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Sunday, July 31, 2011

131 Matilda Part 1

“What’s her name?” Stacy touched the front hood with her painted nails.

“I dunno. What d’ya mean?”

She murmured something under her breath and slid the soft tips of her fingers along the gleaming paint, which was the color of desert dust.

Stacy looked back up into my face. “All young guys have a name for their cars. I know that you must have one for her. She’s cute.”

I smiled. “I call her Matilda.”

“That’s a cool name. It sounds old fashioned. Is it a family name? Your grandmother?”

“No, my grandmother’s name was Adelaide. I call my little rocket ship ‘Matilda’ because it’s a name from a scary story I read back when I was eight.”

“Adelaide is a pretty name. You should have used that. Why call this little car a name that reminds you of a scary story?”

“I dunno. Prolly trying to reclaim something.”

“What was the scary story about?”

“You sure you want to hear? It’s pretty weird.”

“You’re pretty weird. I’m kidding! Yes, I’d like to hear this scary story of yours.”


“Well, it was about these sisters, and one is really pretty, and one is jealous. The pretty one is about to get married, but she dies in a farming accident. At the funeral, the jealous sister knows that the pretty one is being buried in some shoes that everyone always admired. So she steals them shoes off her dead sister’s body when no one is looking. Then they bury her sister.

“It was a dark and stormy night, and the rain falls so hard that it causes the freshly shoveled dirt on the grave to wash away. The front door to their house is directly below the cemetery that sits on the top of a hill that is soggy now. The jealous sister can hear her dead, beautiful sister calling to her all through the storm.

“I want my shoes back.”

“It friggin creeps her out, big time. Matilda’s coffin washes down the mudslide and her jealous sister opens the door to see what is making all the ruckus, and the coffin smashes into the front steps. Matilda’s body crashes into her, killing her.”

“Dayam Will, that’s pretty creepy.”

“Yeah, shit gave me nightmares. But that’s not all. I was haunted by that ghost story. One day later, me and Ralphie, who lived down the hill from me, well, we’d been playing digger in my front yard, with the Tonka Toys, and we dug up a bone. From then on, I could not sleep at night. I kept thinking that it was Matilda, and she was coming for me next.”

“You need help.”

“Huh. Guess I do.”

“So you named your car Matilda because of that creepy story?”

“Yup. Trying to reclaim my fear of the dark. You name things in order to have control over them.”

“Reclaim it from who?”

“From the dark.”

“Did it work?”


“You know, I met a devil once. He has a place he hides. He’s like Anarchy or someshit.”

“Will, you need to take a breath from all this. You need a mental escape. Let’s go watch a movie like you said at Manchester Cinemas.”

“Mental Escape. I like that. But East Cinemas has a flick I was hoping to show you.”

“You’re gonna take me to Enemas? Oh my gawd?”

“Easy now. It’s just a comedy. Son Of Frankenstein. It’s awesome.”

“Wait, I have a better idea. Let’s see what Matilda can do against my car.”

“What’s her name?”

“I just call her a bitch when she doesn’t start.”

“That’s funny.”

“It’ll be funny when you eat my dust.”

“Me and Matilda will make you cry when you are covered in dust.”

Game was ON.


“Dear Matilda, I found you smoking and drinking, and I tore you apart in my bedroom. I rebuilt you back up with my own bare hands. You were my rocket ship. Lorelei became my captain to the moon, but you were the rocket.

Then I broke your heart.

You went on saving me when I was in panic mode until your last breath, beside that police station in Clovis.”

What is it about a man and his bitch? Why do they have such an effect on us?

There are some things in your life that will make a great difference, in the grand scheme of things. Even if, perhaps, there is no grand scheme.

Perhaps we are essentially all alone here on this tiny blue marble in the eternity of space, to be connected once again in the aftermath by the strings to each other that we once forged when we were alive.

Yeah, we lost the race against Stacy and her own bitch. And we all lost each other in the desert dust.

A biker would see to that.

Next time.

Sorry about that my friend.


Testing for Multiple Universes. By Scientists. Me likey.

Saturday cartoon for ya. Made by tiny people on a beach.

History of Internet Browser Usage. Are you really still using Windows Explorer? Dude?

Open your eyes.

Maybe you will see something else?

You could discover some interesting facts.

OK, sorry about that. I offer you a funny site with a man bouquet of bacon. Bacon will always be awesome.

I wish some of these Urban Legends were true. That’d be cool. Or not.

We could make us some money if we were smart enough to have done these things.

Just remember to compile our experiences in the most efficient manner possible.

Otherwise, you may FAIL.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

OK, one more for ya. Old school, like from the 50’s. But new.

The Generationals. When They Fight.


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