Mankind's only alternative 9   DEC.   22  
Mankind's only alternative
Welcome
MAIN  RUSSIA  WAR NERD   [SIC!]  BAR-DAK  THE VAULT  ABOUT US  RSS
 
 
EXILE BLOGS

The Fall of The eXile For all those wondering what the "Save The eXile Fundrasier" banner is all about, here it is as simply as it can be phrased: The eXile is shutting down.
June 11, 2008 in eXile Blog

War Nerd: War of the Babies in Taki's Magazine The War Nerd talks about babies, the greatest weapon of the 20th century.
May 28, 2008 in eXile Blog

Kids, Meet Your President A website for Russian kids to learn all about President Medvedev's passion for school, sports and family.
May 22, 2008 in eXile Blog

Cellphone Democracy Cam If this girl was exposed to Jeffersonian democracy...
May 20, 2008 in Face Control

More Classy B&W Dyev Photos Yet another hot Russian babe imitating the Catpower look...
May 20, 2008 in Face Control

Proof That Genetic Memory Is Real! Sure, the Ottomans shut down the Istanbul Slavic slave markets centuries ago...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

Russia's Orthodox Church Youth Outreach Program The priest is going, "Father Sansei is very impressed with grasshopper Sasha’s...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

More Classy B&W Club Photos w/Russian Dyevs We took the Pepsi Challenge here...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

Blogs RSS feed

Letter from America June 24, 2004
 
Ode to the Dolphins
By Mark Ames Browse author Email
 
Page 2 of 3
 
"I vas crying so much yesterday. I don't vant to leave Malibu," Vibe said.

She told me that she's working on a novel, writing every day. "It's about my vild life. It's really about me, you know. Real vild stuff. I vas zat vay until I had my son. Now, I can't do zat no more, you know."

She was wearing a tight white t-shirt which had large wet circles over her breasts. I thought maybe she had been swimming or had fallen forward into the water, but no, she told me, she was jogging and sweating. I didn't know that women sweat out of their tits -- you learn something new every day.

"I am having a little pahty tonight, vis food and stuff. Just bring some vine if you vant to come by. Zere vill be interesting people, you know."

The party started at 6pm, but I didn't come until about ten. When she answered the door, she was stumbling drunk. She introduced me to her boyfriend, a short, swarthy guy with gray-streaked hair, also named "Mark." He eyed me aggressively and walked away.

In the dining room she had two more guests -- one, a nice English woman who lives in our gated community, and the other, a thin, gray-haired hippie who had some product samples and colored brochures on the dining table.

As I sat down with a plate of Danish meatballs and potato salad, the old hippie was in the middle of telling the English woman about dust mite feces. Apparently there are millions of dust mites in every home shitting out hundreds of millions of dust mite turds. The solution, he said, is an air-filter device that he sells. You can't buy it in stores -- only through him. The hippie then leaned over and gave me some color brochures and told me if I wanted to buy one, to call him. "The number is there on the brochure," he said.

While we were talking, a scandal erupted. Mark, Vibe's aggressive little boyfriend, wouldn't sit with us. Then we heard a car peeling out in the street below.

"Zat vas him," Vibe said, looking upset. "I don't know vhy, he is so angry. He is being und asshole."

She grew more upset as the minutes ticked by, repeatedly referring to her boyfriend as "Psycho." That's when it hit me -- gee, I should leave before "Psycho" gets back.

The hippie got the idea too. He up and bolted with his little samples and brochures. The English woman followed. I was right behind them at the front door when Vibe stopped me. She told me how upset she was that her rich friend was making her leave Malibu. Vibe and her son were moving back to their small, rank apartment in Culver City, in the hot, flat Los Angeles sprawl. She sub-leased one of her apartment rooms to a younger woman. "I need ze money," Vibe said. "I'm poor -- I vill have to vork some shit job again." Her car was old and beat up. "But I'll sell my book and make money and zen me and my son vill get out of Culver City!" she said cheerfully. "I believe you have to be optimistic." She told me that she has been working on the book for ten years now. "But it's almost done," she said. Her son appeared, made fun of the fact that she'd never finish her book, then ran away.

"He's a good boy," she said. "His father is in jail, and he doesn't want to write to him."

"Why's he in jail?" I asked her.

"Oh...I don't know," she said, with a pained expression. Obviously she was lying. A really, really bad sign. She'd only lie about why he was in jail if he did something really awful. Putting that together with Psycho...

"Uh, look, I really have to go now," I said.

She was sad. "I choose ze wrong men, alvays. I make bad choices my whole life. Like Psycho. But no more. I change, Mark. Ve meet again tomorrow?"

"Sure thing." Exit, stage left.

As I walked away, I heard rustling in the hedges nearby. A man was hiding there, watching us. I had a bad feeling.


SHARE:  Del.icio.us  Digg  My Web  Facebook  Reddit
Ames
Browse author
Email Mark Ames at editor@exile.ru.
 
 
FROM THE VAULT
Club Review
The Columnist With The Mostest : Another night with the rich and beautiful

Censorship the eXile Way :

EXILE magazine's Person of the Year : When Mini Means Maximum Success
Al-Dilbert
Al-Dilbert :
 

 
 
 
LATEST ARTICLES

Save The eXile: The War Nerd Calls Mayday
Editorial
The future of The eXile is in your hands! We're holding a fundraiser to save the paper, and your soul. Tune in to Gary Brecher's urgent request for reinforcements and donate as much as you can. If you don't, we'll be overrun and wiped off the face of the earth, forever.

Scanning Moscow’s Traffic Cops
Automotive Section
We’re happy to introduce a new column in which we publish Moscow’s raw radio communications, courtesy of a Russian amateur radio enthusiast. This issue, eXile readers are given a peek into the secret conversations of Moscow’s traffic police, the notorious "GAIshniki."

Eleven Years of Threats: The eXile's Incredible Journey
Feature Story By The eXile
Good Night, and Bad Luck: In a nation terrorized by its own government, one newspaper dared to fart in its face. Get out your hankies, cuz we’re taking a look back at the impossible crises we overcame.

Your Letters
[SIC!]
Russia's freedom-loving free market martyr Mikhail Khodorkovsky answers some of this week's letters, and he's got nothing but praise for President Medvedev.

Clubbing Adventures Through Time
Club Review By Dmitriy Babooshka
eXile club reviewer Babooshka takes a trip through time with the ghost of Moscow clubbing past, present and future, and true to form, gets laid in the process.

The Fortnight Spin
Bardak Calendar By Jared Lindquist
Jared comes out with yet another roundup of upcoming bardak sessions.

Your Letters
[SIC!]
Richard Gere tackles this week's letters. Now reformed, he fights for gerbil rights all around the world.

13 Toxic Talents: Hollywood’s Worst Polluters
America By Eileen Jones
Everybody complains about celebrities, but nobody does anything about them. People, it’s time to stop fretting about whether we’re a celebrity-obsessed culture—we are, we have been, we’re going to be—and instead take practical steps to clean up the celebrity-obsessed culture we’ve got...

 
 
 

    MAIN    |    RUSSIA    |    WAR NERD     |    [SIC!]    |    BAR-DAK    |    THE VAULT    |    ABOUT US    |    RSS

© "the eXile". Tel.: +7 (495) 623-3565, fax: +7 (495) 623-5442
E-mail: office@exile.ru