Drunk and Drunkard

Episode 1: Diluted Intellectual Clause-et Residual

Her day consists of a routine, rise out of bed at an early hour, to get ready to walk to work, while her lazy, decadent so-called, lover lays in bed half asleep, the remedial sponge, that is leeching off her incomes, from work, and her monthly spousal income from her not so recent separation from her husband. Her lover has no clue other then to sponge and soak in exchange for sexual favors so as not to have to look for a job, which would certainly be the furthest priority that would filter through the lecherous IQ of the booze soaked brain that occupies the waste of skin’s skull. She applies her makeup in a well rehearsed fashion, with her clothes all organized from the previous evening, before she started to inebriate her liver and destroy her brain cells with the consumed contents of the empty bottle of vodka, now resting on the middle of her small dining table, refracting the early autumn’s sun, shining through the opened blinds of the southern window. Thinking that she has it all together, and has no problems, other then her alcoholism, in which she views as a harmless vice to escape reality, and a release from the stresses of work, and her X-husband’s recent request to get a divorce, she continued her preparation to enter another workday. “Can you bring back supper tonight? I am not in the mood for cooking tonight.” requested the waste of skin, still lazing about in the bed. “You sit around the apartment all day, and never clean. The least you can do is cook, and smoke that crack somewhere else. If you don’t like it, leave. I don’t need to be supporting your lazy butt.” she said finishing her makeup. “Oh, so you want to go back to your X, right?” snapped the waste of skin, rolling over towards the edge of the bed. “At least he worked. What do you do? Nothing. You eat all my food and drink all my wine. So like I said, if you don’t like it, leave.” she continued, as she finished dressing, grabbing her purse and heading towards the door. “Clean this place up or leave! And have supper ready!” she commanded as she slammed the apartment door behind her. “Bitch!” said the waste of skin knowing she would not hear.

Walking to work, she was thinking about the conversation she had on Friday night with her X about him wanting a divorce. Her fear, she contemplated, was if she agreed to a mutual divorce, he may use that to stop the monthly payments. She also did not want him to know about her live-in spouse, that could be viewed as an income source she has not declared, not that her spouse brought in any money anyway. She was also warned by a legal friend, that if she changes her name back to her maiden name or otherwise, could forfeit the separation agreement. For now, she was satisfied that she bullied her X into believing she would not agree to the divorce unless he paid out the remainder of the monthly settlement to get this divorce.  She knew he wanted her back, but had no empathy towards this desire and put it out of her hung-over mind. In her view, she was much more satisfied with her female lover, even though she was a loser and a tramp, that was not good for much other then consumption and sexual activity. As she got closer to her workplace, she wondered how she would get to work in the winter, with her vehicle smashed up by her waste of skin lover. She had all the estimates, but found that she could not afford the cost. But she knew she had to bite the bullet and pay for the repairs. She also knew that her waste of skin lover would not ever get the keys again.

Back at the apartment, the waste of skin was talking on her cell phone. “Yeah, come on over. She went to work. We have a few hours. Ok, see you soon.” said the waste of skin as she ended the call. She turned on the radio and started dancing around, as she grabbed the bottle of wine from the fridge and poured a glass. She was in her underwear, white and black panties, which were more like a G-string, and matching bra. Her body was lean and hard, and had rose tats on her stomach, shoulders and neck. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. She stopped dancing and placed her glass of wine on the coffee table, then went towards the door. “Jimmy?” she asked before opening the door. “Yeah.” answered a adolescent toned voice behind the door. She opened the door and she jumped up on him, straddling her thin shapely limbs around his waist, and her arms around his neck. They kissed passionately as Jimmy carried her through the threshold and kicked the door closed, then carried her into the bedroom, throwing her on the bed. He undressed quickly and they made love.

Later, they were both on the bed relaxing and smoking a cigarette. “So Tarla, did you talk the old bitch into a threesome yet?” asked Jimmy puffing on his smoke. “No, her X has been calling so it is not a great time to ask. I will though when the time is right and when she is drunk. But I think she hates men, so I do not know if she will go for it anyway.” said Tarla butting out her smoke. “They cancelled that credit card account that we used her X’s credit information to get. I tried to re-open it, but he must of found out and changed the information with Trans Union because I cannot use the card anymore.” said Jimmy as he held his smoke, resting his hand on his hairless chest. “That sucks. We are going to have to find another way to get money. Her credit is in the toilet so we would not get anything out of her, said Tarla as she got up and started to dress. “Jimmy just laid there and finished hos smoke. “Come on Jimmy. You have to leave. I have to clean up this place and plan supper. If we ever hope to con her to do a threesome, I have to butter her up. Once we have her into that, she will pay us both to keep our mouth shut, once we get us on video.” said Tarla with a devious grin. “Do I have to? She wont be back for hours.” said Jimmy not wanting to leave the bed. “Get out now!” demanded Tarla as she ripped the blanket off Jimmy’s naked body. Jimmy reluctantly got up, butted out his smoke, and got dressed. “May be you can come out and visit tonight? We could go to the bar and dance.” suggested Jimmy putting his shoes on in the hall by the door. “Not tonight. I have to start paying attention to her and get her back on track. She is ready to throw me out. So, I am staying in tonight, so go!” said Tarla as she pointed towards the door. Jimmy opened the door and swiftly stole a kiss from Tarla as he walked out the door. He turned around to look at her as she slammed the door in his face. “Tarla!” exclaimed Jimmy in protest behind the closed door.

To be continued, if the world lasts that long…

“Tex” oNid ittEnEbEd (sHow nO mErcY)

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