Shawrmy...

The title's never been written before, I'm pretty sure ; but it's been a harem word for years. Harems and... ahem, oral culture, you know ?ⁱ

The Shawrmy is named for Shawn, this guy we knew here. Shawn was maybe sixty or so, vaguely euro-jewish (we never got into deep detail on the matter, gringo's enough over here), and trying to maintain a "sporting" style.ⁱⁱ He had the right carⁱⁱⁱ, the right shirts, the right hairdo, the right shades, you get the picture. Oh, and of course the right girlfriend -- Dyna.

Dyna was a local whore (with a kid in tow, of course), doing a very decent job of the job, wearing the right tank tops and stretch pants and scrunchies and whatever the fuck else the "sportive" lyfestyle requires of the Barbie doll associated. Life in plastic, it's fantastic, come on Barbie, let's go party!

Our acquaintance proceeded quaintly enough, something along the lines of
"And this is my girlfriend, Dyna."
"Oh, hey... are those fake ?"
"Yeah..."
"Hannah's going to get a pair, do you mind if she gives them a feel ?"
"Go ahead", and she lifts her top to her chin, while her gringo bf drops his chin past his belt. They fucked almost well that evening, I'm pretty sure. Anyway, Hannah feels her up, she turns to me, I feel her up too, Nicole's over there babytalking a babbling boyfriend lest he has a calcium drop and falls over, back sorta turned to us, blocking him away. Skills, you know ?

Anyway, we shared the occasional grill party, he was always fascinated but also a little anxious of the whips and the trims and obviously the relationship, and the relationship (srsly, his whore he calls a girlfriend, my girlfriend I call a whore, what the fuck dyslexia is this ?!), and... well, everything, really. The one time Chimichurri^iv managed to trick the quarterback holding him back and jumped straight into the pool, elegantly going for some meter-deep swim-shenanigans with all the explicit joy and implicit skill of a little duckling Shawn was in the pool and nearly lost his shit, started socialmedia-ing the duck, video and live commentary like it was aliens in concerto or something.

His conversation was maybe somewhat limited, but he was definitely what you'd call a stand-up guy^v. In any case he was a guy who did his fucking best, as well as he could, as he understood it. Sadly... well, a year or so before we left for Europe he spent six months or so in Israel, curing a chronic heart condition. It had been giving him assorted trouble for years by that point, and well... But he was back, after half year, half his original weight (he never had been very heavy, now he was lighter than a waif), and... well, you know. Now that we're back, I notice he is gone. This time permanently, his place has been let up, and there's no forwarding address.

Dead or alive, Shawn's not likely doing all that well right now, his best days squarely behind him. If he's sitting somewhere in dreary institutional interiors, thinking, vaguely and not awaredly but nevertheless thinking of this great blue sky and the kiskadee in it, of fake tits and gecko cackles, of days in the sun and come on, Barbie... what can I say, Shawn... they're also thinking of you.

The Shawrmy had been a word long before this, however. There's lots and lots of Shawns about, here especially, doing their best, trying as best they can, their "girlfriends" turning to me to feel their tits, my whores to them incomprehensible as a superlative of impenetrable... what can you do.

Life is rarely what you set out to mean for it to be.

PS.

Trilema's got some connectivity issues, I am aware. It's not the server, god knows wtf, some router upstream's choking by all appearances, it's got the not-flu or whatever the fuck you lot've been doing not washing your hands in alcohol to fight a purely airborne disease, cuz you're not mindful and shit like that.

Anyways -- don't panic, it'll be fine.

1. Speaking of which, the Round and Resounding romanian word for cunt is pizda. Ain't that a great word ?

   The first time I wrote it, pen on paper, I still remember, I was twenty-two years old. I had never written it before. Never. Not ever.

   No specific reason, either -- I had by that time fucked well the fuck more whores (teenaged or otherwise, streetworking or pretentious, earnest or artistic, you name it) than the most dedicated punter could possibly ever afford (the nature of my... profession occupation at the time making it not merely very easy but rather outright required) ; I certainly had known what it looks like and (at least superficially) how it works for nigh-on two decades. I most definitely uttered the word, you can't really survive in Romania without a weekly budget for pizda utterances well in the thousands of items, I suspect they revoke your papers and ship you off to Boston or something if you fail to maintain a minimal flux o' pizda flowing out your lips. Yes, yes, ok, I did go to Boston, but on my own power, okay ? Technically the airplane's, but I bought the tickets, nearly closed the local banks down getting my cash wad together, I... keks. Point remains - okay ?

   So how is it possible that the same guy who, aged say seventeen, conducts phone conversations in the terms & terminology of "tu pizda, ia-o pe soru-ta si hai la bajeram sa ne sugeti pula" nevertheless did not write it down ? Not that year, not the next year, not the year coming after that ? I couldn't fucking tell you ; I don't well know. How old were you when you first said cunt ? And when you first wrote it down ?

   Oral culture, you know ? It's a weird, and by same measure a fascinating thing. What's needed to write down something you know, what's all this jazz with "explicit" vs "implicit" knowledge, and why the fuck do you think programming your documents oops I mean, documenting your programs is any different ? Check out the sort of error dyslexia never makes, now why is it quite so improbable that those particular two terms ever got switched around ?

   There's a great loss in this, too -- because you die. Soon enough, you die. [↩]

2. You know what I'm talking about, because yesterday walking down the street I saw a poster and I was like "What the fuck, is that Bruce Willis ?!" "No", came, solicitously, the answer. "It's Vin Diesel". "Why the fuck is he trying to be Bruce Willis ?!" "Because Bruce Willis is like seventy years old", the dutiful reponse landed just as we were passing a different poster advertising... A GUNS & ROSES CONCERT!!! Mother of fucking god, it's been FIFTY YEARS, lay off, give it a break. What the fuck are y'all, animated Mme Tussauds' showpieces ?! Is this some kind of aspiration now, to be a mummy ? [↩]
3. None of which lasted very long, he kept bumping into things while texting.

   Da fuck sense does this make, you tell me -- so you can afford the car and the whore, but you drive the car yourself and call the whore "girlfriend" ? Wtf, call her "driver", sit in the back text all you want, how hard is it ?!

   Hannah even has a driver's cap! [↩]

4. Hey, remember the duckling with a sunshine personality ? [↩]
5. Although from what I hear the current fashion's to call these "creeps", for some reason. [↩]