Every Housewife's Wet Dream

After 9 and a half weeks, Micky Rourke was a bonafide star. No longer the student vagabond, but every housewife's wet dream. i knew even my daughter loved him.

i'd walked into breakfast just yesterday and the wife was poring over him, dreamily, what? she asked back when i said i was leaving for work. jesus, huh.

i was driving to work that day, actually and i had the radio on. just the usual station, i don't really care what it is in the morning, right, i'm just trying to get to work.

but this morning, i hear it, that micky rourke is doing a signing at the mall right here in my neighbour. and you know what, i realise, i hadn't seen my daughter this morning. i usually see her right there at the breakfast bar before i leave. and the wife, i bet she was there already and i bet she was wetter than fucken bride.

well i turned that car left at the next lights and then right, left, right again and gimme ten more minutes and i was there. i parked underneath in the carpark and loosening my tie and caught the lift to the first floor.

it was a long mall and a post told me the signing was up the other end, in a little central plaza area, between a music store and the foodcourt.

Okay, i thought to myself, plan of attack. well, first things first, i had a few hours to kill and secondly, i didn't want my wife or daughter to see me here. so i went back downstairs to the car and took it out for a drive where i grabbed a cup of coffee and a quick sandwich, which i could hardly eat. i was so fucken nervey and angry.

i drove the car back to the mall and parked on the same level. by now a crowd was gathered and i could hear an MC juicing them up for the big event. jesus i could imagine the both of them now. i bet my daughter had on a sweater, to hide her uniform. i bet she had on a whole load of makeup too. ah fuck.

i took an escelator from the first floor to the second so's i could keep my eye on the crowd. there was no way i'd be able to get close now on the first floor, which was my own damn fault.

up on the second floor i pushed my way closer and closer. there was an electronics store on my right and i'd been using that as the excuse to push through the crowd. just as i got to the door of it, i heard a huge cheer and through the melee i could see some bodyguards leading micky out from some hallway.

fast as i could, acting like the biggest asshole i could, i bought this big stereo. Present for the kid, i said. yeah, they're sixteen. i paid cash and said look, can you hurry it up. i'll wrap it myself at home i just gotta get it and get going.

so i had the stereo in this big box. speakers, sub, the lot. using it as a ram,i pushed out through the crowd and below i could hear micky giving out some speech about how he was happy to be hear, thanks for coming you lovely ladies... and gentlemen of course... hahahaa. that asshole.

i got to the railing, some biddy next to me cursing. i saw micky about five metres away and fifteen below. i raised the stereo as best i could and hoisted it out at him. a few people yelled and he turned and looked up at the stereo coming at him. the fluorescent lights glinted off his ray bans, but he was quick and hipped just out the way and the stereo fell right onto the girl he'd gotten up from the crowd to show everyone. my goddamn wife caught a stereo right in the head and smashed it open on a planter box. she was out cold on the floor and blood was spreading out like a pancake on the white tiles.

ah fuck, the fucken wife. the fucken. fuck.

How I Die In The Past #1

I got shot in the head in world war one.

How I Die In The Future #2

After getting divorced from my wife, when i'm 46 (2035), I don't care about much. I don't have a kid because she was baren (and that was a constant sore point) and I don't have a good job, so i'm not really independent. I go out to some dinners and go on singles' websites. i jack off a lot too, i enjoy myself in a certain boyish way.

anyway, one day i just had a really shit day and couldn't bare to go back to work, so i went and jumped off the story bridge and smashed myself into pieces on the concrete bikepath below. when i was about to do it, some person was in the hotel that looks onto the spot and they screamed out at me, but i gave them the ups right before i jumped.

At the bus stop was sat two Africans, a brother and a sister. they both had tight jeans on and were eating macdonalds and chilling, waiting for the bus.

the sister was the older one and she pulled out her ipod and put some music on.

a white lady, in her late 20s and with a black linen frock and hairy/scratched legs went and sat next to them. she gave them a quick smile as she sat down. she was also listening to her ipod.

after ten minutes, a bus to inala came and the two kids got on. the white lady stayed seated and i checked her out again, hoping that even though i wasn't attracted to her she'd still look over to me and i'd get that cool eye contact.

Later on that evening, the african kids were having dinner at home...

"that lady who sat next to us stunk, could you smell her?"
"no, what did she smell like?"
"gross, like i dunno, a hippie. she smelled like west end"
"yuck, i hate that. i bet she felt cool sitting next to us"
"they always do"
"I know, they do"