dungeon butter

Everybody into the ShameShower — Now! Move it / move it / move it!


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If you don’t get that big-toe callus taken care of in the next half hour I’m going to take care of it for you. [Latches and unlatches the Swiss Army Knife’s case.]

* * *

I don’t care if I have a puppy, or a perfect one-man shack in the greatest city on Earth. If I am fired, or if I quit, I’m moving to a pais hispanohablante. I will send the women I love prolix letters that remind them that they are loved. As soon as there’s a chance they’ve forgotten, another letter will appear in the mail. This applies to both romantickly and non-romantickly loved ones.

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[Speaking to adorable puppy.] What is this cowering? Stop your shivering and peeing. You are loved. This is a safe space. Have some more chicken. [Tears a strip off the half-chicken on the counter and feeds it to the dog.] Though I be vegan, and obese, I still buy Safeway chicken for you every week. [With puppy-licked fingers, he tears another piece off for himself.] Let’s go into the rain, so you can shit. [Walks into bathroom and stands shirtless before the mirror for forty-five minutes.]

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[Speaking to puffy, bisexual face in mirror] If I don’t shave you, darling, who will? Hmm? Hush now, and I’ll tuck you into bed in just a moment. Would you like more chocomints? [Gorges on After Eight mints and beer for an hour until he passes out]