Lacanian Blondeness


Two girls. The background is phased out. One is wearing daisy dukes with what looks like a lizzardine thong slowly emerging from one leg’s opening. Her top is a framed solar formation. She has a brunette carve of bangs that obscures the dimension of one eye, the other cant. The girl opposite is blonde, philosophically so. Her skin looks like the inverse of track marked, the veins glowing beneath in a defiant shine of health.

Blonde: The other night I had a dream about sucking George W. Bush’s cock. Does that make me an evil, or like, bad person?
Brunette: No, I mean, sometimes you can’t help what you’re attracted to, you know?
Blonde: I know.
Brunette: You know?
Blonde: I totally know.
Brunette: Like I took this quiz that was talking about what kind of man you’d be interested in—usually I throw those away or whatever but this time I just took it out of like curiosity—and one of the questions was something about, like, if you’d heard your boyfriend had done something bad, not like terrible, or whatever, but had, like, accidentally ran over a cat, would you, like forgive him?
Blonde: You have to forgive, it’s totally the foundation of all relationships.
Brunette: No, I know, I mean, I understand.
Blonde: Like, one time Damien told me he had fucked some Ruth’s Chris waitress, and I was about to be so pissed, but then I realized it was someone that looked exactly like me, you know? Like, same dimensions, I even think she’d gotten her hair treated at the exact same place, same skin tone, and, y’know, when you think about it, its sort of like he’s with the same girl, y’know? Like, what he was saying was, what’s the exact difference you know? And I couldn’t really tell him he was wrong. It was sort of, like, a compliment, if you think about it.
Brunette: I totally know, I totally understand.
Blonde: Y’know? Like, sometimes you have to forgive.
Brunette: You totally do.
Blonde: You have to accept.
Brunette: I know, cuz like one time Jeremy was asking me about the exact same thing, or talking about how sexy my sister was, how athletic, how, like, y’know, well built and stuff, and I was thinking, like, okay, she’s my same, like, DNA and stuff, whatever is inside her is the same inside of me, so, like, that should be kind of a compliment, right? Like you’ve seen those Maxims in the mall—I never read them but y’know—and its always like twins on the cover, sorta cuz its like, how can you really tell? Or like, once your man has had one its like so easy to just swap other in, right?
Blonde: I totally know what you mean. At ASU we had a thing where we lined up the initial pledges to our sorority, and covered their faces, so like all we could see was their stomachs, and then it was their pledge-leader’s job just to identify the others by like tummies with covered boobs and panties. It took them, like, seriously, five hours. It’s so hard!
Brunette: I know, I totally know. Sometimes with my other sorority sisters it’s like they know exactly what I’m thinking before I think it.
Blonde: It’s like psychic, I know. It doesn’t even have anything to do with signs, or anything….
Brunette: Well with signs, that, y’know, works too. One time I looked really hard at my sign, it was like a crab holding some kind of like orb or whatever with a really nice wreath around it, and then I realized, like, last week someone had left a wreath on my desk at the office for, like, decoration, and that somehow they had like known the astrological sign and had like fulfilled it, y’know?
Blonde: Omg I know, like, I was so pissed at Damien the other day when, y’know, he didn’t pull out whatever like we agreed, for like, always, and was like, why does it matter if what happened right before could’ve just as easily made something happen? Didn’t it already happen then? Or, like, what’s more of the same matter? It’s all just the same. I mean, I think I know what he means, he’s sort of right.
Brunette: Totally right, though you have to watch out for that stuff.
Blonde: I know, I know, my stepmom tells me all the time.
Brunette: It will like totally fuck up your figure.
Blonde: Wait, what will?
Brunette: Getting knocked up, duh.
Blonde: Oh, yeah, I know, I mean, my car barely has enough room for like groceries in the passenger side, I can’t even imagine trying to squeeze in a big hard belly behind my little leather steering wheel.
Brunette: I totally know. I’m waiting for the drug that just like neutralizes the guy for good, or like, all his sperms are like zapped to death. Microwaved.
Blonde: Oh god, but I don’t know if I’d want to be with a guy who was shooting blanks…
Brunette: Yeah, but he would be, like, choosing to shoot blanks…
Blonde: Still, it’s gotta do something to his confidence.
Brunette: Warp it a little, I guess.
Blonde: It’s the worst thing next to a receding hairline. It’s like, hello, I don’t wanna look like I’m dating someone who’s been like cloned, but like cloned the wrong way. Like, all incorrectly, where he falls apart eventually.
Brunette: I know what you mean.
Blonde: I mean, I already had a mannequin, it’s called my seventh grade boyfriend.
Brunette: l-o-l. You are too bad.
Blonde: I had to teach him everything he knows. He kept trying to buy me things, I had to throw a Build-a-Bear out of his car window and just go for it.
Brunette: Some guys can be so dickless.
Blonde: Yeah I know, it’s like, why are you pretending you’ve seen The Notebook more times than me, because I know that’s a technical impossibility.
Brunette: Totally.
Blonde: They need to come from some like world where they only lift weights and drive trucks and stuff.
Brunette: It’s true, it’s totally true.
Blonde: If you want to go to the nail salon, or like, the bookstore, then you’re going to have to cook dinner for me, and get my dry cleaning too. And then after that there’s no way I’m going to get busy with you.
Brunette: Totally.
Blonde: And don’t try to talk to me so much, y’know? It’s like my fuckin mom.
Brunette: I know, I know.
Blonde: Just like, pick me up and take me away.
Brunette: Yeah.
Blonde: Like, abduction, y’know? Like it just ends, put me in your truck and take me away.
Brunette: Done.