Crooked man....swear warning

[Gbn]

...as above, strong language warning...best heard in your head in james galdofini's tony soprano voice....gbn

Once I knew a man so fuckin crooked he had to screw his pants on in the morning. Every day he would get up and screw his pants on, and every evening before he went to bed, he would have to screw them off again. He was a crooked sonofabitch. Now obviously, he didn’t actually screw them off and on, that’s a figure of speech. Nobody is that crooked they would actually have to screw their fuckin pants on and off...’cept for this crooked fucker. Every day and every night, like crooked fuckin clockwork.

Thing was, this crooked motherfucker knew just how crooked he was. He knew he was the most crooked motherfucker who ever walked the earth. And if he ever forgot, there was his fuckin pants to remind him. Every day and every night. Crooked fucker. Every day when he went out of his front door he thought that everybody else could see his crookedness. So this sneaky fucker never did a crooked fuckin thing. He helped people, looked out for the weak, looked after the needy. Every fuckin day. For all his crooked fuckin life. Sneaky crooked sonofabitch. He fooled them all. But every minute of every day he was scared, scared everyone would finally see through him, scared they would see him for the crooked, mean motherfucker he really was.

When he went into his house and locked his door, his crooked thoughts tortured him. He knew he was the crookedest man that ever walked the earth. Jeez, if that got out...and every night and every day there was his fuckin pants to remind him what a nasty, worthless, truly crooked man he was. This crooked fucker lived his life like this, keepin his crookedness in, disguising it with good deeds and selfless acts, and torturing himself with his own fuckin crookedness every fuckin day. He couldn’t believe nobody could see his crookedness. Sometimes I would pass him in the street and boy, he would fuckin panic. Because he could see that i could see just how crooked he was. His eyes used to plead with me. I know you know what a crooked motherfucker I am, but these people think I’m a good man. He knew that I knew he had to screw his fuckin pants on and off. And this crooked fucker didn’t want anyone else to know. That’s how crooked he fuckin was.

One day, this crooked motherfucker dropped down dead. His crooked fuckin house was emptied of crooked thoughts and they threw his crooked fuckin pants in the trash with all his other crooked belongings. The whole fuckin town turned out for his funeral. People fuckin wept. Can you believe that, they fuckin wept for the crooked sonofabitch. And his grave don’t say here lies the crookedest man who walked the earth, it don’t even have the word crooked on the gravestone. These fuckers put on words like great, loved, respected, even fuckin missed. They called him a great fuckin philanthropist. So even in death he was a crooked fuckin man. People tend his grave, fresh flowers every day. And they celebrate the day he was born. It’s a public fuckin holiday. But he went to his grave knowing that he was the crookedest fuckin man that ever walked on two legs, the crookedest man to feel God’s sun on his back. And he went to his grave knowing that nobody but him, and me, ever fuckin knew. Crooked motherfucker had the last laugh. Laughing at the good people looking up to him. He was a truly, twisted, crooked man.

[David]

A repetition warning might have been more helpful, G. And it's not fuckin I object to in that sense - that does indeed have a good Tony Soprano vibe to it - but crooked. Way too much repetition.

But I quite like the story in itself.

Cheers

David

[Gbn]

Thanks...the repetition was actually intentional, but point taken..had hoped to recreate the repetition of life itself and our own daily battles against it..and our inner urges/demons...also to show the alarming frequency with which we judge, and are judged by, others. I guess if I have to explain i wasn't clear in the piece!