“She’s just insecure!” says a haughty sounding hater about me.

“I see insecurity.” says another hater reading my blog. Trying to sound convincing to others and partially to themselves. Because somewhere…narcissistic people know they’re lying.

“Let’s talk about sex!” yells Jack.

That was Jack Kennedy, by the way. The former US President.

“Do you guys think Putin thinks like me?” asks Jack Kennedy.

“He doesn’t.” says his younger brother Bobby about Putin.

“He thinks like a tsar.” says Lacey happily and morosely both. “And it’s beautiful. It’s like looking at a graveyard and realizing the truth of death. The frailty of humanity. He’s brutal and brilliant and terrifying. He’s violent…and perhaps reckless at times…but he isn’t necessarily vile. I’m not convinced he’s vile. He seems more dangerous and genuinely brutal than vile.”

“He’s hot!” yells a hater thinking it’s time for them to try to “hit it.” A older-middle-aged woman (in her early 60’s) hits the dance floor to shake her behind as part of the common colloquial mating ritual. She looks objectively hideous but no one will ever tell her that. They don’t notice. She wore the right clothes and did the right hand gestures to make it in the Western middle-class Unilluminati. Yes, it’s that…on the nose.

“They call themselves the Unilluminati?” asks a gay man.


“Gee! Life is that complicated?” asks Jack of Lacey.

“It is.” she says. “But God exists right?”

“Lights out kids!” yells Michael. “Time to hear your parents openly and honestly discuss sex like you asked them to in the late 20th Century. Right? Like you wanted them to tell you? All the sordid details? To not be so…uptight and buttoned-up and repressed about their sexuality?”

“So…closeted?” asks Lem.

“Or you could just spare yourself the violation and repulsion if your brains still work and watch your peer shake her ass. She looks about your age.” says Jack.

“She might be a little young for some Boomers.” suggests Lacey as a correction.

“Nah! They want to focus on that blond over there gettin’ jiggy wit’ it.” says Scott.

“Or that no cap slut over there.” says Jackie Kennedy.

“No cap?” asks Joe. “Like she’s uncapped? Unhinged?”

“Are you asking if she’s crazy?” asks Jackie of Joe.

“Yes.” he smiles.

“Is that dope to you Joe?” asks Edith.

He sighs. “I find it tres dope.”

“Why?” asks Pat Wilson. “Do you find an unhinged woman fascinating?”

He thinks.

“I think you want to save them.” says the elder Joe to his son.

“Yes! Yes, I think that’s it.” observes Edith.

They all ponder.

“I’d tell you more, but that’s inappropriate.” says Michael.

“And she might be mine for eternity anyway.” says Lem.

“Funny how human we still sound.” says Edith.

“I’m not sure if you’re implying you’re demons or I’m crazy or?” asks Lacey.

“Or what? That I genuinely find slightly mentally-ill, eccentric women arousing? Because I do. Lacey, they’re so fascinating.” He smiles.

Lacey smiles too. She actually would listen to his stories. Like a friend. He smiles.

“I did have a big nose.” says Jackie.

“Do you still?” asks Lacey, secretly hoping she does.

Jackie grins.

“I think I want to look exactly like I look.” says Lacey. “Flaws and all. Unless God sees otherwise.”

Michael races off with her yet again.

“I think Michael is just in love.” sighs Scott. “That’s so blasé.” *he rolls his eyes*