Author Archives: L.

Why by Bronski Beats plays.

The Ladies of Madison Avenue have…changed. Changed into different clothes, that is.

Why?

They found out that Bobby Kennedy Junior has a fetish for Joyce Meyers. And “leather.”

The song plays.

The Ladies of Madison Avenue…are…looking for some fun.

And…maybe one of them will be chosen. For his running mate. Because hey! You never know.

“Hold-on if there’s anything to this are you guys working for Hillary?” asks a reader.

“You know…

SHIT!” says “a woman.”

“That’s OK!

Oh yeah.

I have a lot to spare!

OK?

The fluid runs real clean.

I check the engine regularly. I feed it only the finest of-

I’m hilarious!

The finest of ingredients as they call it. And ahh…you know…I just keep it going real…real smooth…real clean. Real mint. And ah…so that’s-that’s just how I roll…and I’m sorry you don’t understand.” says RFK Jr..

IPlayYouListen by ODESZA plays.

Bobby likes to live like it’s still the 1980’s in his mind. And he’s too stupid to realize how dumb his attitude and mannerisms and mindset looks today. He’s too trashy. And narcissistic. And…what? Just…disgusting?

He gets naked and wears a pair of “shades” from Ray Ban circa 1980’s he keeps. His “lucky sunglasses.”

“I’m Mahat…ma…Ghandi.” says Bobby taking off his sunglasses slowly. He throws them off to the side while shoving his fist in his pocket. He laughs and smirks and laughs some more.

“Bobby!” they cheer.

“BOBBY!” they cheer in unison, doing their best to pretend in this moment that they’re happy. Because this is a moment when they…can…pretend…to be happy.

He laughs, being too stupid to understand that they’re genuinely not necessarily serious or really at all sincere.

(Adult content below)

They then all have sex. What kind of sex?

Closer by Nine Inch Nails plays for them.

One woman suddenly vomits.

Another woman looks confused.

And still another woman won’t stop dancing. She’s distant friends with Elon Musk and she’s high on Molly.

Bobby feels it’s been successful so far. He nods and smiles.

“WOOHOO!!” he yells.

And another woman starts making purchases on her cell phone. She may be having a manic episode.

“YEAH BABY!!” yells Bobby. “GIVE IT TO ME!!”

It turns out…only one woman is really getting much attention. So she starts to get into it. …Almost too into it.

And as the song plays on…she…ahh..makes the others…well jealous.

“Bobby!” yells a woman doing sexual activity to get his attention.

He debates. Should he…keep trying to convince people he’s “Bobby Kennedy Junior” or actually enjoy the sex. It’s clear he’s incredibly torn. He looks almost ready to cry. Finally…he decides to go over to the woman and start trying to fuck her.

Within a half an hour he’s ran around the room trying to fuck them all. It’s hard to keep tabs on who to spend the most time in. How many times does he go in and out of each woman. And then they’re all getting too aroused to be okay with him being in any one else but them. They all…are rather narcissistic. It’s getting…troubling.

There are…too many of them. But…to Bobby “more is always better.” “The more the merrier.”

Merrier? …No.

Bobby is trying to convince himself he’s enjoying himself. But he’s a little tired…and aged…and…he’s rarely had this many women at once. There are like 30 women there. But..he’s never run for US President before.

Poor Bobby. He has no idea what he’s doing.

Return of the Mack by Mark Morrison plays.

“BOBBY! Would you die for me!?” asks the woman on molly.

“YES!!” Bobby yells inside of another woman.

The woman in the song sounds aroused. Bobby looks suddenly filled with despair. His face sinks. He genuinely looks ready to cry.

Breathless he races across the room looking for her. Then he pauses and wonders if he’s heading schizophrenic voices. He blinks. Suddenly he’s a bit dizzy. He walks slowly around the room with his Viagra erection…

“IS EVERYONE HAVING FUN!?” he yells.

He bends over to regroup, hands on knees, with an erection.

It’s Not Unusual by Tom Jones plays for Bobby and his crowd of women.

“Can you all just fuck each other?!” yells Bobby.

“I’M HOT!!” yells a woman.

“BOBBY!!” yells another woman.

“FUCK EACH OTHER!!” yells Bobby.

A woman walks up to and offers to suck his cock to get rid of his erection.

“You fucking bitch! I’m used to this! I have these all the fucking time!” yells Bobby at her. He’s really annoyed.

“Bobby, this is our special space to share…and I’m not getting a good read on your energy.

I think you need to regroup in a separate room and just let the women in the room finish themselves off.

Nobody in here is a virgin Bobby. So I think you’re fine to just take a breather and leave.” says the woman who offered to suck his cock.

Bobby gets angry and pushes her. She’s falls into a group of women having sex with each other. She screams and they thankfully catch her.

Bobby throws a chair against the wall.

Then Bobby throws another chair against the wall.

They mostly all notice. 10 run out of the room. Then they all do. Calmly.

Bobby starts smashing a hole in the wall with a bat.

Whatever You Like by T. I. plays for them.

He smashes the bat clear through the wall. With an erection.

