GRAVE PISSING

I thought Pud would be happy to hear that Alfredo Stroessner had died. The tin horn dictator of Paraguay, host to Nazi fugitives including Martin Bormann and Josep Mengele, oppressor of his people, crook, murderer, and, of course, ally of the United States, died last month. Pravda provides a nice little obit.

Instead of elating, the news annoyed my friend Pudinhand Wilson. “Another goddamn grave to piss on,” he said.

Turns out Pud has a list of graves that he feels obligated to desecrate. “There’s no way these fuckers deserve to rest in peace!”

Pud feels bad—because he’s so lazy, he hasn’t gotten around to pissing on any graves yet—time’s running out and the list of sites requiring Pud’s attention grows exponentially, like the world’s population.

“You know, Pud,” I said, “there must be plenty of people just like you, who, for one reason or another can’t make it to Paraguay to desecrate Stroessner’s grave. The next best thing would be to see video of someone else doing it. That way they could rest assured that his grave actually had been desecrated. Here’s the ideal business for you—travel, pee, travel, pee, etc. I don’t know how you’d market it… I’m thinking something like Girls Gone Wild.”

“You’re a genius!” Pud said as he jumped to his feet to do his “dance of cogitation.”

“This is sensational! My mission in life has been revealed. I gotta renew my passport, cash in some CD’s, get a video camera, and I’m off.”

“Pud,” I said, “it was a joke.”

“One man’s joke is another man’s toke,” Pud said dismissively.

“What about karma?”

“You mean that hippie chick in high school, Karma McIntyre? We’re the only two guys in our graduating class who never fucked her. Man, talk about free love!”

“No, asshole,” I said, “I mean the future of your soul.

“If you weren’t such a procrastinating piece of shit you already would have done it. You don’t have to go to Paraguay to find a grave worth pissing on. There’s probably a dozen fascists buried within an hour’s drive from here.”

“Yeah, fuck you.” Pud said, “I should have let you die.” When Pud says this, it means he wants to move on to some other line of thought, thank God.

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