RINK WRITE-HERB SMITHERS

The Opium Den...

GIRL CHAT! EMAILS! HIGH-VOLTAGE STRIPPERS!

HIGH-WIRE STRIPPER (FROM THE SEATTLE TIMES):

IT WASN’T YOUR STANDARD TRAFFIC JAM WHEN A FIRE-SPITTING WOMAN DANCED TOPLESS ATOP A HIGH-VOLTAGE ELECTRICAL TOWER WEDNESDAY MORNING DURING DRIVE-TIME. ARIAl TRIPP, OF OLYMPIA, WORE A RED BANDANA, HALTER TOP, AND CUTOFF JEANS WHEN SHE CLIMBED THE TOWER. AT THE TOP, TRIP DOFFED HER TOP AND BEGAN GYRATING WHILE OCCASIONALLY SWIGGING VODKA FROM A BOTTLE, SPITTING OUT THE LIQUOR, AND IGNITING IT. TRIPP IS BEING HELD IN KING COUNTY JAIL ON CHARGES OF INDECENT EXPOSURE, PUBLIC INTOXICATION AND CRIMINAL TRESPASS.

GIRL CHAT (CHAT TEXT COURTESY OF A READER & HER RUSSIAN FRIEND):

Sasha: Joe is getting on my nerves.

Annie: Oh he is? That sucks.

Sasha: Yes, sucks much.

Annie: Why is he on your nerves?

Sasha: Who knows.

Annie: Maybe you just don't dig him that much and that’s it.

Sasha: Yes, that could be thing that gets on my nerves.

Annie: Well if he irritates you dump him… unless you want more sex.

Sasha: I am not sure any more. I want more romance.

Sasha: And he is just a fucker, that is all it is.

Annie: You mean just a fuck, not just a fucker. But hey, fucking is not bad!

Sasha: There is nothing to talk about with him. I could talk with Mike for hours.

Annie: Yes, dear, but Mike is over.

Sasha: And this prick just doesn't say anything.

Annie: Did Mike have a talking prick???

Sasha: He talked when he fuck.

Annie: What did he say?

Sasha: Oh my God.

Annie: Hahahahahaha.

Sasha: All kind of weird stuff.

Annie: Like what? Come on, tell me!

Sasha: It is just dirty talk. I don't like that.

Annie: Well give me some examples.

Sasha: Just dirty talk like, do you like to have my cock inside of you? Do you want to cum on my cock?

Annie: Doesn't he know for sure?

Sasha: It drive me crazy.

Annie: Lots of people do it.

Sasha: I don't like that. I don’t get what men want.

Annie: What men want how?

Sasha: Sex.

Annie: Well, in general they want bi-sexual girls with foul mouths who will masturbate in front of them with sex toys.

Sasha: Oh my God!

Sasha: I’ve never used a sex toy. I don’t like them.

Annie: What’s not to like? You know, I bought you a vibrator for Christmas as a surprise, but then we had that fight, and I decided not to give it to you.

Sasha: Well I was pissed at you.

Annie: That's why I kept it. And I was pissed too.... so I used the vibrator on myself, and then I wasn't pissed anymore.

Sasha: Besides, they are not common in Russia.

Annie: Are you kidding! Half the porn and sex toys come from Russia now.

Sasha: Well we’re all a free country now.

Annie: See? God bless democracy!

DOCTOR AMPUTATES WRONGLY-AGAIN (FROM THE GULF HERALD):

FLORIDA HAS SUSPENDED THE LICENSE OF A DOCTOR WHO AMPUTATED A WOMAN’S TOE WITHOUT HER CONSENT, FIVE MONTHS AFTER REMOVING THE WRONG LEG FROM ANOTHER PATIENT. IN THE FIRST INCIDENT, DR. ROLANDO SANCHEZ WAS TO AMPUTATE THE RIGHT LEG OF A PATIENT WITH CIRCULATORY DISEASE, BUT INSTEAD SEVERED THE PATIENT’S LEFT LEG. THE SECOND INCIDENT OCCURRED WHEN SANCHEZ REMOVED THE TOE OF A PATIENT WHO WAS SCHEDULED TO SIMPLY HAVE SOME DEAD TISSUE REMOVED FROM HER FOOT. SANCHEZ DENIED AMPUTATING THE TOE, AND INSTEAD STATED THAT “IT HAD FALLEN OFF”.

THE SECRET ADMIRER (AN EMAIL SENT FROM MY SISTER, BRANCH MANAGER AT BANK):

When I came back from lunch today my assistant told me there had been an attempted delivery for me, but they were instructed not to leave it unless I was actually there, so they would try again later that day. When I asked what it was, she said she didn’t know, but that the box was big and she saw a Pro Flowers label on it. How excited I was to wonder who might be sending me flowers! Could it be my ex, just wanting to let me know that his life had turned into a living hell without me? Could it be that commercial client… single, owns a million dollar business, and is hot, hot, hot… who always makes it a point to stop by my office to chat!?

So I was in a great mood all afternoon… anxiously awaiting the flowers, my stomach in knots with excitement. Could they be a dozen roses? What color, I wondered? Red, pink, white? Hell, if the box was as big as I was told, maybe there were two dozen roses in a glorious mix of colors! Not even my pain in the ass employees could put me in a bad mood with their whining right then!

1:00, 2:00… I kept looking out the window for the delivery truck. The flowers finally arrive at about 3:00. Heart pounding, I quickly rip open the box… inside are 12 beautiful long-stem red roses! Smiling away, I then open the card. My jaw drops. No, they were not from my ex. And not from my commercial hot, hot, hot, client. My smile vanishes. They were from this guy who has had a crush on me for years, and comes in every week to deposit his so called “paycheck” (current account balance… $349). Oh, and did I mention that he only has use of one arm and that the other one dangles like a flipper? What a fucking bitch I was the rest of the day… not to mention fucking DEPRESSED.

DEAD MAN RIDING IN ‘CADDY (FROM THE AUSTIN CHRONICLE):

SAM BROWNING’S DYING REQUEST WAS TO RIDE IN HIS BABY BLUE CADILLAC CONVERTIBLE TO HIS NEPHEW’S CREMATORIUM IN CALIFORNIA. SO THE DAY AFTER BROWNING DIED, HIS SON AND GRANDSON STRAPPED SAM’S EMBALMED BODY INTO THE BACKSEAT OF THE CAR AND DROVE FROM AUSTIN TO VICTORVILLE, CALIFORNIA. THEY WERE STOPPED AT THE CALIFORNIA STATE LINE BY A BORDER GUARD, WHO “LOOKED AT MY DADDY, AND SAID, ‘HOW YOU DOING, SIR?’ I TOLD HIM, ‘OH, DADDY’S BEEN SLEEPING SINCE WE LEFT TEXAS”. THE GUARD SAID, “WELL, HE IS SURE SLEEPING SOUND”, AND THEN WAVED THEM ON.

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