My PC Life  
    Mark Budman

Dear Diary! Johnny Smith called me stupid. Freddie's not stupid, Johnny. Mrs. Gibson said. He just hadn't received tender. Loving care. When he was a little child. It's not the jeans, students. Only conserve-and-tives say. It's jeans. We say. It's the envy Roman.

But I wonder what jeans has to do. With this? Mrs. Gibson's such a good teacher. She lets me sit in the front row. When I bend over to pick up a pencil. I can see her panties. They are pink.

Today Johnny called me fatso. "Don't call Freddie fatso, Johnny," Mrs. Gibson said. "He comes from a Dis Advent Aged family. Reg Ress and Envy Roman. Make him to eat Hi! calorie food." She's so nice! She uses such loooong words! I dropped my pencil three times today. Mrs. Gibson's panties are yellow. My mom says yellow means by-bye. I cried.

Dear Diary! I started working today. In a rest or rant. European Meets. We make kielbasi. It's not Polish sausages. Anymore. But it's Ethnic alley diverse Nurish ment. Or something. I like kielbasi. I ate three links today.

My boss fired me. He said you eat too much kielbasi. Ball-oni! I never ate more than four links a day. A low-err came and said. Let's take them to court. Because you're mentally challenged. They have no right to Diss Criminate against you. I like the long words she uses. She reminds me of Mrs. Gibson. I will bring a pencil to her office tomorrow. I wish her panties are pink.

The judge was very nice to me. He made European Meets pay me and my low-err. Fifty thousand bucks. The boss said I go to bank Rupt now. Does bank Rupt has? Free Chekin? The low-err took twenty thousand.

Dear Diary! I'm going to get married today. Linda sure looks ugly. But she said I'm not ugly! She said I'm Diff err Ently visaged or something. She said don't call me a woman. She said I'm a womon. She said I read about you. In the newspaper. She said I read all about court cases. I like her. Her panties are pink. Like Mrs. Gibson's. When she took them off. She looked like a centerfold. In my bathroom. Only uglier.

Linda taught me to play horsy. She said womons hate Mish Ion are E position! Only oppressed females agree to Mish Ion are E. She said down with the Mish! Horsy was good. Almost like jerking off. Except Linda didn't get off me. For a long time. That hurt. I said Linda! Please get off! She said you whiny! She said tip Eeeckal mail.

Dear Diary! I asked Linda to make me breakfast today. Linda said you're a mail shove in Yeast pig. Make your own breakfast. I'm no shove pig. I promise! I made her breakfast yesterday. It was her turn today. This is not fair.

Linda hung a framed picture of a womon in our bedroom. Who cut off her husband's pepee. With see sores. I sleep on my tummy now.

Dear Diary! Today Linda divorced me. She said you're domestic abuse. And a sexual under Achiever. Is under Achiever? The one who is under? When playing horsy? The judge was a blonde Lady. She said give Linda. Twenty thousand bucks. Because she's an oppressed womon. I cried so much! I couldn't even drop my pencil. Because the judge sat behind a wrong desk. With the front all the way to the floor.

Today a truck ran over my left foot. I cried. The low-err was very nice to me. He ran behind the Ambu lance. All the way to the hospital. By the time I was in bed. He had the contract ready.

Dear Diary! The judge said you get. Fifty thousand dollars. From the truck company. The low-err kissed me. He said I'll get. Only what is right fully mine. And not a penny more. He said you're cute. But I can't get involved with clients. That's funny. Johnny Smith never called me cute. He said I was fatso. I looked in the mirror. I am a cute fatso.

Today Linda called again. She was nice to me. I hung up. I may be a domestic pig. But I ain't stupid! I won't risk my twenty five thousand.

Dear Diary! Mister Potts invited me to a rally today. They want to protect the hooting owl. I like owls. They have big eyes. I used to shoot them. With my BB gun. When I was a kid. Mr. Potts said we need people like you. Honest and down to earth. I said fine. I said I'll do anything for a good cause. I said but my IQ is 80. He said I know that. He said you'll be a governor one day. I said but they invited me to count. Black hell E copters. For America First found Ashion. He said no. Don't work for them. Freddie. They only like the rich. They are conserve and Tives. I got to sell my BB gun now. Guns hurt people and owls.

I'm on senator Kozlovski stuff now. He said I need you. For my foto-oops. He said you have an honest face Freddie. All you need is to smile. And shake hands. I said fine senator. You can count on me. I shook his hand and smiled. He wiped his hand of on his pants. He said just go easy on the onions son.

Dear Diary! I called Johnny Smith today. My secret Ary made the call for me. She wears pink panties and a lace bra. Johnny's an engineer. He works long hours. I was nice to him. I didn't call him stupid. We polite Eetions need people like him. To pay taxes and stuff.

My secretary read me a newspaper. The American People are fed up with Political Correctness. I'm afraid to look at her panties. What if they are yellow?

Mark Budman was born and raised in the former Soviet Union. His fiction and poetry have appeared in the Mississippi Review, Exquisite Corpse, Enterzone, Recursive Angel and many other magazines.


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