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"Viking Funeral" - A Reading about My Eulogy



Nicoletta A quoi sert de vivre libre - Vidéo Dailymotion


A quoi sert de vivre libre
Quand on vit
Sans amour

What purpose is there to live free when one lives without love?



If writers stopped writing about what happened to them, then there would be a lot of empty pages. - Elaine Liner


My ex-boyfriend twittercided yesterday. Meaning he eliminated his twitter account. I felt sad and guilty for I knew how much he loved his twitter; how it consumed him for hours every day. It shook me to the roots that he killed the very thing he loved because of me, my blog and my tweets where I exposed him.

From the onset there's no disguising the fact that I'm a big-mouthed, opinionated broad who stands up and speaks my mind. Recently, I stood up in Town Hall and socially ostracized myself by outting a publicly elected official who extorted money from me. Let me clarify that: I put my frigging life at RISK with that public disclosure. The ex-boyfriend was with me when elected Town officials shook my hand, praising my courage, something no one else had with that common knowledge.

This is a tiny example of what I did and continue to do. It's no secret I stand up for myself. That I will NOT abide things that don't sit well with me. Yet, I also go public with what I love! I write both the good AND the bad! So, why should he NOT expect me to react the way I did when the dust settled in our relationship? 

I'm hurt, dammit. I'm eviscerated. In all candor, I sincerely doubt whether I can bounce back as this whole screwy love has screwed me up big time. And apologize to you, dear Reader, for the spate of blog posts surrounding this relationship, the break-up and how I'm trying to deal. I'm not dealing well at all.

It makes sense that I refer to the relationship in my reading last week. I participate with a group of story-tellers where we write 600 words of a mini-novel within a topic and perform for free to the community. The chosen topic this time was our own eulogy, giving us poetic license with our lives as a third party. 

Without any more preamble, I present:



"Viking Funeral"
by Maura Stone



Maura Stone is, to quote numerous reviews, "a brilliant satirist, a voice of this generation," due, in part, to her novels, mainly, "Five-Star Fleecing," "Don't Bank on It," and "Tales of Paris when Men Peed on the Streets." However, her vlog and blog, Kiss-Keepitsimpleschmuck, brought her to global prominence, kicking off a tv series.

Prior to this, she wasted thirty years as a banker, an executive and a consultant who spawned a billion dollar industry in credit risk through her own company which she managed for ten years.

Despite her background, the recurrent theme in the majority of her written works focused on her propensity towards getting involved with inappropriate men.

She lamented to anyone who'd listen, "Why am I cursed with meeting the wrong men? It's as if the Universe wants me to spend my life alone."

I responded countless times, "Perhaps to continue creating brilliant works without the distraction of a normal life."

On a personal level, I knew her crisp satire and wit came from a deep well of unhappiness and emotional duress. She said, "I rather be waterboarded for a year than go through another relationship," typically prior to embarking upon a new one.

In 2014, she wrote Strange Romance, the movie based upon the only man with whom she had a relationship in her age range. He was a geeky, boring middle-aged guy with a dead-end job he could barely keep, a parrot, an ex-wife and no kids. Maura thought him ideal. She said to me, "No drama."

Trust me, he was drama galore.

[Please roll the film clip for Strange Romance.]

In bed, the actor representing the geek bragged, "My friend and his wife call me, 'Porno.'"

The actress representing Maura said, "What?"

"I did ten porn films in BDSM." To clarify, he added, "Bondage, domination, sadism and masochism. Don't worry, it was years ago and they're on VCR and no longer in distribution." He looked into her eyes. "Please do me a favor and stop writing about me in your blog: I'm a private man."

She asked in confusion, "How private can you be? Your genitals were on film. Lord knows what you really did on screen."

[Next film clip please.]

The actor went down on one knee in front of the actress. "I want to go on your vlog wearing make-up and a dress."

The actress blinked a few times. "I thought you were going to propose. What's with the sudden interest in cross dressing?"

He responded, "I think it's funny."

[End of clip, thanks.]

Maura never trusted any man again because she saw freaks and geeks under the guise of boring and milquetoast.

Until she met Dave. Dave embodied the qualities she desired: kind, gentle, nice, handsome, intelligent, worldly, in good shape, a terrific lover, financially secure, mentally stable and happy. Most importantly, Dave adored her, in love with her and wanted a life with her. He was proud to have her in his life and let the world know.

This was indeed a new sensation for Maura, never having experienced romantic love, only pale facsimiles from deranged and damaged men. Similar to Marilyn Monroe, she loved more than she was loved.

In two months, Dave got down to one knee. It was Maura's first and only marriage proposal. Three months later, they stood at the altar in Valley Beth Shalom Synagogue in Los Angeles where at 9:00 am, January 6, 2017, Maura dropped dead at 61 years old.

As per her request, please join us now for the Viking Funeral to take place at her lakefront property. Incendiary devices welcome.



THE END





I hope he set up another account in another name and is enjoying himself once again. 


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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I thought you were brilliant at the reading yesterday. Good improvising!