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Deserving Of The Talk by Ray Printer Friendly

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I got home today, all primed to write, only to discover that if I sat in front of my computer monitor for more than ten minutes at a time, I would begin to doze off. I only mention it because I said last night that I planned on coming straight home from my last class of the semester and writing.

I didn’t do that. What I did was, I sat around wondering what I was going to write about that would keep me from falling asleep.

Until I saw the comment my sister Leslie wrote in the above-linked article. One of the things I really love about The Strangelands is how a throw-away post like that can result in my sister having to explain to my mom about rik’s corpse shooting candy out of its ass.

Where do you even start explaining something like that? “Oh, I was just laughing because Ray said he was going to shoot candy out of rik’s ass.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry—she’ll be dead.”

“Dead? Why?”

“Oh, because Ray was going to kill her.”

“Are you…why?

“Well, at this point, pretty much just so he can shoot Jolly Ranchers out of her ass.”

Sometimes, I feel kind of bad that my mom ever encounters the stuff I write here. Sure, she brings it on herself at times, when she decides to brave the waters and see what kind of heresy and filth her degenerate son is spouting at the moment. Honestly, she should know better by now.

But to just call up your daughter and be sucked into this mess? Like I said—sometimes I feel kind of bad about it. But other times—like tonight—I’ll remember life with my mother, and then I don’t feel so bad.

Tonight, the specific memory that alleviated my guilt was this:

One night, I’m on my way out of the house, right? It was a strange set of living conditions, because I was relatively old at the time—mid-twenties, probably. I was in the middle of plans to move out of town, and had sold my house to my mom. Because it wasn’t quite time for me to move, she allowed me to stay with her, under the condition that I helped her renovate the house. Which means I was in my mid-twenties, living with my mom. Yep, I’m that cool.

So I’m about to leave—with rik, as a matter of fact—and my mom’s sitting on the couch, watching TV. I’m pretty sure rik could tell you what show my mom was watching, but if I ever knew the name of it, it was erased by the words that came out of my mother’s mouth as I was gathering my things to leave.

“Hey, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s ‘doggystyle?’”

In the movies, this is where the protagonist would comically spew whatever he’s drinking out all over the place. I didn’t have the benefit of a beverage, so I just dropped my backpack on the floor and looked really confused. I glanced at rik, hoping for some sort of salvation, but she was just shaking her head and laughing.

“I…what?

“Doggystyle. This lady has a call-in show, and people ask her questions. This guy was just asking about doggy-style. That’s some kind of sex thing?”

“We…no, we aren’t having this conversation.”

“Oh, just tell me.”

“I won’t.”

Quick side-story—this was around the time that my first nephew was beginning to say “No,” to his parents. They fell back on the traditional, “You don’t tell me ‘no!’” And because he was a little freakin’ genius even at two or whatever, he quickly came up with, “I won’t.” I really liked that, and began substituting it into my own communications. Make fun if you want, but I’ve learned some of my best expressions from kids who could barely talk.

So, yeah, happy-break over—back to the part where my mom’s inquiring about doggy-style.

“Yeah, Ray,” rik says, because even though she seems like the victim around here a lot, she really is quite a bastard. “Tell your mom about doggy-style.”

“We’re leaving.”

“We have time,” rik said. Did I mention that we were using her vehicle that night? We were.

“She told the caller that it was a good way to change things up. You know about it?”

“Yes, I know about it, but I’m not telling you!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re my mother.”

This went on for a while, and to this day, I still have the sneaking suspicion that it was a set-up. My mother is not what you would call sexually open. In fact, I once had a friend who joked with her about “this filthy, degrading, sinful act that you only do with someone you love,” and my mom whole-heartedly agreed. Not because she gets mad kinky, but because she tends to believe sex is a disgusting thing. Frankly, I’m usually very happy about her prudish viewpoint.

I don’t know if she was feeling curious that night, or if maybe she was just lonely and was hoping that rik and I would hang out for a while, chatting it up. Whatever it was, her question did nothing to make me want to stick around.

I left as soon as possible, scarred for life. rik laughed about that shit for probably forty-five minutes.

So when my mom ends up hearing about my plan to kill rik and shoot candy out of her ass at passers-by, I don’t feel that bad for either of them. Maybe a little bad for my sister, until I remember about the time that my mom gave me “the talk.”

Which leads us into our next story.

I was jumping on the trampoline with my sister one day, we’re goofing around, laughing, making jokes, calling each other names, whatever. And I made the mistake of using a Breakfast Club quote: “You’re a neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie!”

Ray Lee Weeks!” Mom yelled across the yard. She was busy painting the side of the house, because that’s the kind of shit my mom was always doing. Painting, building, destroying. If you didn’t need power-tools, post-hole diggers, or a paintbrush to do it, she wasn’t interested.

“What?” I asked. I recognized from the tone of her voice and from the fact that she had yelled out my entire name that I was in trouble. Honestly, though, I didn’t know what I was in trouble for.