“LOVE!!” yells Bobby. He’s trying to express himself. He keeps smashing holes into the walls and laughing.

Then he lights his bed on fire.

“Par for the course. When Jack got too stupid he’d do stupid stuff too. I…would have been in the other room masturbating.

So…that’s why you can’t make assumptions.” says Lem. He yawns. “You’ve heard the story about JFK running around the hotel in Philadelphia naked on meth? Yeah. That’s like this.”

Bobby has had someone inject a sedative into him. The fire alarm went off and Cheryl decided to “intervene.”

“It’s not…that serious. Chill-out.” says Cheryl. “You’re running for US President.”

They all leave. Bobby rests.

You know…nobody finished. And it got weird. But…he did technically have sexual vagina-penis etc. contact with them. So…there’s that? He…can feel some…sense of satisfaction? Or bragging rights. And I’m sure he’ll brag and alter things. They always do.

*Lacey laughs* “What’s truth is truth. God is truth. And there’s nothing else. Get it into your dialect. Get it into your mind. You can’t…run. There’s no where to go. Literally.” says Lacey. “Hell…is only Hell. Not Heaven.”

bad idea! by girl in red plays.

Bobby Kennedy dances on a platform. He’s surrounded by the Ladies of Madison Avenue. They try to dance sexy to the song.

“You undid my bra and threw my clothes down on the floor! You said, ‘Darling are you ready for more!?’” sings this woman shaking her mildly ugly ass.

“Oh my God. Lem was gay! I see the light!” says this guy.

“Why do you think that?” asks George Bush.

“ because these are the only women that ever have existed?” he says in fear, sincerely.

Burning by Yeah Yeah Yeahs plays.

Holy Dances by Beach House plays next as this woman plays percussion and dances slowly:

This woman gets out a tambourine:

Her bracelets also make noise.

I Will Run from You by Cemeteries plays.

“Wow!” says Asia to Lacey laughing.

“What? The heroin?” says Lacey.

Asia nods and smiles, lovingly.

Lacey suddenly becomes serious.

And at that Bobby and a herd of these women run by. He’s leading the pack.

“What are you running from!?” asks Lacey, inquisitively.

The song shifts to In the Middle of the Night by Still Corners. They all try to dance like snakes.

“Circle!” says this woman like a zombie.

“Bow! Darling bow!” says Lacey, mockingly but with command.

The woman, obtuse-as-fuck, and arrogant, and crass and shitty, and conceited-as-Hell bows. She misses Lacey’s tone and thinks Lacey’s horribly, embarrassingly intimidated and lesbian.

“You keep focusing on my face. It’s OBVIOUS your in love with me!” she says sincerely.

She leans in for a kiss and Lacey stabs her in the gut.

Lem laughs at the woman laying on the floor.

“Does anyone else wanna try it!??” asks Lacey, trying to sound like a cross between Bugsy and Scotia.

A gay man giggles with Lem.

Lacey takes out a handgun and shoots him in the head cold, perfect and quick.

“I’m resting.” says Lem.

“Or you’d have shot him yourself?” asks another gay man.

And at that Lem takes out a gun and shoots him next.

“I’m sorry!” says Lacey, sincerely to Lem.

“It’s cool. We’ll work on it.” says Lem.

“Oh! Oh! He means she’s not coming quickly enough!” says Bobby Kennedy Junior. “But as a man!”

“Yes!!!” screams this woman:

“You need to be alone, Lacey!” says this man condescendingly.

“That’s repulsive. I need her pussy tonight and I need the body attached.” says Lem.

And at the he weeps in what he psychotically believes is his personal profound misery.

10 Mile Stereo by Beach House plays.

“You know. You don’t look convincing to me anymore, Lem.” says Al Franken.

“Aww! How precious!!” says Lem mocking him.

“So you’re gay?” asks Al Franken, sincerely.

“No!” says Lem laughing. “I never was gay. Sweetie…they all look alike. It’s a fake thing.”

“But homosexuality is real!” says Al Franken.

“Yes! But…the mannerisms are not. They’re…faked. I faked them. You just bug-out your eyes. Nobody is born that way. And so…if those eyes are part of homosexual development…like when a man’s balls drop…they’re freaks. Because nobody has natural eyes like that. That’s fake.” says Lem.

“Jumped into the River!” sings Thom Yorke in Pyramid Song by Radiohead.

“There was nothing to fear! Nothing to doubt!” sings Joe Kennedy Junior accidentally.

“No! Gay men don’t get ‘gay eyes’ during puberty. And we aren’t born that way!” says a dead gay Black man.

“Then why did you force Millennials to believe you from the bottom of our hearts…upon penalty of death?” asks Billy Graham.

“Okay! Those mannerisms came naturally to me. I didn’t fake them. They felt natural.” says the dead gay man.

“Yes! Why do you lie violently to me about that!??” says Lem.

“Because you were gay!” say all living gay men.

“You seriously don’t like that I could impersonate your eyes?” says Lem. “It’s not something…you’re born with. You adapted your muscles to make that look.”

