The Curse

“Bobby Jr. wants Joe Jr. to suck his big fat dick?” asks Lacey in the Minneapolis Institute of Art. She fell asleep with Lem Billings last night after having a very chaste date with him.

“We went on the date with you! Therefore iPod fact-is, twinkle-finkle shit…we got his dick, bitch!” says the Illuminati collectively.

Truth is…if Lacey isn’t schizophrenic…they stupidly stalk her. Ever since chatting her up in 2016 against her will.

“We didn’t even have sex!” yells Lem. He’s referring to him and Lacey. But the Illuminati thinks it’s Sex in the Museum using telepathy and astral projection time. They came to the cool kid event wearing suits and high heels. It’s a “classy” place.

They’re disappointed. Because they recall having sex with him. All of them.

“They were having sex with demons.” says Lem. “Demons can impersonate dead humans.”

“No they can’t!!! Every spiritual entity that exists is made of butterflies and sunshine and my asshole.” says a knowing witch. “There is no Devil! I choose happiness over the bullshit you believe in! I choose light in darkness!!!”

*Putin laughs*

Of course…none of them did. As in, Lem isn’t lying. Seemingly. Actually, he woke up feeling insecure about what he looked like when he aged. And he took that insecurity out on Lacey and rejected her womanly, cheerful innocent love. He was cold. She couldn’t place why.

The thing is…Bobby Jr. was dumb enough not to realize he just wanted to suck his uncle’s cock? He wanted to screw Jack? Because what? If Lem wanted it…he had it from Jack. And *shrug* I’m pretty sure Ethel didn’t spread her legs out of sexual frustration and conceive Bobby Jr. with some dipshit door to door salesman who offered to get her off. So…if Jack is Bobby’s biological, or at least familial uncle…then why would you want to fuck your uncle by proxy? Or does he like to steal uncles and aunts. His last wife did strongly resemble Jackie. And his fist wife resembles Lacey in a way… Is he subconsciously into incest?

“Hey you wacky bitch! You spread those sexy gams for my daddy! How about trying me sometimes?!” he pouts to Jackie?

“It’s all about Jack and Bobby?” wonders a victim of Covid-19. She imagines a cover of a book with Bobby grinning like a new-generation, still fresh and upcoming, top-rated sex-athlete (sexlete) as Jack (and old time sexlete) shakes his head mischievously.

“The ding dong dang Devil made me do did!” Jack says about his hit relationship with his nephew. Not hit relationship book but relationship. As in, it’s the true Kennedy romance everyone is talking about!!! Forget what you’ve read about Jackie and Bobby! Forget what you’ve read about Ethel and someone unknown. Forget what you’ve read about Rose and that mysterious guy in Paris? …Forget about Kick and the English aristocracy. …Or any of the possibly wild and genuinely hidden sex lives of the Kennedy women. …Nope. Focus on Jack’s dick. Focus on little Bobby’s dick. It’s Dad’s orders?

“Come on! Be an American!” says Scott.

“Everyone is talking about it?! Gee! Why not me?!” says a squealing woman who had a crush on JFK.

“Sweetie. It’s gross.” says Zelda to the woman.

“Well…everyone loves the Kennedy’s though. I don’t want to assume I can comprehend their sex lives.” she says with melancholy.

“But that’s his uncle.” says Scott to the woman.

“Gee. Yeah.” she says as drool comes out of her mouth.

“Are you okay?” asks Harold.

The woman’s eye-cross and she goes into a seizure. Then she dies.

Five minutes later she emerges looks confused.

“Dear God! That’s a weird drug!!” she says in fear.

“What drug?” asks Scott.

“You ask God, Scott!” she replies.

“Is it the capitalists?” asks Harold.

“No! It’s me tweaking my early 20th Century brain to relate.” she says like a supposed “bitch.”

“Maybe that’s not true?” says a dead man.

“Maybe it is true.” says Lacey. “Maybe Bill Gates is from old money…and Bobby’s father is a tall, scrawny Eastern European sex-addict.”

Silence.

“Did you notice that he doesn’t look like his father?” asks Rocky.

