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Expat Press Forums => Lit => Topic started by: bibles on May 15, 2018, 08:45:33 PM

Title: bibles study
Post by: bibles on May 15, 2018, 08:45:33 PM
I have moved on to the realm of parenthood where the carpet smells like urine, and it is my wife's job to take care of it.
Title: bibles study
Post by: bibles on May 15, 2018, 08:46:43 PM
We tried getting it cleaned a second time in the same amount of days, but she can still smell it with every sniff that she takes.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: Sprague Dawley on May 16, 2018, 04:58:09 PM
Diapers mate, you need to swaddle the little fuckwits in diapers. That's Parenting 101. Left to their own devices it's just gonna be impromptu fountains and trickling tinkerfalls and babbling brooks all over the fucekn shop.

Cat piss, now there's a stinker. Wife bought a flash new $400 rug a few years back, and on the first fucking day, one of the shithead cats here pissed all over the cunt. In the bin it goes. Thanks, wanker. We enjoyed a couple of precious hours of flash rug time. Cats are such wankers piss-wise. I hate them. 
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on May 27, 2018, 12:38:58 PM
The babies have diapers on. It's the previous tenants. They had a little dog, I guess. Supposedly they had it for nine months. That's all it takes. The black light proves it. It was a battle with the landlady, but they're scheduled to come in and replace the carpet. My wife just couldn't take it. She's always down on the floor, and so is the baby. I'm there too, but I've smoked a lot more cigarettes than both of them combined, so it doesn't bother me as much. It will be nice, however, having the place feel even that much fresher. I'd say that we could probably stay here for at least two years. If we stay here for over one year, then my wife can start working, and we will remain on the low income subsidy rate. So, I guess that's the plan; however, I know that come about that time, my wife is going to want me to give her a second child. We've discussed this already. It's true what they say: relationships really can be like prisons. You know though that it's not the worst thing in the world. The prison is a little time machine, flying towards heaven, being heaven contained. It's me and this damn writing that's the problem. I am the one with the need to keep on planting Hell. I'm bringing devils with me into the bright light of this brand new day, and it's looking more and more like night with every second - writing or no.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on May 27, 2018, 11:28:47 PM
I've been getting a little more in though recently. I've even got a desk. All it is is a shelf that folds down from a bookshelf that we picked up from our previous apartment's free zone. The plan is that I can work here, cataloging books. I've got to make at least twenty dollars though before I can really get to work, and I'm not going to get there fast enough through the stock market alone. Not even if I play options. I need to keep all of the money that I make in the market in the market. I need some sure fire bets. 

The plan that I am currently harboring is to sell my Playstation 3. I plan to post it on Let Go. I'm thinking $80. That will get me three months of internet service, but I can also use the money to purchase merchandise. A little bit of both, obviously. That's the plan. I've got to get this side hustle into gear. I'm not trying to be capitalistic, but if I plan on keeping diapers on the baby(s) then I'm going to need to be able to write my own checks.

I've got to overtake the place that I'm at. My paychecks will benefit each other until the check that I'm getting from the bookshop will be minimal enough to drop off. It just won't be worth it. There's the writing also. Let's not forget about that. Can you imagine if that was the main maker in my portfolio? Oh God... Don't even get me started. It's gotten me this far. Can you believe it? I'll approach my wife with the open tab. Look babe, I'm right back where I started from.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on May 28, 2018, 11:20:31 PM
The cords were missing, so I ended up throwing the PS3 in the kitchen trash can. I also had all of these laptops that I brought with me to my parents' house. I'd been dragging them through my whole life. I thought, "these are my typewriters." "These are the things that a currentivist sells." But look at me now. I had my brother-in-law break into their bottoms. He handed me the storage units, and I took my dad's drill, and I bore into them. One of the laptops had a very swollen battery. My brother-in-law told me that I should really recycle it. I think that I ended up leaving the box of lifeless husks there at their house. I just wanted to dump it in the dumpster.

