Another piece from the forthcoming book. This guy thought he was schizophrenic when he was actually bipolar, how retarded can you be?
I had a fiancé once who was born with the name Steve Tweet. He changed his last name because people made fun of him. He was worthy of the mocking though. I had just gone on psychiatric medication for bipolar disorder. We got into a fight one night after going to his parents’ house because I praised James Joyce, a man his moronic parents found too high-brow a writer for me to mention.
“Do you know how you sounded?” he screams at me. “James Joyce wouldn’t write a book called An Honest Day of Blowjobs.”
An Honest Day of Blowjobs was the second novel I’d written, a book that Tweet had not even read.
“Fuck you,” I say to him, enraged partially by mismedication.
“I’m calling your parents unless you take Zyprexa,” he says.
“Fine, call them,” I retort.
My parents had fallen in love with his athletic body and ordinary good looks. Not to mention that he was a lawyer and accountant, though only working for his father as an accountant at the time. Little did my parents know that his cock was broken by using a penis pump to lengthen his large penis but was unable to finish a fuck and had to stop before he came. Though my parents would have had no problem with my marrying a freak or moron like this, they only cared about appearances and money.
I was desperate to get out of prostitution and only got engaged to this man, who was stupid and boring and whom I actually despised, since my parents treated me better when I was in a relationship. I would have dumped him as soon as I was in law school. He had actually been a john when I worked as a whore, so I knew what a piece of shit he was. I was just using him until he was no longer necessary to propitiate my parents.
He picked up the phone and started telling my parents that I was out of control, even lying about me hallucinating, and said that I would never pass the mental fitness part of the California Bar Exam, which he had not even taken himself. Oh, did I mention that he was schizophrenic? He showed me the Hollywood potboiler A Beautiful Mind to break it to me that he had this mental illness.
My parents took his advice and did not give me the money they’d pledged for living expenses at law school.
The next day he broke up with me, ending our engagement. My parents said I could go to a lesser university in a state where I did not want to live, much less work as an attorney. I shouldn’t have even applied there.
I quit the straight job that Tweet had obtained for me at an architecture firm and went back to the sex industry. I couldn’t whore myself to an architectural firm for minimum wage any longer. I’d only had what’s considered a respectable job for the sake of the engagement.
My anger towards my parents grew exponentially. I blamed them for every trick I turned. I am obviously glad not to be a lawyer now. At the time I felt that it was my only option if I wanted to make a decent living at something I felt would be easy for me.
I got an email from Tweet a few years ago: “I’m writing a book of quotes. Could you talk to your agent for me?” I have since ditched my agent, but, if I had sent him Tweet’s work, they would have been closer than bedbugs in a bed. I hope that each one has all of his fabric ruined by the pernicious beasts. There is nothing worse to curse someone with than bedbugs. You might as well set fire to everything they own.
In this text, Jennifer describes how superior people should not try to get along with, much less marry, inferior people. Until she met a superior person, like herself, she was constrained by the exigencies of the patriarchy in the USA and an upbringing that did not allow her to fully express her own essential identity. This happens to a lot of women, so the story illustrates a choice of whoring retail instead of whoring wholesale. I agree with her diagnosis that the problem depends upon her never receiving any support whatsoever from anybody. Basically, this loser is no more than funny, but his behavior forced her back into prostitution, thereby qualifying him as a scumbag, and in fact the one she says that she hates most of all her actual exes.