“Oops” by Dead Royal Crown Derby

The Line by Mood Rings plays.

Lacey can’t feel God’s love for her at allanywhere in America. Even in churches. ANYWHERE.

Helena Bonham Carter had to rescue her spirit and bring her to Canada. Because Lacey had spent hours trying to listen for God’s love…and she just couldn’t hear it. At all.

At one point Lacey got into a funny conversation with American trees and rivers. And then she did a dance with Tsar Nicholas who was testing to see if she was his daughter in some way… And then out of genuine concern Sir Winston Churchill suggested Lacey try to seduce Jesus. She did her best. And thankfully He was not seduced.

And after much effort Helena brought Lacey to Canada. And once in Canada Lacey could finally hear God’s love for her. Lacey never heard God’s love for her growing-up. At all. Ever. But she knew it existed. Theoretically at least. And so…she’s never turned her back on Jesus, or so she’d like to hope, because she’s always known it was theoretically possible and in faith the absolute truth. America has been very good at that. America is good at preaching the word of God. And so…Lacey knows God loves her. But she’s never heard His love.

It is entirely possible that this blog was started because she’s always known she’d be far better off dead with God or in Great Britain. So much so that even Canada is vastly superior. Every time she crosses the border her spirit is instantly less harassed.

She also possibly could have felt God’s love in the Bahamas, Switzerland, Ireland and…maybe most places outside the US. Yes. Even Ireland. In Ireland she contemplated suicide. Sincerely. She did. She thought about jumping off a cliff or drowning herself in the sea. Sincerely. But if she’d been listening for God’s love she’d have felt it. Possibly while drinking tea or eating seafood in a pub in Dublin.

“Yeah. You’re alright.” says JP Kennedy smiling to Lacey in 2011 as she devours the pub seafood in Dublin.

“I approved of her tastes! And yes. I loved her.” says JP Kennedy. “She’s fine!!!” he yells at Ireland and they mostly relax while some Irish women become (sincerely) gravely concerned.

WHAT THE HELL…would be wrong with her!??” yells a dead Rothschild, sincerely at Ireland. “She’s quite suspicious of me. But it’s for perfectly kosher reasons. …Why do you hate Lacey?”

JP thinks. “I’m not as bad as my kids or my grandkids. …But I raised them.”

“Joe…how responsible was America?” asks Ireland.

“For their souls!??” says Joe. “DON’T ASK ME! ASK GOD!!”

Ireland cries.

“Joe’s better off with me than Lacey.” says Rose Fitzgerald.

“Seems so.” says JP.

“No!!!” yells Jack.

“Why does that bother you so much?” asks Venezuela.

“Because it means that I’m wrong about romantic love.” says Jack. “I don’t like them together.”

Shotput by Still Woozy plays.

Jack Kennedy shakes penis by shaking his lower body. America cheers.

“WHOOO!!” yells America.

It’s a television show. And Jack Kennedy is the star.

He’s on a hike. (In reality Lacey’s on a hike. But in the reality that America and JFK choose to live in in immense evil Lacey is being pretentious by hiking and she’s a witless clown. And Jack is the real star of her life and existence.)

“Hey! I’m Jack Kennedy.” says JFK. “This is my life.

Interrupting: “Does Lacey need to come here!??” Ireland yells JP, sincerely.

God analyzes that.

“I imitated Lacey to arouse Joe. And Jack caught on. But it’s vastly more evil than that.” says Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy in confession to Ireland.

“Rose that’s wrong.” says Ireland.

“Really!?” asks Rose, in panic.

“YES!!!” yells Ireland looking at Rose like she’s a freak.

“Anyway…this is my life.” says Jack. He sighs. “Well…that’s my family.

They’re not my family. But…you know how it goes. Some people! Right!? They’re so weird.

They’ve been bothering me ever since I met Kirk LeMoyne Billings. Ha!

You remember Lem Billings? Right?

Yeah. He’s a loser. …But someday I’ll fall in love with him. *Jack laughs and smiles wide* Man! Life. Right!?

*Jack Kennedy does an impromptu dance solo.*

Oh look! There goes Janet Desrosiers to have sex with my father.