I told them that I planned on selling books my own. I need to get this twenty five dollars together. That's what it actually is: 25. More than I had even thought. It's not like I have anything to sell right now though. Nothing but the Lynd Ward. I doubt I'm going to be having a lot of takers on the signed Meloy. Not right away anyways, judging by what they're doing at our shop. It's a race to the bottom. I'm going to have to undercut the shop at every turn. I don't know what I'm going to do about shipping. I could sneak in and package things after-hours, but do that enough time, and you're bound to get caught.

Anything though. I'm going to this school. I've still got to fill out my final scholarship. I've got to take these classes. Learning the trade is the most important thing for me to do right now. Better to sail with a moody good captain than a laughing bad one. That's what the board book says. My baby's taking her first steps. She hasn't gotten any poo or pee on the carpet here. She did spill the coffee, and I picked her up and threw her onto the ground. My father-in-law was watching. So was my wife. My father-in-law wrote me a supportive message today, telling me that these are the things that we learn from, but all that I want to hear from him is what stock he got for me inviting him to Robinhood. I haven't told him the one that he got me: Chesepeak Energy. He still has to check his bank for the small deposits. He can't really use the app yet.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on May 29, 2018, 11:47:11 PM
Chesepeak Energy. It's the one that he got too. That's weird, I thought, and he thought that maybe everyone you invite gets the same stock as you, but I know that's not true because I've invited a good share of people now. My mother-in-law wouldn't join because the requirement of entering your social security. Violence joined for a quick second before determining that it wasn't for her, as pretty much nothing in this life is: lesbianism, jobs, the outside world, what have you. There's my coworker Estelle. My dad and my brother-in-law, who haven't joined, and I don't have the most hope of them doing so, but I invited them.

Even still, I'm hard in the hole. I'm deep down there. GE took it out of me. The Lord took it out of GE. That fucking CEO. People's stupid, ignorant and idiotic reactions. Italy, who gives a flying fuck. I wouldn't have even heard about their problems had it not been for the stock market. I held on as long as I could. They really pushed me out. Once I was gone, it was like people were saying, alright guys, get back in the pool. Jonah is in the whale and we are safe again. He sunk the ship low enough so that our gimpy ass, cheating legs could hop on at his ultimate low point. I guess this really is rock bottom for me at this point, or at least it's the lowest that I've ever been. I still have sixty dollars in my account. I didn't let my poor cock die.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on May 30, 2018, 11:21:58 PM
I've got twenty bucks that says Chesepeak Energy is going to fall. That's the thing about options: up, down, or sideways, the market is yours to make moves within. I've got to pull out of that deal though. The mentors that I've been watching have told me that a person shouldn't invest over five percent in any single deal, and twenty dollars is like one third of what I've got left. If it goes my direction tomorrow morning, all the better. I'll get out with some head on the offer; if it goes down, lord bless me that I can pull out and not have to fight the sinking anchor all the way burning through my wallet.

I've got to put into these deals only what I can stand to lose. There's a maximum on how much that is. It's always right there in front of me. I'm just praying that this Chesapeak deal is going my way in the morning... I'm getting tired of losing money. Manwell blessed the market in my favor, but it seemed facetious. Not at the depths that I needed. If he was really trying to help me, he'd join up. That would give me another five dollars. That kind of thing shows up on your bottom line. Any of you can join, if you want. So long as you're not in Ireland, or Canada, or some other foreign country. Just be in the U.S. Help a brother out. Your unreliable narrator here, in this corner. Forget about all of the others for a second. I know that I can be a cunt. That's what Manwell says. My ball skin drips down like labia lips. I'm an ivory tower wife. I go to work. I do what I can to board the ship that's coming in. I've got a book on the way. It's published by that guy that I'm talking about, the one who paid for all of our drinks. He who set the space up that I'm writing in now, always on the verge of a swift goodbye, like I'm Roseanne and he's my Wanda Sykes.

He doesn't like me very much. I'm not even the only book on his coffee table. I'll hear about it later. I can't keep my lips shut. I've got the lowest hanging fruit that I've ever heard of. That probably has something to do with it.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on May 31, 2018, 11:16:45 PM
and for what reason do I come here? You know, that's something that a cunt would say. That's what I think, and I'm not the only one. I've lost on all of my deals, but I did pull out of the Chesepeak one on an even keel. twenty for twenty, that's what I always say. I don't know if that has anything to do with intrinsic and extrinsic value, but they're telling me that options are not as risky as stocks are. All I know is that I can control the market with much less in my bank account. I'm, like, at fifty-five at this point. I shouldn't make any deals over five dollars and fifty cents. I would really love to see something go my way.

