I was a member of the OSS alongside Julia Child. I don’t know why she’s getting all the glory while I’m left here to rot with nary a mention. All Julia ever did was type up a few letters and bring in scones and muffins twice a week. This was before she hooked up with Jaques Pepin and became a big shot chef. Back then she was just Julie McWilliams, the secretary from Pasadena who made those shitty muffins in the break room.
I thought that the OSS was a sacred privilege. I assumed that’s why it was all such a big secret, but now that the list is out and I see who’s on it, I realize it wasn’t special at all. It’s like when your mom tells you that you’re her favorite but then says not to tell your siblings. You think you’re really something, and when your brother knocks your front teeth out with that hockey stick you let him have it; you break out all the big guns to put him in his place. He’s ugly, he throws like a girl, you said you liked his haircut but you were really just being nice, he was a mistake and mom always love you best, not him, she said so herself. Then he really gets you back when he says that she tells that to every one of her kids, all thirteen of them had that same heartfelt talk and left feeling special and now you know, you’re just like all the rest. Well, here comes the OSS and they’re telling me I’m like all the rest. The secrecy wasn’t for protection, it was because anyone who asked got to join. Motherfucker shit whore.
There are over 20,000 names on that list. One of them is a guy I went to high school with. He was your typical pervert whose athletic prowess and big blue eyes gave him the idea that anyone’s lady was fair game. Well, long story short, he took my Mertyl one night while I was finishing up a science project. She dumped me the next day and started smoking and swearing like a common whore. I’d like to know who thought that man would make a good spy. I bet that while I was over in Russia during Operation RedHot Vodka he was snuggled under the sheets with Julie McWilliams, your Julia Child, and every other skirt this side of the Iron Curtain. He probably slept his way through the OSS interview and training camps until every broad and dandy was smoking a Lucky Strike while he pulled his pants back on.
I gave two full weeks of my youth to the OSS. I spent 48 straight hours drinking vodka with some brutish Communists until they figured out who I was and held me prisoner. Yeah, sure, maybe it was little Julie McWilliams who got me out by poisoning their Borscht and giving them the shits long enough to hump my badly beaten body out of the mountains, but did she deserve more attention than I do? I was a prisoner of war. I spent ten minutes of one evening in 1944 being given a very painful wedgie by some Russian soldiers and there is nary a mention of my time serving this country as a member of the OSS. I gave up my dignity, for what? Well, fuck Julie McWilliams and fuck her bullshit muffins. I demand my just desserts. Somebody dig her up so she can make me a god damn pie.