• one happy jew •

• one happy jew •
The trolls just got home from church, smelling all Jesusy. It’s a queasy-making admixture of social Darwinism and moral supremacist, redolent of delusion and self-righteousness, like the smell of a dance studio after it’s been sweated in by a gaggle of polyester-clad ballroom dancers – needless to say, not altogether pleasant: eau d’ dickhead: dank, with a heady hunger for Frito pie. Cheesy. Smegma lipped, sheeple, you gotta love ’em. God knows, I do, dammit all. They don’t deserve me, and that, in a good way.
Just lately, whenever anyone walks in the room, I stop doing whatever I am doing, and I’m always doing something, even if it’s just taking the collars off’ my shirts, no more fried-bacon collars for me, thank you kindly. I act like I never do anything, when they are around. I’m as inactive as an orthodox Jew on the Sabbath – I won’t even turn on a light switch. They think I am completely useless, and I like it that way. Why? Because it pleases me. It pleases me that they can’t figure out how so much shit gets done around here, when they know perfectly well I can’t be counted on to do anything.
Of course, as soon as they go anywhere, I am beavering around the place like mad. Picking up,making the beds, turning over mattresses, doing laundry, vacuuming. They are completely perplexed, shamboozled, incapable of seeing anything good in my vicinity. I am grinning, though I know you can’t see me. Take my word for it – today, I am one happy Jew.
~ Tim Burchfield



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