[stylist] CK prompt response

Tue Feb 12 22:58:45 UTC 2013

Chris,
Very descriptive. I love the image of the whiskey flowing over the keyboard,
around the p ... Sad, though, I hope it's not terribly autobiographic.
Donna 

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Chris Kuell
Sent: Tuesday, February 12, 2013 10:11 AM
To: Stylist
Subject: [stylist] CK prompt response

Okay, I fudged a little and used the song lyric starting with the second
line, but I felt I needed the first line for setting the scene. And, go
ahead and feel free to poke fun of me for using a Nickelback song (my kids
do), but I picked the number 7, and this is the song that came up on my
ipod. All comments welcome.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

By Chris Kuell

Large, pale green letters glow brightly on the surface of the monitor.

Never made it as a wise man

I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing

Tired of living as a blind man

I'm sick of sighing without a sense of feeling

And this is how you remind me

Of how I really am

This is how you remind me

Of what I really am

It's not like you to say sorry

I was waiting on a different story

This time I'm mistaken

For handing you a heart worth breaking

I've been wrong, I've been down

To the bottom of every bottle

These five words in my head

Scream- Are we having fun yet?

I lean forward, clutch my old friend Jack Daniels shakily and take a long
pull. I put it down on the edge of my mouse pad, where the bottle  spins
slowly, then topples down and splashes sweet whiskey all over my desk and
keyboard. Shit. Oh well, I guess it is only what I deserve, Useless drunk.
This is how, you remind me.

I want to pick up the bottle, but instead I stare intently at the flowing
liquid. The liquor courses through the keyboards like a downhill slalom
skier. Zigging around the p then a quick right at the semi-colon. 

I glance up at the monitor, taking a full second to focus. With great
effort, I can make the red letters of the clock coalesce into the numerals
11:48 PM. The house is quiet, she isn't home yet. No phone calls, no
warning, no nothing. A ham and potatoes dinner waiting on a plate for her in
the kitchen, more than 5 hours cold. I nearly tossed it around 9, but
couldn't bring myself to do it. What a doormat. Are we having fun yet?

I manage to hit the delete key. Mister computer, not trusting my judgment on
this, asks me if I'm sure I want to delete? I miss the enter key for yes and
get the backspace, but I get it on the second try. Drivle erased. These
words in my head, I put them down and life goes on. Where is she? I can
guess. I almost called there a half dozen times. My fingers find their way
to the wet home keys and type - I may be stupid, but I'm not a dweeb. I'm
just a sucker with no self-esteem. 

I lean forward and put my lips down on my desktop. Puckering up, I slurp up
the spilled whiskey in what I call the Hoover maneuver. Not bad, I get a
shots' worth, and this makes me smile. Then, I imagine her, with him. And,
this is how you remind me, of how I really am. 

The tear burns as the salt in my eyes collects and concentrates on
irritating the swollen blood vessels. The pain is sharp and welcomed.

Who am I kidding? I'll never make a buck at this, I'm just wasting my time.
Cold ham on a plate, whiskey on the keyboard. Putting down dreams of whom
and where I'd rather be. Wasting my life.

Are we having fun yet?

Note: Some lyrics were plagiarized in part from the songs - How You Remind
Me by the group Nickelback and Self Respect" by the group OffSpring 

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