Bodyguard

I know you resent the girl inside you, the one who needs me. She’s weak, and stupid, and she makes you do things that shake and thrill and disturb you. You call her a traitor.

That’s bullshit. She’s not the traitor. You are. She’s being true to herself. She’s accepting life and making something from it. She’s risking everything she has to feel something meaningful. What are you doing? What are you achieving? You’re just the bitch trying to tear her down and bully her back into hiding.

But she’s mine, and you don’t get to pick on her.

I once sat on a couch in a rented townhouse playing Wii Sports with a skinny psychology major fifteen years my junior whom I’d known for a little over a day, and as we swatted polygonal tennis balls at one another, we spontaneously launched into an hours-long conversation about kinky sex and serial killers. It was the purest thing ever.

I regret not taking her upstairs and fucking her. She was a little risk-taker and a man-pleaser, so even if she hadn’t wanted to fuck me, she probably would have played along just to make me happy. The night before, at the party I was hosting, she’d put on a bikini, put her arms around me, whispered that the success of my project was important to her, and assured me she would try to make something good happen.

So she invited over a couple of strippers she knew, consumed her body weight in tequila, and tried to convince the strippers to fuck her on camera. I have no idea if she could have pulled it off, because she passed out while dancing in a circle to 50 Cent’s In Da Club. I appreciated that she tried, though. She was a good girl.

Best moment I got from the strippers? This exchange while sitting around the pool smoking cigarettes:

“I was talkin’ to my cousin the other day.”

“How’s he doin’?”

“Good, I guess. But it’s crazy, girl.”

“What is?”

“How much the world changes. I said somethin’ to him about how hot Johnny Knoxville is, and he didn’t know who the fuck I was talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And I said, ‘Shane, you been in jail so long you don’t even know what Jackass is!’”

What would you do to me?

Hey, Patreon people! And anyone else who gives a shit, I guess.

As I am notoriously slow about producing new audio content —I tend to fall into a vortex of “let’s try that again”ism— I was wondering what you think about something like this. One take, recorded on my phone, air conditioner hum and all… if I were able to drop one of these more often, would that be better or worse than waiting for something more polished?