To: claudeberube@freepress.com From: vincent@smartcom.lu
April 4rd, 2011.
There’ll be hot coffee and a really enthusiastic bed when you come home. Just thought it needed saying.
As for news about Abidjan, I’ve stopped following along. I know what comes next – it’s always the same, history’s seen it happen so many times it doesn’t hold much excitement anymore. In short: the Africans have all lost the game to some degree because greed writes the agenda every time. Thank God we’re all rich here in Europe, right?
I went out clubbing yesterday. Felt lonely without you, it’s a big house with no one around but a couple of fat cats. It was a very boring experience, though. Imagine my shock when I realised that pretty much no one gives a fuck about some old, wrinkly queer who orders bourbon on the rocks. Had to leave town with only two, measly offers of free sex and a phone number someone stuffed in my pocket when I wasn’t looking. So I can’t even brag about turning groups and flocks of hungry gay men away – it just didn’t happen.
You know I could spin that shit and make it work. I can’t imagine it would take much to fabricate a story to go with the empty accusations, either. Surely, Le Monde has made similar transgressions before; underestimated a crisis situation for lack or want of sufficient research. Besides, I bet they’re homophobic, too. They probably wanted you to get killed, Claude. I could go on. It would be thin ice, sure, but people will think themselves fucking divine if they’re allowed to fantasize.
no subject
From: vincent@smartcom.lu
April 4rd, 2011.
There’ll be hot coffee and a really enthusiastic bed when you come home. Just thought it needed saying.
As for news about Abidjan, I’ve stopped following along. I know what comes next – it’s always the same, history’s seen it happen so many times it doesn’t hold much excitement anymore. In short: the Africans have all lost the game to some degree because greed writes the agenda every time. Thank God we’re all rich here in Europe, right?
I went out clubbing yesterday. Felt lonely without you, it’s a big house with no one around but a couple of fat cats. It was a very boring experience, though. Imagine my shock when I realised that pretty much no one gives a fuck about some old, wrinkly queer who orders bourbon on the rocks. Had to leave town with only two, measly offers of free sex and a phone number someone stuffed in my pocket when I wasn’t looking. So I can’t even brag about turning groups and flocks of hungry gay men away – it just didn’t happen.
You know I could spin that shit and make it work. I can’t imagine it would take much to fabricate a story to go with the empty accusations, either. Surely, Le Monde has made similar transgressions before; underestimated a crisis situation for lack or want of sufficient research. Besides, I bet they’re homophobic, too. They probably wanted you to get killed, Claude. I could go on. It would be thin ice, sure, but people will think themselves fucking divine if they’re allowed to fantasize.
And fine, I won't.
- Vincent.