“Do you want an honest answer?” asks Lacey.

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t spread my legs.” says Ethel or someone on her behalf.

“I hope not.” says Lacey. She means it in every possibly empathetic way.

A once Eastern European door to door salesman who actually does look like Bobby Jr. is still curious. He may have had a legitimate sex addiction and personality disorder tendency like Bobby Jr..

“He’ll just think I wanna fuck em’.” says Lacey in annoyance. She wants to strangle evil but instead she rolls her eyes.

“It’s called class snobbery.” says Joe Sr. to Bobby Jr.. “And your grandmother agrees with me.” They look at him. “What exactly is your problem Bobby Jr.?”

“I think the true Kennedy curse is homosexuality. I think it’s at the root of all your problems. Queer!, sensitive, sexy men who are horribly insecure about their sexual identity. And so they overcompensate…and fuck hundreds of women to seem truly heterosexual. But in reality y’all want a piece of Lem’s cock.” *Lacey snaps her fingers* “Yummy!” She smiles. “The thing is…he really probably was straight. Based on this.” *she extends her hands out to reference this reality* “And sadly for Bobby Jr. and his sex addiction and fascinating psychosis…he wasn’t a pedophile seemingly either.”

“Do tell us more about Bobby Jr.’s psychosis.” says Scott.

“So no. Try to get it through your weak brain (?) Lem doesn’t want to suck your cock Bobby if he hasn’t already.” Kick says. “If he didn’t get you to sex him up with speedballs…and molest you…then he probably used drugs because you wanted to shake your hard cock in his medicated face like the try-hard malignant, retarded narcissist you are.”

“I think he lives in a false reality. In which he’s a grown man from birth. And everyone wants a piece of him. But not in a perverse way in his mind, which of course, is different than reality. I wonder who molested him if it wasn’t Lem. But regardless, he exists in a way in which he’s their actual equal without ever developing a true adult sense of reality.” Lacey says. “Jack was very similar. Bobby is like a pageant-toddler who’s never grown-up and instead just continually leans in to that identity. They all were slightly like that but some worse than others. He and Jack were the worst, possibly due to the mutually closeted homosexuality and irrefutable perversion they both accepted as their own?”

“The environment has done so well with Bobby Jr. as it’s defender. So did the US with his…uncle.” says a dead woman.

“So which is it? Do you cognitively comprehend that you need to tell the truth?” asks Lacey.

“He molested me.” Bobby says flippantly. “And I liked it!” He shakes his ass and his head thinking he can sue the author of this blog. And prove that he’s superior once and for all! To all his peasant suckers.

“Or is it peasant-suckers?” asks Zelda.

“Present-suckers?” asks Harold.

“He’s using the poor white Americans to get votes. Just like his family did.” says Lacey. “ I doubt he cares about anyone. Including himself.”

“No! I wasn’t molested.” he says.

“But you liked it!!” says Cable-dude. They do sexy sexy sex together. ?

“I’m queer. Okay?” says Bobby Jr..

“Just like you were molested?” asks Bill Gates.

“Damn that curse.” says Joe Sr..

“I refuse to apologize!”

Lacey’s mother refuses to apologize. Squat, fat, badly dressed, ugly men with no hair (and probably no breeding) insist Lacey is ugly. Ugly!

And Lacey still is left, kindhearted, to sort out the truth.

“The truth doesn’t exist! Let me go fuck a kid! They’re sexy! Bitch!” says a pampered, white trash, once attractive now possibly heinous, effeminate, dumb-as-dirt-by-choice, vulgar Boomer. They snort a line of cocaine to feel less scared of death and reality. “Freud, Foucault and that fine ass over there?” They point to Shelley Long like a king waiting to capture a crown.

“You’re a pedophile.” Lacey points out to this individual.

They look at her confused. She wonders why they’re alive.

“I’m alive because my mother loved me!” says this person.

“Are you sure she did?” asks Lacey.

They stop and think.

“He’s redeemed by Jesus!!” says a coke high, phoney televangelist. Also a Boomer. “Jesus!!!”

“Are you two going to suck the dick of Jesus when you die?” asks Lacey.

