creepy feeling crawling up my bruised spine...



and him somber... darker by the minute... and starting to rant, with a hollow voice... frightening now, really... a nightmare of sorts...



he once killed all his family... the wife, the kids... driven crazy by the night driving... truckers prone to such agonizing breakdowns... of course: all the terrors seen during the night... the specters, the accidents, the dead... the dead crushed... splattered into so many pieces of torn flesh...



and then the apparition... middle of the road... over all the mincemeat, the cadavers... an overpowering foul smell... the rotten archer... blind... his skin in tatters... the caverns instead of his eyes full of pus, oozing, a green rot... his teeth a shambles... the quiver slashed, punctured... the arrow splintered... pointing straight at the eyes of the nocturnal driver... you've got to become crazy, if you have any sense, if you are sane at all...



he arrived home... in the middle of a hurricane... trees uprooted, shutters flying about, babies smashed against the walls, rabbit cages colliding into each other... lost in a vortex of screams... a maelstrom of crossed purposes, frustrations... a raging battle of crossed wills and winds... somebody coming down the stairs... he shouted over the din... I won't be a night driver no more...!



he took his rage on all of them... the kids... the wife... tossed them into the storm... see how it is, driving by night... the constant carnage... the constant carnage... the constant carn...



he, the driver, the trucker-fucker fell on the wheel, his countenance one of utter despair...



hear me screeching... worse than the tires on the dead pavement... see me trouncing him out of the way... me pulling the breaks... the truck madly skidding...



I want out, I want out... my voice, hysterical... the sleeper waking up in a panic...



pounding me out of the way... managing to open the door... kicking now the suicidal fucker out of the truck altogether... and now him... the providential substitute choking the wheel... battling the inertia... the momentum... what have you... we were about to fall... the truck about to tumble down... there is... there is... what...? one can't see shit...



and now the shock... the guy stunned... the vehicle dead... the doors stuck... I'm aware of everything but can't really move... the oppression unbearable...



the apparition then... I saw her... it... the rotten archer... the rusted arrow aiming at the center of my forehead...



there was Elzi visiting me, at the hospital bed... as ever, kind to a fault... we kissed... damned fuckers, we said, bad guys, they don't want only your cunt... they almost took a life that time... are they ever really satisfied...?



Never so well

Never so well
nyac!

Inosculated

Inosculated
anyocs de nyacs!

who the 'ell?

La meva foto
C.R. Morell his paltry efforts,

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