menage trois

All posts tagged menage trois

Strange Drug

Published September 1, 2012 by Sandee

The strangest drug I ever did was Broke Back Mountain.  How does one DO Broke Back Mountain?  You need pills, the tranquilizing kind, an urge to escape, and an obsession with being ‘involved’ with two men who ‘involve’ themselves with you as well as with each other, in a ménage trois where they live with you, in a relationship, on a king-sized bed.  First, space out on Klonapin.  Take three, four at a time, sit back, turn on the TV and melt into the movie while your brown eyes dilate to the size of oranges.  Let the movie wash over you, the theme music, the scenery…

Cue Twilight Zone music:  I’m in that stinky tent, BETWEEN Jake and Heath, helping Heath ‘do it to Jake’.  I’m bathing in that brook with Jake, helping him reach the part of his back by his ass.  When they sing those songs that cool night, I sing too, having a good ‘ol time.  Water walkin’ Jesus, take me awayyyy…  It’s all a mishmash phantasmagorical ride, where I don’t refer to them as Innis or Jack.  I want Jake, Heath – that does it for me.

Everything they feel, I feel.  I feel disappointment, embarrassment when that guy in the bar rags on Jake’s character for coming on to him.  Fuck that guy!  When Heath and Jake meet years later and kiss, I pause, rewind, pause.  That pause button is hot from my finger. I add shit to the scene.  In my scene, their mouths are open when they kiss.  But I’ve done that with other scenes too, added shit, have them get full frontal naked, with erections, and have them say stuff not in the script.  They say stuff to me too, to Sandee.  I don’t give a crap how Annie Proulx wrote it.  And, they’re not gay, they’re bisexual.  I’ve convinced myself of this, as I come home from work, ready once more for my umpteenth viewing, replete with tranquil scenes of Tetons, twangy country western music, and sparse western streets.  I’m the only black person in the town but it’s my Twilight Zone episode so leave me alone.  Please.  I’m having bad days.  I must escape.

In social gatherings I bring it up.  “Have you seen it?  It’s dreamy.  Very well done.  I like the movie better than the short story, actually.  They are so fine. I know the whole script, I’ve seen it so many times.”   This last part —  a quiet calling out to reveal my unhealthy obsession.  Maybe.  Do I need help?

Friends and family can’t find me.  When they turn the TV on and see the movie, they gasp, drop the remote control.  Some faint, other’s run out of the room.  My sister knew all along.  “She’s, she’s in…THERE,” she says, trembling, pointing at the threesome frolicking in babbling brook.

A stinky ‘ol ghost from Holland

Published May 26, 2012 by Sandee

 

I thought that calling my book ‘Why Did You Try to Fuck Somebody You Hate?  And Other Mean-Spirited Tales, told by a Sword-Chinned Bitch’ was Monty Pythonesque!  But apparently, some people feel like they’re being attacked when they look at the title.  “Ohhh, the world’s harsh as it is, why would I want to read that?  Wah, wah!” This is what pussies say.  The caption says, “For those unafraid to look,” and everybodyknows  pussies are afraid to look.  Other people think that the title is crass and vulgar.  My word! 

So I changed the gd title.  Well, actually only on my Goodreads ad and on my blog site.  The Amazon site will take 48 hours to change over to the ‘family friendly’ title, so you can wait until then to look if you’re too a-scared.  The stories aren’t really mean-spirited any way – skeevy, alcohol-drenched, and a bit macabre perhaps.  Just imagine Charles Bukowski as a black woman – no, no — Edgar Allan Poe as a black woman – no wait — Fyodor Doestoevsky as a black woman… okay, this is probably why people think it’s weird.  Oh, oh — and there’s cake in it, and an implied ménage trois, and cigarettes, and a stinky ‘ol ghost from Holland!  One of the stories, “Night Terrors” has been published in Calliope!  So take that up your crass and vulgar!

My book represents the highest caliber of literature – oh yes indeed it does.  I mention myself in the same vein as Bukowski.  But how do I classify my book really?  I don’t.  To do so would be confining it to a box.  My shit can’t be labeled.  And at the same time I say that it’s ‘literature’ generally, which classifies it in a sense but I’m not ridiculous about the whole thing, after all, we do need some words that we agree upon to represent something so that we can communicate — sillies!

I’ll tell you what other people said about my book later, but in the meantime, if you haven’t already done so, please click the book link on the sidebar to look at the lovely review of WDYTTFSYHAOMSTTBASCB, then go to the bank, take out .99, and buy a copy on Kindle.  I’m planning on getting hard copies at some point as well, so don’t fret non-Kindle users.  My sister suggests also that you send the .99 directly to me and I’ll forward you the Microsoft Word file by email!  No, please don’t do that.