“Why can’t they just admit they’re wrong?! You really aren’t who they want you to be. They find secretly ugly women or only above average women who you resemble and then compare you to them. To try to cruelly trick you into thinking you’re far less attractive and beautiful than you are. It’s psycho. What they do to you and have done to you is psycho.” says the pedophile.

“I’m sorry you’re a pedophile.” says Lacey.

The man nods, walks off.

Lacey suspects that if he doesn’t molest anyone he’s probably well-bred. She prays for him. The televangelist stands, grinding his teeth. Staring at Lacey.

“You know Jesus isn’t sexual to us? Right? We’re His siblings in Heaven.” she clarifies.

He disappears.

That was thankfully not Billy Graham.

But now on to something that bothers Lacey. Because she’s not pretentious. She really is herself.

“You’re prim and prissy!” says Lem.

“I’m sexual in a way they can’t control or posses.” Lacey says. “And it’s not evil.”

“No. It was intended for a man who you never met.” says Lem.

“They make bad comparisons. But they’d pay billions to watch us fuck each other. Just once. Literally.” says Michael to Lacey.

“I wonder how much I could make?! Gee! A thing like that!” says Louis.

“I’d not sell tickets either. Just to clarify.” says Lem.

Harold is feeling charitable today. He’d sell tickets for a trillion each and then donate the money to Putin. For his relief fund.

“That poor tsar is losing trillions and trillions every second. He’ll be bankrupt by June!” says Harold.

“Harold it’s August.” says Lacey.

He blinks.

“Well, that’s too bad. I hope he still can eat. Those Russians and their state controlled media. If he’s still alive I bet he’s crawling around on all fours searching for a crumb. Left over from his former days of modest glory as the useless oligarch of our former frenemy.”

“You think the USSR was a frenemy?”

“Yes! We ate at the same table but they weren’t as cool as us.”

“They weren’t as wealthy.” says Lacey empathetically.

“And Ted Danson isn’t Joe Kennedy Jr..” says Harold.

“Did Ethel ever meet Joe Jr.?” asks Lacey.

“No.” says Joe Jr..

“Really?! I can’t believe that.” She goes to check on it online.

“They’re everywhere aren’t they?” says Orson Welles to Lacey.

“But you know…I used to watch Cheers and his character was like watching Satan laugh in my face.” Lacey says.

Harold Loeb laughs.

“Because he’s tall. And unaware of his innate conceit. And a womanizer with a good heart. But he’s…”. She trails off. “He’s not Joe. Their spirits are very different.”

“I’m Joe Jr. reincarnated!” says George Clooney.

“No.” Lacey smiles. “No, you’re not.” she says kindly.

They share a laugh.

They’ve talked about this before and at first he was hurt. But she doubts he is as much now.

“I wasn’t a boy in a bar in Boston looking for an education.” says Joe Jr..

“Lacey, they don’t want you to exist.” says Harold.

“It simply ruins the current narrative!” says a dead Gen Loster.

“Why does anyone care that much?!“ Lacey.

“I understand.” says Michael to Lacey.

“I dated her!!” Joe mimics a living woman who probably is psychotic not “psychic.”

“I’ve never dated a woman.” says Lacey.

“But you claimed to have dated me!!” says Joe Jr..

“No…not really.” says Lacey. “Not in that way.”

“Yeah. I know. That accusation against you is just a misconstrued set of lies.” Joe Jr. says.

“Why are people so stupidly insecure?!” asks Lacey.

“Because they’re not like you.” says Joe Jr..

Lem seems hurt. “Aren’t you two going to…? I mean now that you two are so close again!?”

“No.” says Joe Jr. sweetly.

Lem looks angry.

“He’s mad about Putin’s poverty.” says Harold. “It’s still clearly on his mind.”

“Why would Putin’s poverty bother me so much?” asks Lem.

“Because he’s a nice man.” Harold smiles.

“I’m sorry.” Then she thinks. “Lem, it’s all imaginary. Right? Easy-peasy. I’m crazy. You’re not you. You’re a demon. And I’m writing nonsense.” Lacey responds.

Silence.