So I go over, and my mom asks me what did I just call my sister, and I tell her. I knew what a maxi pad was at this point in my life, okay? I knew about sex and penises and vaginas and menstrual cycles and even blowjobs. My neighbor had a subscription to Penthouse, and I was a dumpster-diver, man, what can I say?

But I didn’t make the connection between the strange quoted insult and the other bit. Long story short: My mom asks me to climb up the ladder to get something for her, and then she traps me up there while she tells me about sex.

The entire time, I’m all embarrassed, telling her to stop, and she’s telling me that it’s important I know this, and my sister’s over there on the trampoline, laughing her ass off.

So, yeah—all in all, I think it’s fine that the situation with the rik-corpse candy-firing ass dispenser thing worked out like it did.

My next goal is to make it to where one day my sister will have to explain to my mom why I was writing about rik giving handjobs to donkeys.


posted 5/09/08


Comments:
Entered By Anonymous From Unknown
2008-05-09 22:52:54

does the donkey dispense jolly ranchers as well? or m & m's with R's instead of M's?


Entered By D From hometown
2008-05-09 22:54:03

you know how hard it is going to be to keep a straight face the next time i go to pay my water bill?


Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-05-09 23:49:14

We'll dress the donkey up in leather, it'll dispense specially-made candies called S&M's. D: Don't worry, my mom doesn't work there any more, so you're safe. Unless your comment was based on something completely different, and you were just asking a question, in which case my answer is, "No."


Entered By D From hometown
2008-05-10 01:40:16

S & m's....ha ha ha ha!!! you know the saying, i smile so the world will think i am up to something? me....i smile because i have warped images in my head, courtesy of RLW!!! thanks!!


Entered By Karen From Indiana
2008-05-10 02:21:38

For a minute there I thought I was going to have to reread this post to try and figure out what in the world it had to do with paying one's water bill. I'm glad there's a logical explanation for the question... sort of. But part of me is sorry it wasn't the completely random nonsensical comment I first took it to be. Like I just want to post that as a comment on random blogs (or websites, for the overly sensitive who refuse to categorize their site as a blog, you know who you are.)


Entered By D From hometown
2008-05-10 03:35:58

Ray, i'm gonna let you explain this one. i'm not real sure how much private information you want given out to your "fans" he he, although.... re-thinking that statement....not a whole lot about your life is really private on here.


Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-05-11 01:40:12

D: I think I did explain it. Karen: Shut up about blogs.


Entered By Karen From Indiana
2008-05-11 02:13:48

lol


Entered By rik From Unknown
2008-05-13 17:09:10

When I stay away from the strangelands for more than a couple of days and then come back to it, it's postings like this that make me feel ill. Now the comments are doing it too.


Entered By rik From Unknown
2008-05-13 17:11:16

Oh, and anonymous--I really want to hate you for that comment about the donkey and the R's, but it was too clever. Nice one.


Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-05-13 21:18:32

That's why you shouldn't stay away from The Strangelands, rik.


Entered By D From hometown
2008-05-13 22:14:48

thanks Rik. i forgot to sign my name to the comment. i never notice until after i put the comment in. oh, and sorry about getting in on comments about things flying out your butt. it wouldn't be so weird to talk about that on a stranger, but the fact that i know you makes my imagination thoughts even weirder. but, i guess that is what this site is all about. talk of weirdness and nether reigons.


Entered By rik From Unknown
2008-05-14 04:16:14

It feels like Canadian High School has infested The Strangelands, and it makes my skin crawl.


Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-05-14 15:12:35

I think the moral of this comments section is that no one ever truly knows another, no matter what one may think.


Entered By rik From Unknown
2008-05-14 18:43:57

I didn't know The Strangelands had morals.


Entered By Leslie From Texas
2008-05-14 22:09:55

Wow. I, too, miss a few days and look what happens. Although I'll never, EVER forget the ladder incident (I believe Mom's opening line after getting you up on the ladder was, "Ray, do you know what a tampon is?",) I don't think I knew about the doggy-style talk. What a lucky guy you are! Oh, and when Mom called the first time and I explained I was reading your site, she initially said, "Oh should I check it out?" While I WAS tempted, I decided to be good and said, "No, no. If there's something I think you should read, I'll link you to it." What do you think, Ray? Is this one a linker? :)


Entered By Leslie From Texas
2008-05-14 22:12:01

Oh, and you're still the funniest neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie I know! Thanks for the laugh...


Entered By CM From Unknown
2008-05-15 03:23:36

Rik this is a place where everyone knows your name, or your jolly-rancher shooting butt, either way. I love this place, thanks for the laughs ya'll.


Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-05-15 07:23:02

Les: I think this entire month is probably off-limits as far as familial links go. Or maybe this entire year, I don't know. You know what? Just tell her I stopped writing altogether.


Entered By rik From Unknown
2008-05-15 12:37:26

Les: Can you also tell her this was ALL Ray and I had nothing to do with this?


Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-05-15 16:11:05

rik was totally in on it.



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