*Jack stands and stupidly watches her.*

She’s not supposed to be sleeping with my dad. That’s weird you guys.

See…Lacey’s supposed to marry my dad. Because I hate her. And it would hurt her but she’s needing to be sent to Hell and totally obliterated because my mommy needs it. And I’m a huge fan of my mommy Rose, secretly.

But…Lacey likes punishment. She likes being kicked in the face. Constantly. She wants to be totally destroyed. As much as possible. …It’s good. And all her protestations otherwise are Lem screaming madly and obsessively for my cock. She has no humanity like other Americans. And so…when she screams out in pain it’s just Lem. He’s all her beauty and intelligence. That’s all purely a reflection of him. She’s not real in the way we are. And if that isn’t right and reality then I’m almost pure evil embodied in human form. Like Hitler, but worse in some ways and they shot me for a good reason and my family is a threat to US national security. So they lie about my death. And that’s completely impossible. Look at my hair!!” says JFK, sincerely.

Get Down by Still Woozy plays.

“Jack…wow. Go on!” says Africa.

“Yeah. If I’m evil…they shot me for a reason. And my family are secretly considered terrorists. But not by most Americans…or even the Illuminati. More by the US Government, secretly and several other world agencies. We were hated because we’re one of the most obnoxious families to ever exist.

Anyway…that’s not true. Right!?

Right!?

I’m not a Rat Face! No! I was bullied at Choate by imbeciles like who tormented Lacey. Except she has no excuse. She’s cold. Like ice. Like pure evil! …I’m hot. I’m hot inside. Like…I hate people who don’t…do my work for me at school. Even when I offered to pay them. They didn’t think it was fair. So…I punched them in the face and slapped their asses. And…they didn’t like it. Even though it was like when Jesus Christ yells at you. I’m like Jesus. I’m that. So when I slapped their asses…and they didn’t like it…*he shrugs* FUCK IT!” says JFK.

Woopie by Jack Kennedy plays.

“Jack what happened with Russia?” asks America.

“When I was alive?” asks Jack.

“Yeah. It’s part of the Jack Kennedy Show.” says America.

“Is it!?” asks JFK, happily.

“Yeah. Aww!! Please tell us more!” they say imitating Lem.

Jack laughs and smiles. Dances. “Yeah. Okay.

Ahh…

*he thinks.*

Ahh…okay so…Russia was really weak. Okay? They were like…SO WEAK. And we…were incredibly rich and handsome and powerful at that point. Like…WOW!

And the sex was so good. Lem was there too. But it was mostly Jackie and lots of other people. In good clothes with cameras. Good perfume. DAMN! Sexy!!!

*Jack Kennedy erupts into another spontaneous dance solo Woopie by Still Woozy.*

And then…we got…weird.

Like…Russia got all mad and shit.

And I know why. But…I didn’t wanna do that. I didn’t wanna go downstairs and look on my fucking desk!!!

Look. Fried chicken. I brought fried chicken to the White House. And you all think I’m a hater? Nah!!! No. I’m no hater.

So…like…I could have looked on my desk and avoided the problem. But…man!! …SHIT DUDE! I…didn’t realize that you can’t just make Lem do it. Like run the country.

Although sometimes I wonder if that was Lem who followed me into my bedroom with Jackie and fucked her…for me…or a hallucination. Because he had dark hair. And he was sort of short. And at one point he disappeared. But…yo! When I looked down at the bed…bitch was there coming. And it wasn’t me. Right? Y’all…was that me!?“ asks JFK, sincerely of America.

“I don’t know, Jack.” says Billy Graham. “Was he French?”

“YEAH!!” yells Jack.

Billy Graham laughs. Looks disturbed.

“Anyway…so I…guess…she had a lover.

Huh.

Where was Lem!??” asks JFK.

“I don’t know Jack.” says Billy Graham.

“So…I guess…he was running the country while I was high and upstairs.” says Jack. “Because nobody else there was sober. And we almost had a nuclear war.

Or was the Vice President doing it!? …Who ran the country!?

Huh. *JFK laughs.*

So…I was upstairs with Jackie…and…someone was downstairs with the paper.

