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Sunday, November 13, 2011

CHRISTOPHER STARDUST













You gambled on a sure thing and your losses were incalculable. So you hit the road (after being tossed from a speeding pickup truck).

While hitch hiking, you meet up with an old southern gentleman who is offended by the stars in your eyes and the stripes along the highway. He says, "I SPIT on you, suh!"

"No ya don't," you cry, keeping on the move, bobbing and weaving, increasing the tempo until he runs out of saliva.

You shag a ride with a woman in a Jaguar convertible. She parks along a dirt road and her top comes down. You desperately want to get her home to play a game of Scruples, knowing that she has none.

You say you can never be bought, but she purchases you outright. And though there was a price on your head, she says it can be easily removed with a little soap and water.

Her career is in high gear, so she leaves you at home to play Mister Mom. She sends you a text that says: BANG THE DRUM. BURP THE BRAT. BE SURE THE DOGS ARE BATHED AND PROPERLY TUCKED INTO BED. (It is public knowledge that she has a rash in a private place, but since it's always dark when she gets home, you're the last one to know.)

You become a transvestite, fashioning your own dresses from the burlap bags you buy with your meager allowance. You wear glitter in your hair and call yourself Christopher Stardust.

The newspaper does a human interest story on you. You get your own cable TV show, doing psychic readings for house pets from the way they bark, mew, or snort into the telephone. You tell a cat that its last escape from death was just by a whisker.

You parley your knowledge of animals and your smooth bedside manner into a successful phone sex business for those who are into bestiality. (You imitate all those beastly noises yourself.)

You take all your profits and hit the casino again, intent upon making that one big score.

You put it all on black.

It comes up red.

You borrow money from a guy named Bruno. You don't lose your shirt...you lose your bra, your wig, and your garter belt. They take you back to the highway where they toss you from an even faster moving truck.

Ever the hardheaded one, you gather yourself up and stagger down the road. Glitter falls from your hair and gets stuck in your navel. You look up at the sky and see a shooting star burning itself out. Your woman drives by in her Ford Fiesta.

This time, she doesn't stop.

19 comments:

  1. Wow. It's funny. It's heartbreaking. I actually knew a "Christopher Stardust" although, I don't think he made beastly sounds.

    Very original, Timoteo, like you. : )

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  2. ha. what an intriguing tale man...playing scruples though she has none...nice...wonder if that will be on sale at christmas...yikes on the rash though...hard to get rid of those...hard times for sure..

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  3. This is great prose.
    I was sucked in...

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  4. lovely.

    the image gives on dreamy thinking.
    :)

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  5. This! Is creativity at its finest. I love it!

    To make no mistake, no one is making some dopey comparison of Obama to Hitler. Please.

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  6. My apologies! I don't know where that comment below my comment came from!! Must have been something I copied off of an article. I don't even remember reading it!

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  7. Oh where gambling will lead, fun tale.

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  8. goodness..goodness..so this is how to start a telephone sex business..smiles...loved it...christopher stardust and all..ha

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  9. HA.. this is comically good.
    quite some twists, yet...I smell the Eternal Recurrence going on.

    good job.

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  10. Oh my gosh, this was hilarious! And so very risque and inappropriate in every possible way. :)

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  11. I must say, the philosophy in the Book of Timoteo always leaves me amazed. Amused, and mind-boggled, also. Quite the gut punch in the last lines, my friend.

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  12. Thanks, THINGY, for calling me an original. True, there are no copies floating around out there as far as I know!
    BRIAN--I've played that game, but I think I would opt for TWISTER if given the choice.
    Glad you were sucked in again, EVELYN.
    Thanks for stopping by, MORNING & SUSANNAH.
    I'm glad you explained that, MARBLES...now I can stop racking my brain trying to figure it out! LOL
    PAT HATT--Yeah, I think I'll stick to bingo down at the church hall!
    CLAUDIA--Well, it's a living!
    TINK--Most of us are hoping that Nietzsche is wrong about that one!
    And that's why you liked it, eh, SHAWNA?

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  13. This is terrific-- imaginative, fluidly written and assertively executed....ooo la la-- you can write, boy! I loved: You become a transvestite, fashioning your own dresses from the burlap bags you buy with your meager allowance. You wear glitter in your hair and call yourself Christopher Stardust.

    Sexy write, Tim-- xxxj

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  14. As always, Christopher Stardust blows me away......laughed at the game of Scruples. Your writing is unique, Timoteo, and I so love it!

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  15. JEN--You know I'll get a swelled head...but bring it on! LOL
    Hi SHERRY...it's so comforting to know that you are there.
    You know, ROSEMARY, this is autobiographical. Well, okay--just the part about the woman not stopping!

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  16. You are wild you're also hiding, took me forever to find you....goodhiding spot

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