I've got a bed though, and my wife is lying in it. I know who that would make jealous. She's got breast pumps on, and I'm not here to battle. I let her pop my nose in exchange for she is going to "kiss my penis" as they call it. We got in the shower and everything. I used a loofa. The soap is blue raspberry flavor. I told her it would be like a raspberry popsicle. It's not cold, but it is sexy. You suck it hard enough, I told her, and you'll find out that we're dealing with cream stuffed raspberries. She'd hate that. Hasn't ever liked it any of the times that I've let loose. She did let me give her facials for a short while, but then some got in her eye, and it made her eye red for most of the day. She hasn't let me do it since.

There's also the matter of hair. Any gets in there, and you know how it goes. I had an old good friend. You might say that he was my best friend, but we both thought that this other guy was both of our best friend. That guy's name was Atlas. This guy's name is Jack. Well, he told me about how he masturbated in the tub, and it got all over him. It stuck in his body hair, and he couldn't get it out.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on June 01, 2018, 11:28:42 PM
That's where I'm at right now with the way that my thoughts are going. I mean, let's be honest with how many people I'm interacting with right now. I understand my place; that's what you might not understand about me.

My boss' mom just died. We got an email from him tonight. He was a real tyrant earlier. He was shoveling shit onto my desk, expecting me to deal with the problem that he didn't notice or care about until it got in the way of his doing something that he had wanted to do. He'd started shoveling the shit during my lunch the other day. That's when I pulled out my headphones and turned on an options course. I'm learning so much, but it's all meaningless until I start seeing some profit. I'm worried that there's not enough in my account to have any beneficial results, but we'll see. There's got to be a way, right?

I'm not going to talk about what the toddler or infant of whatever she is did or didn't do, but I will tell you that we just rolled into my wife and my anniversary, and here I am talking to you, wondering if I wrote that the right way.

Doesn't matter, says the accountant in my head; and all I know is that I signed my nickname to a card, telling her that I'd like another kid, because it's our anniversary and she spotted that fact that I'd forgotten. I don't know what's wrong with me. Retarded: it's my best guess. Autistic. On the spectrum. It's what makes me so amazing with words. That's something that my sister might say, but I don't know who around these parts would believe her were there anybody around these parts at all: this glass case of me, monitored by my captor. No hope of escape. Cunting it up. The belief in myself is the key. I'll tell you that much because I might not be McClanahan's Bukowski, but weren't we talking about killing our Henrys? So don't sit here and tell me that I'm Celine, even though I'd love it just about more than anything. Roseanne Barr having her hometown here, and I'm just hoping that she comes into my bookstore though of course I'd have to play it double agent as my coworkers, the one especially whom I hope just ups and leaves so that I can have her upper story desk, kicks her out.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on June 02, 2018, 11:54:48 PM
That's why they call me the onslaught: the way I plow through things, putting up the blinders, dedicating all of my energy into getting something done. The way it works though is that I bash into things, check the results, make the learned adjustments, and then I go back in. Once I've got a barrier destroyed, so long as the motivation remains, I plow the fields. I reap my rewards. I'm the best indesign user at my shop. I'm the only one. Everybody else uses Word. I hate that. It's not what Word is meant for. Indesign is meant for making catalogs. In the end, I've got the advantage over them. I hand the draft over to Jamie-Beth for editing, using the opportunity to hone her knowledge. I combine that with my growing skills, and I'm well on my way to holding respect in this community of collectors.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on August 22, 2018, 10:18:07 PM
My name is Cameron. Okay, I just want everybody to know that. I've got a wife, a child, a dog, and a vengeful therapist who lost her mind after I told her that her more successful client is nothing but a baby boy who sucks dicks for nickles. That doesn't mean that I want to draw his attention my way. These spoiled children, force fed noise music and fiber internet, scare me to death. I'm an internet entity latched to these human connections that are attached to me by my vitals: my heart; my loins; all of my dirty secrets: the way that I can fart in front of them - my baby farting in her diaper, no problem, no reaction - I'm just sure that it feels good; how could it not?