“Yeah. That’s fact. Kids could imitate it too. But it’s fake. In a way. Shit!” says a dead gay man.

“YES! And I impersonated it.” says Lem. “I was brilliant at impersonating people.”

“Okay. And you did that why again!?” asks a dead gay man, exasperated but trying to be empathetic.

“Because…I thought I was gay!” says Lem.

The dead gay man laughs. Shakes his head no. Laughs.

“Damn. You were smart.” he says.

“I was!” says Lem.

The dead gay man looks horrified, but controls himself. “WHY!?!” he asks Lem.

“Because…I thought I was gay.” says Lem.

“People don’t do that!!” he says to Lem.

“Don’t do what!?” asks Lem.

“They don’t…go to…that much trouble…because they think they’re something.” says the dead black gay man.

“No!! I do! And so does Lacey!” says Lem.

“So do I!” says Mark Schiebel.

“Actually we all do.” says a psychologist.

“Yeah. It’s real.” says another psychologist.

“But not in that way!” says a dead gay Black man.

“In what way?” asks Lem.

“You would read about a character from a book…and then decide you are that…and then impersonate that!?” he asks Lem.

“Yeah.” says Lem.

“Oh no! Oh no, no, no!” says the dead gay Black man, laughing.

Lem and Lacey look quiet and disturbed.

“But Lem you put so much effort into it!” he says.

“YES!!” says Lem.

He looks at Lem, laughing. “WHAT THE FUCK!!?”

“No. It’s what I did.” says Lem.

“But…that’s so much effort!” he says again, in astonishment.

“Yeah. So? It’s just…something to do?” says Lem.

“Hmm. So you studied us.” says the dead gay Black man.

“Yup!” says Lem.

The dead gay Black man smiles. “You’re like a…weird…person who does this:

It’s just…creepy. And you’re not that creepy.” says the dead gay Black man.

“Yes. But…it was…not a fetish…or…a fascination…or…anything like that. I’m an incredibly sincere…deep…honorable person and I wanted to be…good.” says Lem.

“That’s so…isolated.” says another living human.

“Yeah! But…I was that smart.” says Lem.

“Oh okay.” she says.

“I’m unusually intelligent.” says Lem.

“So! Now there’s a new statue of you.” says this woman:

T

I’m On Fire by Chromatics plays as Bobby Kennedy Junior slow dances with this woman in the background:

Or is it this woman:

It’s unclear

“Oh, I get it! So you’re fake and you inspire Caroline Calloway!” yells an irate reader at Lacey.

“That’s an interesting thing to bring-up.” says Lem as he and Lacey ignore the random weird hater. “Do I look real there? What’s real?”

“If that’s me. Do I look…gay?

I wasn’t.

But…I look the same. So…

How real do I look? Hey! Maybe I’m not that intimate with EVERYONE.” says Lem.

“You look like yourself if that’s you, sweetie.” says a Millennial mom. “You remind me of Mark Zuckerberg. And I doubt he’s gay either.”

“True!” says Lem.

“Lem…you had plans. Why did you stop yourself?” asks another Millennial mom.

“I thought I was pure evil.” says Lem.

“What were your plans?” asks another Millennial mom.

“I wanted to take over the world. Truly. But I thought that was…typical. So…I admonished myself and let it go.” says Lem. “Jack didn’t want to. He didn’t even understand it. And I thought that was far holier. But…I also thought he was an idiot. …I looked down on him. …And no I wasn’t in love with him. I was…determined to be…helpful.”

“Aww! Look at Jack hanging out with King Constantine!” says one of the Millennial moms, in sweet awe of Jack. She longs to cradle his gay mind in her self-perceived profoundly loving arms.

“Yes! But what does Emperor Constantine think and feel about it? He looks unhappy.” says Lacey.

“OH FUCK YOU!” yell all the Millennial moms suddenly flashing Lacey with their panty-less stinky vaginas. They grossly pose long enough for Georgia O’Keefe to paint their photos if she’s not mistaken and stupid.

“You are a fool Lacey. We are superior! SUPERIOR! SUPERIOR! SUPERIOR!

But you gotta save us anyway!

So that’s the thing. We don’t wanna work! We don’t wanna be bad! We just wanna fucking be the best and we don’t even know what the fuck that is cause we’re basically almost dirt!” says a Lady of Madison Avenue.

“Yup. I don’t give a shit about Lem or Emperor Constantine either. They can rot in Hell!” say vast swaths of America, but most loudly Bobby’s crew of Ladies of Madison Avenue.

“See part of it is that we’re hoping Bobby will fuck us all later. He promised us he would, and most of us haven’t had sex with someone who wants us in a really long time. And I know you say part of that is how we act and our attitude and our superiority complexes and the way we dress and our disdainful attitude of all men as the hateful lesbian Nazi bitches that we are. But not real Nazis but Lacey we don’t want to.

We believe in the power of the Women Selma, Alabama, in 1918. We believe in the power of the sex gods of Darkness. We believe in you.” say the Ladies of Madison Avenger Avenue.

Roe versus Wade we believe in the power of the women who marched on Selma, Alabama, 1918