From time to time I like to sing little songs to Janie. Since about forever, I would sing her to sleep to the tune of Close To You by the Carpenters until, one very hurtful evening, she screamed NO! STOP! I hate that song. I have always hated that song. Also, I am a rotten whore! Then things went downhill from there and we agreed that there would be no more singing until she begged for forgiveness. I am still waiting.
Sometimes I would make up songs, like that one about a charm bracelet or that other one about the humuhumunukunuku?pua?a which I pepper with lies to suit the rhythm. I’d like to make one of the little songs up for you now, Internet, to thank you for your kindness and also because Janie hasn’t begged me for forgiveness and the animals are full up on songs for the week. So, this is for you, Internet. This is for you.
The Internet is a place
Where I tell some stories
I talk about my crazy life
and then about my hateful wife
You come here to read it
and you sometimes write nice things
you tell me that I am funny
But you never offer money.
I love you anyway
I will keep doing what I do
You will never get rid of me
Because I’ve done nothing wrong and I have every right to be here to express my opinions and share my stories, some of which are half-truths, but only the parts where it was necessary for dramatic effect because real life events aren’t always quite that entertaining or tragic or ridiculous and unfortunately for me, this doesn’t include the thing about the dryer because that was all totally 100% true despite what Janie will say because she thinks I made her look bad and she really did it to herself by leaving me for dead.
My mom sometimes reads my writing
She laughs and then asks what it means that I wrote that “she will cut a bitch”
And I tell her it means she is a good person and she will cut you, bitch, if you come near her ever, for any reason, unless you know the password which may or may not be “verstehen.”
And she said, oh yeah, that’s true. I will cut you, give me that switchblade from my purse.
And my sister sometimes reads stuff here if I say something about her dogs
My brother found it via Google
It wasn’t hard to do
But by far my favorite reader is Y. O. U. – yes, YOU.
You are from my book club
You’re my high school pal
You may be my good friend who made me cry at Blockbuster 10 years ago when you were my boss but you’re not my boss anymore are you, bitch?
But most are total strangers who are kind enough to keep coming back and saying nice things and befriending me on Facebook and so now we’re friends and you can’t escape my genuinely fond feelings of you as a person. I’m sorry. Don’t leave. I love you.
This is your song
I wrote it for you
It’s for all the good times we’ve had together
Through thick and thin and snowy weather
You might find this weird
But I’m going to say it anyway at the risk of sounding creepy and bringing our relationship to a new level of awkwardness
If you were here beside me, and I could see your face
I’d distract you with my wit and charm and dog and then spray my can of mace
And lock you in my hall closet
Don’t worry, there will be ample food and water and internet access
Then make you say nice things to me every day
You will never get away.
Never get away.