I'm farting with my ass in the air. That's the way that it goes when I'm doing my nightly workout. It's a thirty day program. I'd like to call it a regiment. I'm sure that I could get away with it. I'd have to look up the definition, but I'm not going to. I'm lazy. That's what they say about the best writers. Humble hacks. Those who know, show; and it doesn't matter how much they jingle their beans: they are judged on their works. It's an ab thing. Get rid of the flab. I look in the mirror, and I look stupid, round, short, stout. I don't know where I am. I don't know what I've become. I am a dad now. Told you that already. That plus the therapist. I mean, I don't pay her or anything, so what can you expect? It doesn't make sense having an insane therapist. "Well it doesn't help having a terrible friend either!" she yells. 

She's always said that she likes my beard, I say, tugging at the whiskers of my mustache, which have grown down and out over my upper lip. I tuck up my smile, and I look like a drain struggling to swallow after a dog's been shaved. Not me though. What I need to do is pop the vibrator and cut straight. You know me though: I'm lazy. Told you once, and I'll tell you again. At this point, it's shame on you. I'm just trying to get by. She's saying that I look like such an adult now, but I'm thinking that back before I was a dad, I looked better. It was like I was in anime or a boy band. My teeth were big, my jaw was full, I had sharp cheeks. I was a hunk. How do you think that I got married? It's the secret to success. You've got to control your physicality spiritually. I've let myself go. Simple as that. This workout plan: it's purgatory. I'm burning off my sin. I've got to hold it together. I don't want to be a one hit wonder. I've got work to do. I've got some green to make. This birthday, I'm asking for a vaporizer. Wish I could get it sooner, but I've got to have patience. I've tasted heaven. I am an assassin. It's hard work that will lift me to the clouds. I've got to put in my time. It's of the essence. Currentivism is time sensitive. We use it to our advantage. It's a grand part of the narrative. It's a character in my story. I love time. Why can't it treat me with some respect? Why doesn't anybody?

I'm not here to complain though. I just wanted to bitch about my therapist. I don't have a therapist to bitch to anyways anymore.
Title: a
Post by: bibles on August 23, 2018, 08:40:19 PM
I'm just being paranoid. That's what I keep telling myself, sitting in my living room, the boards up, an unloaded shotgun in my hands.

"I'm depressed... I'm depressed..." I repeat, rocking back and forth on the gun, leaning my chin over the barrel. "I'm not suicidal," I say "just tired, thinking maybe another forward movement, and we could have ourselves a party favor granted by God."

I'd appreciate it, but of course it's not what I want! You fucking idiot. Just back up, please. I don't do a thing, and they're here at my door, force feeding a statement down my throat, putting their hands in my head and popping me off.

"She's not crazy." I say. Look, we're sitting here in the living room. The living room is not in the basement. I don't know if there is a monster down there or not. I don't head that direction as often as I used to. I have been up here, keeping the meals to myself. It's why I walk by the windows of the auto repair shop and say, "That's a big, fat, stupid looking baby if I've ever seen one." It's also the reason that for all I know, the monster is out here, with us, instead of down there, contained by me and my infinite patience.

Could have cracked my back, was I standing in the right place, but it turns out that I'm the only one standing there right now. Bane is back in business, and Batman's about to accept his just reward. I've been out in the city working my ass off my whole dang life. I know, I haven't gotten a lick of success. Secret genius award heading my way. Just hold on, baby. I've got you. We're going to make it, baby, if it kills me. No matter what. We're going to get through this. We've got it, baby. I love you.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on August 25, 2018, 08:01:33 AM
Like I said, she's not crazy.

"I'm just going through some bipolar swings." I say. "It's really nothing to worry about. I love you as much as I ever have; just don't go blabbering to my friends, my best friends, compatriots, and you could call them fuckin' bosses if you want, Lord knows they are, telling them that I'm acting like a goddamn maniac. Okay? This is between you and me right now. Don't call in any reinforcements. I don't need this kind of stress in my life right now..."

