love slave obtained

Area resident Jacinda Grace Stanton recently purchased a new love slave (to replace the one she’d neglected to death). Though initially excited about being taken from the puppy mill where most of its litter-mates had died, the love slave, whom she named ‘Doggie Dearest,’ is quickly learning that life in its new home is not much better.

Ms. Stanton does not plan to take her newly acquired love slave on four daily walks, feed it properly and at regular intervals, take time to understand its language or moods, respect its right to live a stress-free life, or treat it with the dignity that a sentient being deserves. Instead, she intends to scold it when it voids its bowels inside her home due to lack of access to the out-of-doors, yell at it when it whines about being hungry, complain about having to take it to the vet after letting it suffer a massive skin infection for months, and leave it at home without food for days on end while she engages in multiple new romantic relationships.

Jacinda plans to hug her love slave from time to time, look quizzically at it when it barks, keep it trapped in her bedroom from 9pm until noon of the next day, ignore its needs while manipulating her mobile phone, occasionally lock it outside on a bare concrete pad overnight, and then insist on telling everyone she knows how much she loves animals but never washing out her love slave’s water bowl and only refilling it when it’s completely empty. The nation and state in which Ms. Stanton lives legally defines animals not as living things but as property, however, meaning that she’s not doing anything wrong - technically.

[This is a work of satire. Any reference to a person or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Please treat living things under your control with the utmost respect and dignity.]

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

eighteen beers consumed

Following his long-standing tradition of avoiding feeling feelings and self-medicating using a hard but readily available and socially acceptable drug, local aid recipient Harold K. P. Trask finished his eighteenth beer of the day. “My life is awesome,” he said, ignoring fully the sadness held tightly by a heart broken once in junior high-school, his overstrained liver struggling to deal with the gallon and a half of fermented sugar water he’d just forced down his gullet. He stretched out on the worn cushions of his second-hand couch and patted his protruding belly in apparent satisfaction.

Surveying the frayed remnants of his second failed marriage by glancing briefly at a couple of framed photographs perched on a nearby shelving unit, he tried to decide between between ordering a pizza or frying up the rest of a refrigerated flank-steak that had gone gray a week earlier. “Better safe than sorry,” he said, punching his choices into a pizza ordering application loaded onto his mobile phone.

Standing up a half hour later to grab the slab of cheesy baked dough from the delivery person, he felt terribly dizzy, a state he attributed to moving too quickly caused in reality by severe malnutrition, acute vitamin deficiency, and decades of self-neglect. Craving protein to balance out the avalanche of carbohydrates he’d consumed in the previous period of wakefulness, Harold’s body compelled him to retrieve the flank-steak from the back of the fridge and fry it up with some butter. His second and third chakras suffocating behind overstrained intestines, their information lost in the static of chronic indigestion, he settled back into the couch, and smiled weakly.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

leisurely summer, “satisfying”

Choosing to lounge around in his boxer-shorts instead of going about his wood-chopping, garden-tending, and home-maintenance chores, 29 year-old Maryland native Frederick Rillenhof said just this morning that his summer of abject, sun-soaked leisure was far more satisfying than performing any of the duties he admitted were necessary to keep him alive through the upcoming winter. “I hope to have a job by fall,” the home-owner said while trying to find a way to make his window-mounted air-conditioning unit produce more cool air. ”And I'm going to need one to pay for all this electricity I'm using, and for all the heating oil I'll have to buy in order to keep this damn place warm when it starts to snow.”

Sitting by an open, southward-facing screen door of his four-bedroom home, Frederick, who lives alone, said he enjoyed feeling the cold air stream past him, because it cooled him off a bit before escaping into the blast-furnace heat outside. “I just love that,” he said while poking at a brand-new, touch-screen-equipped tablet computer. “Feeling the breeze that the A-C is making, knowing that I have a fridge full of food just waiting for me to eat. I got a call from my credit card company this morning asking for payment on last month's bill, but what are they going to do, cut me off? I pay my mortgage with that platinum card, bitches.”

While poking around in the tall weeds behind the house (after being shooed outside to pee unless we, “Wanted to go all the way up to the third floor to use that bathroom, since all the other ones are clogged”), this news team discovered a discarded ax and a decrepit bow-saw, both of which were rusting away atop a woodsman's sawhorse. Next to these forgotten tools was a large mound of good lumber, the ends of which were however beginning to show signs of rot. When we asked him about the wood wasting away in the backyard, Mr. Rillenhof declared that he was too busy watching a marathon session of a popular reality-television series that focuses on crab-fishing off the coast of Alaska to get to sawing or splitting anytime soon, and that he would handle it once the weather turned a bit cooler. He declined to comment on his vegetable garden, however, which was in a sorry state, indeed.

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