And I just didn’t feel like working that day. So I let Lem take over. Except maybe he didn’t???

Anyway…I guess…if I’d read the papers I could have found a lot of good information. So…I guess that’s what they told me and it must be true. So…I just wanted to relax. I was so tired.

So…Jackie and I had sex.

Jackie and I had a lot of sex that day.

And then I come to find out…that I’m not the President anymore.

That’s what they yelled at me.

Wow! *Jack cries* That’s so mean. *He cries like he’s being horrifically attacked.*

And then…Bobby…he tells me to be cool. And he’s gone. For the day. Okay!? He has a family! And that’s rude. That’s so rude to me. But okay!? Okay!? Go fuck your wife Bobby!!!

*Jack weeps and bends over in tears.*

I am so sorry!!!

I am so sorry…FOR LIVING! I apologize to you for being alive. Go fuck your wife Bobby instead of being my new best friend for a day. All I wanted was to share Marilyn! Just for fun!! Just for fun, BOBBY! You NIGGER!

You cheap-ass nigger!

You and your shit kids.

You FUCKERS!!!“ yells JFK, sincerely.

“So…what happened?” asks America.

“I sort of remember.

Let’s see…Russia wanted our sex. Russia wanted or sex. It was a sex job.” says JFK.

“So…you think Russia wanted our sex?” asks Marilyn Monroe.

“FUCK YOU!!! YOU BITCH!!!” yells JFK.

“Jack…what happened with Russia?” asks Marilyn.

“Russia is sexy.

And they…

Ahh…

They wanted to talk to me. And make some boring deal.” says JFK.

“And then what?” asks Marilyn.

“Russia…wanted to make a deal.

But I was too busy. So…I ran things. But everyone got so upset.” says Jack.

“And then what happened Jack?” asks Marilyn.

“I guess they made some bad deal. And Russia got angry. So Lem had to do my job? With Krushev and Johnson? But he doesn’t care. He’s like a Scottish warrior Princess. SSSEXYY PANTS MAMA!!!! Like Mae West but she kick ass. Bitch for real, yo. He kick ass! Shit! Bitch is REAL! DAMN!!!!

So…he ran shit. He ran shit.

Or someone did.

And I was sober and playing golf. Right away. They sobered me up. I felt fine. Magic!

And then…Krushev wanted me to lick his balls I guess. Bastard. So…I guess…they organized it to be…

Ahh. See I don’t know. I did stuff. But…most of it was stuff I was told to do.

So I just…ate apple pie. With cheese. And got high. And they cleaned it up.

I guess we all almost died. Whatever! No big deal.” says JFK. “It’s not that big of deal. Chill!”

Only by Nine Inch Nails plays as Jack head bangs.

“So…just so you know…because Lem was involved…we think Joe Junior is Dr. David ‘Treb’ Allen of Dartmouth University and Elliott Roosevelt combined. Literally. Their identities were pulled out of time and turned into Joe Kennedy Junior. We may also think he’s Dr. Joseph Patrick Bartolotta. Literally.” says Billy Graham. “I mean literally. Those are possibly the exact men we assumed were combined to create Joe Kennedy Junior.

Treb was Lacey’s first huge crush. She had love for him. They were in AP classes together in high school. She never told him. He’s an exceedingly rare exception. …I think she thought it was beyond pointless if he didn’t notice her, even though she was extremely beautiful. And no. She doesn’t have low self-esteem or issues of stupidity. She just…has never been loved. So she assumed it was astronomically disrespectful to him to tell him her feelings. At all.

Joe Bartolotta…seemingly had feelings for Lacey. And he asked her out once to see a corny movie. But he wrote her love poems she never saw. He was very closeted, in a way, about his feelings for her. But people behind her back knew far more than she did and they told her.

Elliott Roosevelt was a great aviator. And a brilliant, very compassionate and very deep and very intelligent and very complicated person. He also has slept with her. As a ghost. And he was alive at that time. So no. These men aren’t Joe reincarnated.” says Billy Graham. “Grow up!!” he yells.

“So…those are the exact men. Anyone else? Or just us?” asks Treb in the afterlife.

“Just…you.” says Lem.