My palm is on my head. My head is shaking. My glasses are leaning over the tip of my nose. My shirt is somewhere on the beach.

"Take as many pictures as you want." I say. "This will look good in about a year."
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on August 25, 2018, 10:58:29 AM
"bibles," she says "you need to get it together, and quick. You don't understand the dire straits of your situation. You are on the precipice of losing me. A man without counseling is a man without sanity, and a counselor without a client is like a woman without love."

I am wobbling with my shirt off. My glasses are slipping down to the tip of my nose. She knows that I can't see. She knows that I've been blinded by my own delusions. She told me though that she would never leave me; only problem with that situation is that she doesn't believe that I am actually myself; only thing is that we introduced a new and yet familiar entity into our atmosphere: the atmosphere being a completely different one than what we were familiar with; only thing about it is, we've got a lot of paranoia that came with this so-called entity. It's tearing us apart. We're going at each others' throats on an hourly basis.

"Do you think that we'll survive this chapter?" I ask.

The preceptor states that we've survived every one so far.

"But where is Piper?" I ask.

"Who cares?" he says.
Title: L - by Theresa K. Smith
Post by: bibles on August 25, 2018, 12:49:37 PM
"Who cares?" she says. "She's not important."

"Okay." I reply. "But maybe. I mean, I need a lot of self-help, and I'm not trying to hurt you by asking for her. You know that I do not expect you to touch my balls, but if I see, for instance, a lip of your vagina hanging out, you better believe that I'm going to look at it and keep looking at it, mole or no. That's the nature of my beast; but it's not just vaginal lips. Honestly, it's the last thing that I want to look at sometimes. Mole or no. Open wounds is what we're talking about. Secret spaces. Personal identities. What you know yourself as but you might not show to me. Any two-timing, double crossing, speckle spotting, butthole rubbing, that sort of thing. So, please. If you've seen Piper, let me know. I'm not interested in April right now."
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on August 28, 2018, 12:25:13 AM
Channels raining down the screens like the forces that keep me from up and re-achieving the glory of my former life. I'm at my sisters, and her place is just like my wife's sister's: small box houses. "There are, like, eight different models to choose from." says my brother in law. "You have to pay more for the brick to go all the way up." says my sister, on the way to the park. My jokes are falling flat. "This is the point in my life I always knew would be the most troubling." A regular Mrs. Doubtfire, ready on the willing to express my opinions on the Apple ecosystem, doing what I can to escape Google's; Youtube Music not being up to my standards, and "Spotify is possibly the most revolutionary company on the market at the moment." I say.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on August 29, 2018, 06:37:22 AM
I'm older than most people. The laziness, ineptitude, and constant rooting through my soul has concocted a arthritic product that grinds my bones and coagulates my blood. I've given up trying to suck my stomach in. I've given up on my therapist. All that I can see is a green future.

"Get the books rolling, Manny!" I say, from this end of the press, further churning forward, like my dad on the edger, bumping over my mother's grave. Danger lurking on the perimeter. Thirsty eyes peering at me from the fog of war. Feline females trying to shove their flag into the mountain of man. My wife with her foot on my chest, latex cupped to her vagina, peeing while standing while forcing me to pee sitting down.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on August 29, 2018, 08:25:59 AM
I've fucked, goddamn, nearly everything up.

"You have no idea how important she was to you, do you?" asks the bookkeeper. "All the times you had to write to that one person -- you better believe it wasn't your wife! You keeping your shit hidden in your 'dirty corner' - as you call it. You're going to die now, bibles. There's no hope for the hopeless."

"You're just being paranoid." I tell myself. "You don't need her. You don't need anybody. The one person that you write to has always been yourself. The magic has always been inside of you. There's no need for fairies. People can fly on their own accord. Why are you even worrying about this one bitch? You're going to have countless bitches rushing your coattails, pulling your clothes off, begging to get a piece of that meat."

