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Hey now – I haven’t introduced you to my family, have I?   How rude of me.   Our cosy household.   The little Jonathon coven.

Exhibit A: Eddie, my perpetually drunken uncle.   He spends most of his time snoring in his bedroom upstairs or snoring in front of the television, or sometimes, just for variety, snoring wherever he happened to pass out.

Exhibit B: His on-off girlfriend, Pam.   Dunno why she bothers really.   She comes around, tidies up a bit, pretends to be maternal to me when she remembers, and is usually out of the house before I’m home at night.

Pam has a daughter – Jenna, Exhibit C.   Jenna’s a lanky kid with lanky hair and a tendency to have rushes of talking where the predominant word is “like”.   The girl can pack that one word into a sentence ‘like’ a fiend: it functions for her as verb, noun, adjective, punctuation mark.   Worst thing is she also ‘likes’ me.   Oh – yay.

You see, in my defence, my parents live up north, but I moved down here to go to school, and Eddie was the obvious relative to scrounge off.   Mom doesn’t know her little brother turned into an obese liquor-soaked sloth, and I haven’t had the heart to tell her.   Dad sends occasional extra money with brief notes and cryptic bits of fatherly advice.   I spend the money and chuck the notes.   Oh, and may it please the court to know, I have an older sister called Amelia who married and has two kids called…

 

Are you actually buying this?   I fucking had you going for a little while, yeah?   Don’t know how it works on the screen, but in person I have about eight lifetimes-worth of practise telling lies.   I’m the king of deceit, man.   Works especially well on sympathetic teachers, jaded welfare workers, concerned counsellors, kids from school and door-to-door Jehovah’s witnesses.   Okay, for me lying is a useful survival tactic too, but hey – I’ve turned it into a fucking art.

So here’s the truth.   Eddie is actually a nifty little recording device on loop, occasional pieces of smelly washing I collect from former meal tickets and scatter about, plus a few empty bottles of bourbon for stage props, but ultimately (here’s the main point) he’s just an alias I use to sign for the things I look too young to own.   His name is an anagram joke – ‘e died, kind of thing.   He’s my ‘adult’ alter-ego, if you will – little Jonathon would certainly shirk all responsibilities and spend all day sleeping and all his nights drinking if he could.   Not bourbon, of course.

Pam is real, though.   And so is her pain-in-the-ass daughter, unfortunately.   ‘Eddie’ rang and hired Pam from an agency.   She comes over a couple of times a week, pseudo-cleans the house, ignores anything strange because she’s too self-involved to care, and believes devoutly in Eddie’s existence (tiptoes around in the mornings so as not to ‘wake’ him).   I made up the “she’s his girlfriend” thing to cement the home life fiction for Kane, who’s the only one around enough who’s likely to see through it.   He just hears that she and my ‘uncle’ fight a lot though (I now have useful little mock-up recordings of that, too – thank you, Ms. D, for your useful tutelage in the otherwise lame multimedia class), so Kane’s never mentioned Eddie to Pam, which works very well all round, really.

I could probably tell Kane I live alone and have invented a guardian to cover for me.   Jury is out on this one.   He’d be cool – he’d probably think it was cool.   And he wouldn’t tell – that friendship loyalty thing again.   Humanity at its most noble, if slightly stupid.

But – I dunno.   I rather like the whole courtroom drama of my fictional home life – wondering who might find out, playing the part, telling awesome lies.   Living on the knife edge, teeth bared, ready to spring.   Being deceitful – it keeps things interesting.   And let me tell you, it’s worth finding the stuff that keeps it interesting when you have all the time I do.

Back to the evidence presented.   Parents – total fabrication.   Shit, man – can you seriously see me with a mom?   Playing backyard sports with dad?   Jolly family outings?!   How fucking hysterical would that be?   Speaking of which – vampire baseball – awesome idea.   It helps you imagine us as all-American, hot-headed, lovable rogues instead of inhuman, cold-blooded, amoral predators, yeah?   Objection – irrelevant.   Sorry to break it to you, but organised sports are just a bit too organised and sportsman-like for us.   We like our games more chaotic, calculated and – carnivorous – than that.

So – to sum up.   ‘Dead’ Eddie – useful imaginary f(r)iend.   Pam – useful real-life house cleaner.   Jenna – lankier than life, alas.   Parents – my personal joke.   And Amelia – yeah.   Well.   She’s something else all together.  

 

Shut up.   I’m not talking about her.

In fact, why the hell am I even writing here anyway?   What do you care?   Fuck off home.   Court’s adjourned.

 

NEXT ENTRY…

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3 Comments

  1. So you’re more the Ullamaliztli sort, perhaps? There’s plenty of chaos in that game. Plus the losing team gets sacrificed, usually in the ‘rip the heart and show to the world’ way.

  2. you’re actually pretty cool..

    but i just have one question.
    how do you pay for the place you live in?
    that is,
    IF you pay for it at all.

    just curious. 🙂

  3. or IF you have a place..
    but you do have a place..
    right?


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