Ode to Dude

Dude.
Shut up about your wife already. Everything is her fault. Blah dee dah.
If she's such a bitch why don't you just divorce her and move on?

Dude.
I barely know you but I already hate you. Are you trying to break the ice by looking for some shared misogynistic common ground?
Look somewhere else for that validation.

Dude.
Seriously man. When I told you that some of my best friends are women so can you cool it with the cunt talk? - I wasn't kidding. You should be happy that you met a woman who hates herself enough to let you fuck her.

Dude.
Every time you start with the bitch talk I am going to pick a random subject from Google news and rant about it. In great detail.
Hmmm... current trouble in Afghanistan... Heroin production is way up. You can't really understand Afghanistan without some basic historical knowledge. Let's go back to 1979 and start with the former USSR's invasion- what? You never heard about that? So I guess you know nothing about this at all...sigh...
Well, a long time ago-way before 1979- there used to be this thing called the British Empire and the British East India Company, which was sort of like a Halliburton for Ye Olde Times and they traded a lot of this' opium' stuff that was a great way for government to exploit and destroy their poorest constituents before we had petrol, television and crack cocaine. The Chinese liked it so much they pawned Hong Kong to the English as a result of their habit.

Let me explain it to you in an extremely inaccurate and biased fashion.
For an hour.
Fun to listen to , huh?

Dude.
Even I get tired of listening to me rant about global politics for an hour. If you insist on disparaging your wife you leave me no choice but to turn the subject towards adultery. Let me tell you about all the married girlfriends I've had. There's only two, but I'm going to lie to you and tell you there's been dozens. You may be married to one. Imagine your wife fucking another guy. Every time I mention adultery I know that's what's flashing in your dimly-lit corridor of thought. I'm a sadistic bastard sometimes.

Dude.
During my recent six-year booze binge the only women I "dated" were married women. Most of the time I didn't know about the husband until , um, after it was too late, ya know? Those women didn't complain about their husbands to me- they usually never even mentioned they had a husband.
I have sometimes wondered what these poor cuckolds were like- how wretched they must be that they drive their women to seek solace in a Motel 8 with someone as utterly fucked-up and undesirable as myself.
Who are these men that made me look so good in comparision?

Dude.
Thanks for the perspective on that.


...and the rest of the afternoon passed in silence, broken only by the occasional staccato outburst of typing...