"She's not a bitch." I say. "Don't call her that. She would hate it. It could really hurt her feelings. I can't say exactly that she doesn't deserve it, but you and I both know that she doesn't. She doesn't hold grudges the way that Musette does -- and they're both scorpios -- as if that means anything... Musette never makes the first moves towards reparations. If I were smart, I would have married my therapist; but it's too late for that, and I really wouldn't want to. I can't lie. I feel a lot of emotions towards Musette. It wasn't supposed to be this way. I wasn't supposed to get so attached. I definitely wasn't supposed to become so subservient. This was supposed to be easy. She was supposed to be someone that I could take advantage of. Penelope was the one that I loved. With my love flowing her direction, what difference would it have made what Musette thought of me? I had no idea she'd have such a temper. I just wanted someone to take care of me. I wanted someone to be with. I was lonely, and now I'm broken."
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: tedprokash on August 29, 2018, 04:27:01 PM
I, for one, would like to call attention to the fact that Bibles has been on here bravely writing something like literature while the rest of us wank over our record collections and use the word "cunt" 795 times. (Dawley)
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: Sprague Dawley on August 29, 2018, 04:52:24 PM
SHHHHHHHH, some of us are trying the read bibles study, you heathenous cunt bastard
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: manuelmarrero on August 30, 2018, 10:51:23 AM
Best thread.
...Non-news thread.
Best non-Ted thread.
Loving it.
Title: Cranston Ropemaker
Post by: bibles on August 30, 2018, 06:25:47 PM
It doesn't matter. Honestly, I appreciate the work. Coming in at twelve, leaving at nine. There is going to be an intermission. The poets are all going to go out and smoke.

"I'm not a poet." I tell them. "That's why you're not going to hear from me. I write while you read. I'm a writer's writer, you know what I mean? I write on the forum for the forum. They all talk about their record collections and punching each other in the face while I sit here, churning it out, whipping it around my ears, shooting it out of my fingers, spooling it from my mind, pumping it out of my heart; and they fucking love it. They can't honestly get enough."

My therapist told me this would happen. She also told me that I'm not one of her clients.

"But I pay you!" I pleaded. "Look at it whip around my ears. Nothing is free. Give me what I came for, or get the fuck out. I'm out for blood tonight. Skin in the game. You've got it, I want it; and I am the skin, so watch me peel myself apart."

She says that this will kill me, and all I know is that it will kill her.

"You've got to stop." she says; and I tell her that I'm just getting started.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on August 30, 2018, 07:40:44 PM
"Why are you being like this?" she asks.

"It's just politics... business. I can't stop. I don't care. That's what I keep telling him and them and myself. My family is all that matters to me. I lie. My baby is going to be asleep when I get home, but most people don't have babies -- Ted not included. He's got boys who are as old as me. Manny wants a baby, right? Sprague is a baby. Let's be real. But I'm just poop. A butthole creation."

"Don't. Don't be like this." she says. "Nobody wants it. Stop beating yourself up. You're going to be okay. You're swirling around the drain of this current fit. You're going to get that medicine, but maybe you should just try taking some vitamins instead. Folic acid. B12. Interval training. You owe it to yourself. You owe it to Manuel and the bright lights of your future."

I'm turning into my boss. There's a new spot on my face. I sell books. He's going to die. My parents are going to die. I wished them death so that I could get some money so that I could get some weed.

"That's all that I care about." I tell my therapist. "Take your vitamins and shove them up your ass."

The spot looks like it's filling with water. It is more than a spot; it's a water balloon. The dermatologist never saw this one. It's been growing. It is not what it was. It will be the death of me. It is the seed of my boss growing inside of me. I don't want him to die. My mind is already full of the bookkeeper.
Title: Re: bibles study
Post by: bibles on September 05, 2018, 09:53:46 PM
"It's not for me." she says, my wife. Musette. That's what I call her. It's like an accordion or something. She has this crazy idea, she says. Farming. A house with land, "not necessarily cows, but I've been watching Youtube videos of people who do it. I don't have to be in front of a camera, but I can. I could record the journey. That way, even if I don't make it with the crops, or the cows, or the chickens - I can make it with the crowd. That's currentivism, right babe? It's what you're all about?"