She was shitty with me so I asked her what was wrong? She sniffed and said, nothing. Bullshit. It was obvious I had done something to make her mad. That is a woman’s worst feature, the inability to speak her mind. A woman would rather brood. I am pretty sure that she put a love-curse on me. I woke in the middle of the night once to find her shaking a dying chicken over me. It was white and its throat had been slit. She held it by the legs and it bled all over my body. I woke the next morning not knowing if I dreamt it. There was no blood on me. I told myself that I had dreamt it. I got up and had a shower. As I came back into my room I found it; a bloody chicken feather under the bed

She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong so I had to guess. Are you shitty about the bloodstains on the carpet, I asked? No, she said bluntly. I watched her lips purse and her nostrils raise. My feet are swollen and covered in little blood blisters that pop and bleed. I never know it’s happening till I see the blood. My home is utilitarian with a stock room for dressings and continence equipment. There is even a bed for a bird to watch over me. The bird is a raven and likes to eat worms. Sometimes a woman just wants to be talked out of sulking. If you can make them remember why they love you, you can make them forget what they are shitty about. I had a girl who hated me as much as she loved me but you should have seen her when I was fucking her from behind. She would always cuddle me afterwards

Every time I think that I’ve figured them out I will see an inconsistency. God, why do I love them so much? They are crazy wonderful. She keeps telling me that she wants me involved in community activities. Why? I didn’t like nine out of ten people before I was in a wheelchair. Now I am down to fractions of a whole. Preconceptions and misconceptions follow me around the block. I go out whenever I am healthy enough. I know that she thinks that being in the community will help broaden my social circle but I just told you how I feel about people. Just one good woman is all I need. Everything she suggested was a cock-party so I told her I was going home. She said there are lots of support groups for men who have gone through similar experiences. My God, I said, I would rather hang myself. I turned around and left before I told her too much and gave it all away

I went out to the balcony with a cigarette. The old folks across the road are having a party. Well they aren’t, their teenage daughter is. It is normally a house full of pious looking people. Not tonight. There is security on the door and it is blasting House. There are strobe lights and a smoke machine. The little **** girl is in control. I sit on my balcony watching the lights but I have to stop as it’s making me feel like I’m going to have an epileptic fit. Young people keep coming out on to the street and congregating. I know that nobody there has done an E but some are dancing like they have. They are going through the motions. At least they won’t have a comedown but they will never be as high

Bondi beach
Venice beach……………………………………………………….



She’s been marching for Stalin with her shoulders raised but I could tell she was on the cusp of no longer being shitty. I just had to figure it out. I stubbed the smoke out on the jar and went back inside. There are lots of things, I said, that I haven’t done. I only saw Nirvana Live at Reading last year. Oh, she asked as she goosestepped past me. I hadn’t even seen one of Clint Eastwood’s movies and I didn’t know who Doom was. She sat at the other end of the couch. I was probably too busy getting drunk and rooting. I was too busy being cool to know about cool. She got up and left the room so I started shouting to her through the wall. I never saw Erin Brokowich until last night. I saw a short with Julia Roberts’ tits sticking out so I watched it. It was a pretty good movie but her tits were better. My hand was down my pants stroking it when I heard you coming. I took my hand out as you walked in the room… She leaned her head in halfway through the door and asked, what about a writing course? No, I said, talking about writing doesn’t make it any better. The only thing that helps writing is doing it. Talking is for love. The DJ over the road started a new track. I thumped my hand on the table in time


Boom, boom, boom boom boom – boom…
Boom, boom, boom boom boom – boom….




Andrew Stuart Buchanan

4 thoughts on “JUST A BUNCH OF DUDES

    • yeah Ashley, i know. i have had enough relationships to know that. you’ll have to believe me when i say that it is a common characteristic of women in a relationship. silence becomes a weapon for either party but speaking in generalities women use silence more effectively. most men would rather fight rather than try to figure out why a woman isn’t talking. you will just have to believe me when i say it is something that most women share. and anyway, when i write a woman becomes all women, drinking becomes alcoholism and sadness becomes misery. you should know my writing by now, i don’t like having to justify or explain things

      • It seems I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t now speak further. If I say what I want to say you will be annoyed. If I say nothing then I fit your generalsation.
        So that will have to do as my reply.

  1. oh no i don’t mean that. i was just trying to justify what i had written from your comment. it’s just your comment sounded like as if i didn’t know that. i’ve changed it anyway

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