“Today is still all about them thinking you’re gay. Isn’t it?” says Treb in the afterlife.

“You’re incredibly smart. Are you smarter than me?” asks Dr. Moritz of Treb.

“Yes.” says his wife.

“I’m very smart.” says Dr. Moritz.

“You’re not teaching at Dartmouth.” says Yale.

“Anyway. You’re right.” says Lem to Treb.

“Is that all they care about?” asks Treb.

“Yes!! Jack is obsessed and we all worship him in America.” says an Illuminati psychic.

“Do you…escape?” asks Treb.

“Not easily. He’s our idol.” says America.

“So…huh. Okay.” says an American psychiatrist. “This is why I died?!?”

Little Lies by Mareux plays.

“Yes.” says Lem.

“Wow! And nobody believes Jack was even bisexual!?” she asks.

“He’s magic.” says a man in the Illuminati, possibly mostly self-deprecatingly or as a cry help.

“I slept with Satan to get rewards.” says Jack. “In Purgatory.”

“He’s not here. He ceased exist a while ago. Lacey told you that. You’re talking to him in the past.

It’s creepy how obsessed you all are with her. May I ask why?” asks the psychiatrist from Pittsburgh who was recently crushed.

“Because we hate her!” yells America.

“You hate a woman who’s family helped start the country? And who’s just been minding her own business her whole life!? That’s weird.” she says.

“FUCK YOU!!” America yells. “FUCK YOU, MARILYN! FUCK YOU, BOBBY. We sexy.”

The Rush by Bob Moses plays as Jack Kennedy dances.

“Rebel against God until we bust!” says Jack. “Dance PARTY!!”

He dances.

“Sexy FUCK!! Hot damn! OH WOW!!” yells JFK.

The Pittsburgh psychiatrist goes into shock. “I’m not Dr. Niles Crane.”

“Did we kill you? Sorry. Are you okay?” asks David Hyde Pierce.

“YES!

But if only if you’re evil. Otherwise I was killed as an attack on you, in a roundabout way.” she says. “Her whole family should have been crushed yesterday. It was a very quick, fairly painless death. But instead the Kennedys killed me. Because they want to maintain their psychotic delusions.”

“About Lem?” asks the CIA.

“I’m not analyzing that. Do your job.” she says.

“Hi!” says David Hyde Pierce. “I’m sorry you got killed.”

She smiles. “Yes. I was a fan of the show.”

David smiles. Then cries.

“Well. Gardening calls!” says Lacey.

Hush by The Marías plays.

“Did they almost die yesterday?” asks Kelsey Grammar.

“Yeah…well…kinda. There was a demonic assignment against them. But…it was a demon assignment so it was canceled by Jesus. Through Lacey. But then…the sick, evil people…couldn’t handle her being able to do that to protect herself so they killed me because they insisted something needed to happen because they want to feel important.” says the dead psychiatrist.

“So why you?” asks a man.

“Because Lem’s buried in Pittsburgh. And she understands Pennsylvania better than they do.” says the psychiatrist. “And that makes them jealous.”

“And because we were nice to her.” says Mr. Pierce.

“Yes!!” she yells.

Later.

The Moment by Tame Impala plays.

“We even invented Britney Spears to attack Lacey.” says JFK.

“Why!?” asks Marilyn Monroe.

“Because we were obsessed with Lem. Because we wanted his sexual love. All of us.” say the Kennedys.

“Why?” asks God.

“WHY!??” scoffs Lacey.

“Lacey’s vastly superior to Lem in bed.” says God. “And she’s better looking than him too. And kinder. And sweeter. And funnier. And she’s almost as intelligent.”

“I’m tiny bit smarter. That’s all.” says Lem.

“So she’s sexier than Lem and we seem like sexual worms compared to her.” says Kick Kennedy.

“No, you’re humans. But yes. As far as humans go you’re the gutter shit and she’s a Queen. In regard to sex.” says God.

They think, as best as they can.

“So why did you obsess over Lem?” asks God.

“We didn’t know he was objectively sexually inferior to her because he seemed closer to us.” says Kick.