“I can’t believe every time Joe is nice to me it’s false. Can’t people just be genuine friends? I think they can.” Lacey says.

“That’s what you think it always is!” he yells.

Silence.

“But you think Joe Jr. is otherworldly still. When he moves.” Lem says with conviction.

“Because he is. My ex looked like Michaelangelo’s David naked when he was younger.” says Lacey.

“And in better shape, I’m sure.” says Joe Jr..

“Yes.” says Lacey.

Silence.

“They’re like art.” says Lacey to Lem happily.

“If you were married to me I doubt you’d have thought I looked like art.” says Bobby.

“Your mind was and is rare regardless.” says Lacey in response. Seriously.

“They hate you because you’re one of us.” says Michael.

“If you’re not crazy, Lacey…I didn’t know them as well as I claimed to.” says Lem to Lacey.

“Fuck you!” says Bobby Jr. to Lacey.

“You aren’t one of us! You don’t know us!” Joe the present says. “You don’t talk to my father!”

“They had it bad for Lem’s ass?” asks Epstein in torture.

“They didn’t even know Kick or Joe Jr..” Lacey observes.

“Are we still in the family?” asks Joe the present. He sounds desperate.

“How about if I decide that!?” responds their dead brother David somewhat sarcastically.

“You were such a helpful addition to their family.” Michael says to Lem sarcastically.

“I’m sure they’d still love you all.” says Lacey.

“Why are you nice?” asks someone of Lacey.

“It’s not because I was abused.” she responds. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but no if you’re being serious, I’m just a kind person.”

“You know, if you’re open-minded it’s not as bad. Someone is always going to be better looking, and you can’t assume they’re happy. Or not really angry, actually.” says Shelley.

“Shelley you sound smart.” says Lacey.

And what Lacey means is that if smart, white, at least above average women are typecast in the late 20th Century as unaware shrews…that’s evil. It’s a lie. It’s evil.

“Has it changed?” asks Harold.

“Hardly.” says Scott.

“It’s deplorable.” says Joe Jr..

“Except it is deplorable. Truly.” says Lacey. “Let’s keep things straight.”

“I’m straight.” says Lem.

“Are you?” asks Lacey.

“No, I actually agree too. It’s Bobby who doesn’t.” says Joe Jr..

“It’s not that I’m anti feminist. Lacey, it’s not. I just don’t-“. He thinks. “I just think Margaret Thatcher was an anomaly.”

“Even if that’s true, one still has to account for her in some true way.” says Lacey.

“Lacey you’re mousy!” says an Illuminati member.

They’ve called her a dog face. Now she’s a mouse.

“Welp! That does it! Everyone will think she’s schizophrenic now! I’m convinced.” says Lem.

“Me too.” says Harold

“Actually it’s kind of a compliment. Mice have a somewhat pretty face. …But you know, that’s the thing. People have been insulting my objectively rare and authentic beauty my whole life.” She thinks. “It’s not schizophrenia to think someone would be a diehard fan of thinking I had an ugly body, spirit and mind.” says Lacey.

“I wrote the had instead of have.” says Scott.

“But I’m still alive.” says Lacey.

“But you’re talking to the dead.”

“Am I a tiny bit brain dead?” she asks.

“If you are it’s in a way they know nothing about.” says a lady who died of radium poisoning.

“Lem, Michael and Louis. Harold. Scott? I don’t know who belong to.”

“I still want to say that that’s me.” says K Joe Jr..

“I think it’s time to pack it up.” says Brian Williams.

“Which Brian Williams?” says Scott.

“I’m still straight.” says Lem. …”As in I’m a heterosexual. Named Lem Billings.”

“And if I’m at all brain dead that’s a sure sign not to try to repeat this activity.” says Lacey. Not commenting on the last sentence.

“You’re not brain dead. You’re evil.” says Satan. “See! Now they’ll try to torture people to make them brain dead to experiment.”

“But you’re just a schizophrenic illusion. Why do you get to have a say in anything? I’ll have to pray about you.” says Lacey.

“Well I loved you more than your parents did.” Satan says.

“You’re still Satan though, sadly.” she responds to Satan.