Chapter 15 -
Lecture on Things to Think about During the Second Half
Do any of you people reading this know that dude who wrote the song about the Tambourine Man? You know that fellow? Well, tell him he needs to give me a call. He'll have to get the number from my publisher, and he doesn't normally give out such things unless he thinks he can probably help me get laid, but for THAT dude, he'll fork it over. He and I need to rap before ONE of us finally shuffles off this mortal coil. And tell him it's not dark yet, but it's gettin' there. I'd like to do the final chapter of this memoir live from my cabin while he sings to me and pours my drinks, if you want to know the truth.
Now, I'd like to answer some questions. I got a note from a gentleman in Nashville who observed that parts of this memoir read like J.D. Salinger. Maybe like that paragraph right up there, actually. Well, this IS J.D. Salinger, asswipe! I just got tired of writing under the name Thomas Pynchon and thought I'd use a different alias, just because I didn't want my publisher to have to field calls from people asking if I had liked getting sucked by Joyce Maynard. Well, of COURSE I liked it, fool! I busted a nut in her mouth more times than McGowin's taught Catcher. Oh yeah, I'd like to thank that man for all the royalties he's sent my way, by the way.
And you thought I was a recluse? HELL no! I've been whooping it up for YEARS! I sit here on my grape iMac in Cornish, New Hampshire, and write this shit and e-mail it to that publisher dude, the one that lives in Oakland. Didn't know I had a computer, did you? Well, neither did Kurt Vonnegut. Until I told him. Then he knew it. But actually, I was lying when I told him that, because I DIDN'T have a computer and didn't get around to it for the next three days. I just wanted something to lie about. I'm a terrible liar.
So I was fucking this girl from India. She was from India in the way most women who are from India are. Anyway, I was fucking her and she was fucking me. She was about the most orgasmic woman I have EVER fucked, probably even more so than Mary or Erin or my ex-wife, the one who lives up here near where I do being a loud alcoholic and fucking people and telling them she wants to be an Artist and that she met Kurt Vonnegut. Well, I TOO have met Kurt Vonnegut, In fact, Kurt Vonnegut is a very big fan of The Benny Poda Years. In fact, I AM Kurt Vonnegut. See, that's the big joke, hey? Couldn't you recognize it from the style? Well, so this Indian woman, she was really fucking orgasmic. All women from India are very orgasmic. At least you know that, deep down that's what the fuck you think, anyways.
And the title: Ok, here's The Benny Poda Years contest: get online and start trying to figure it out, and if you find his ass, drop me a line by March 1 and you get an autographed print copy of The Benny Poda Years and a copy of McGowin's CD.
Have a good Break!
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