“He’s still way above you. It’s laughable to compare yourselves to him. He’s driving a car and you’re still crawling, on good days.” says God. “You’re almost all worthless in bed. You’re almost all closer to sexual parasites.”

“Did Taylor ruin her career with them?” asks Kim.

“Possible.” says Italy. “But for real, Kim. She might have.”

“She seems fake now.” says Lacey. “Dating a Kennedy makes her seem fake.”

“It doesn’t affect you or anyone else in your generation that way.” says a reader. “Why?”

“Because…we’re the fertility generation. And they were Irish Catholic. Somehow it’s forgivable? Whereas now…it’s Cheryl. So…what…gives? Right? It’s like…weird looking. Unless you’re an activist or a social justice warrior…it looks…suspicious.” speculates Lacey.

“I look calculating and cocky.” says Taylor Swift.

“Yes.” says Lacey.

Lacey looks up Taylor Swift.

“You look good!” says Lacey to Taylor. “The fake lips and lighter blond look good.”

“It’s edgier.” says Kim.

“It’s retro. But…it just also looks better.” says Lacey.

Taylor laughs.

“I’m just being honest. I’m sorry. It’s a sophisticated look.” says Lacey.

“You look…amazing.” says a man to Taylor Swift.

“No not everyone can wear that. But she can.” says Lacey.

“It’s quite a contrast.” says David Hyde Pierce.

“Yes. But…what’s wrong with drama?” says Lacey.

“I agree.” says China to Lacey.

“I agree too.” says Tsar Putin.

“It’s very glamorous.” says Russia.

“I’m not going to comment because if I comment everyone will agree with me too much.” says Karl Lagerfeld.

“It’s so elegant.” says Lacey.

“It is.” says Karl Lagerfeld.

“OH MY GOD!!” yells JFK. “LACEY HAS A CRUSH ON TAYLOR SWIFT.”

“No. She doesn’t Jack. Her son might find Taylor attractive and so did Bobby’s son. But Lacey does not.” patiently explains China.

Jack shakes in rage. Stands-up and walks away in a huff.

“No. Lacey’s really not attracted to women.” says Karl Lagerfeld, trying to be patient.

Lacey races off to the gardening store with Lem.

She sits in their station wagon.

He’s driving.

“Did I just invent something!?” asks Lacey with caramel stuck between her teeth. She opens her mouth and shows the caramel, completely exasperated.

He looks at her.

“That’s a lot of caramel.” says Lem.

“No it’s not.” says Lacey.

“Why!?” asks Lem, laughing.

Lacey looks very serious, almost sad. “It’s- It’s the size of candy they give you.”

“Yeah.

Why stick the whole thing in your mouth?” asks Lem.

“It’s the size of the candy they give you.” says Lacey, patiently.

“Oh.” he says.

“It’s the size they give you.” says Lacey.

“Why do you care!?” he asks, exasperated.

“It’s what they do.” says Lacey.

“Bite size.” says Lem.

“Yes.” says Lacey.

“But you don’t stick the entire thing in your mouth.” says Lem.

“I have a small mouth.” says Lacey.

He winces. “Yeah. You do.”

“So. I thought perhaps they were perfectly sized for larger mouths. Like male mouths. Average size male mouths.” says Lacey.

He laughs.

“Well!? Are they!?” asks Lacey.

A man walks by them an falls over in laughter. He’s their age. Lacey laughs with him.

“Possibly.” says Lem.

“Really!?!!?” says Lacey.

Lem rubs his head. “Yeah.”

“NO!!” says Lacey.

“Yeah. It says bite size!” says a man sitting near them, their age.

“Yes! Are they being serious? My GOD!!! HELP ME!” says Lacey. She takes the candy and throws it.

“Can you eat it?” asks a woman their age.

“That’s hardly the point, deary.” says Lacey.

She turns around sad.

“What!? Are you poor?” asks Lacey.

Laughing, “Yes, actually.” she says.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” says Lacey, very slightly laughing. She hands the woman her bag of caramels.

“Thank you.” The woman eats a caramel flirtatiously.

Lacey looks sad. Thinks. “Why are we sitting near these miserable bitches?” she asks Lem.

“They came over to stand-up for you.” says Lem.