Reader, you may say, how does she do it? How does she smoke/drink/fuck/not fuck/think about fucking/work/feel up strangers’ balls and still manage to come up with about 800 words of filth a couple times a week?
It’s not easy. And, like any Oscar/Grammy/AVN award winner, I surely don’t do it all alone. I, like any actor/pop and/or porn star, need a fluffer too.
So, in this week’s installment in which I thank the little people in my life, I would like to recognize Roommate Jim.
Every night, or it seems like every night, I come home to this.
“When you gonna give me credit for that?”
“For that idea on your blog today?”
“You came up with one idea, and I expanded that idea into thousands of characters of brilliance.”
“Oh, sure, yeah. Like I came up with the blog name. And just who do you think designed those unicorns fucking?”
OK, OK, so I give up. Roommate Jim, while privy to my many misadventures and moments of dementia–and there are many moments of dementia–is a faithful, obedient Man Servant. Like last night, when my Vegas friend got hacked and sent an e-mail that said, “Check out your ass on our tappe,” or something like that. I came upstairs kinda distressed, as I knew it was probably fake or a joke, but you know, Vegas was a blur and there is a very, very good chance that my naked ass is on a tape somewhere.
“My friend sent me something about my ass on a tape.”
“It’s probably a virus,” Roommate Jim says, wearing his Man Bib and eating beans on the couch.
“Really? It goes to Adult Friend Finder.” I said. “I’m not on there.”
“It’s probably a virus. Change your password.”
“Noooo! I changed all my passwords six months ago! I have so many passwords going on right now on so many sites! I can’t keep track of it all. ”
“Why don’t you just use one password for all? What kind of system do you got?”
“My system is just fine.”
“Oh, yeah, it seems to be working fine. It’s like you’re an old person, ‘I don’t know how to use this World Wide Web? What is a password?’ ”
“It’s a system. It’s a delicate house of cards, but it’s a system.”
And so it goes. I fight against common sense and technology, and Roommate Jim makes me pictures of unicorns fucking and comes up with stuff like “The fuck-it list.”
So, this week, I would like to thank Little Person Roommate Jim. Also, you owe me a column on why I am such a bitch to live with.