| STUFFED MUFLON From the wood-panneled wall of of the cottage in the mountains of Gorenjska looks upon us a nice specimen of stuffed muflon s head. Nostrils, muzzle, snout,shinning black glass eyes, curved twice. I love women. I love all of them. I invented a story which I throw as a bate to women in the pub. »I am a misfortunate person, without a wife, I must take care of everything in the house. Comming home after work, I have to take care of eveything by myself: I cook, I make order, I wash and iron the linen…« Whenever finishing the story, taking my last sip of beer, I say further I need a wife. I am talking across the table to a friend of mine, but always loud enough so the broad in the cottage room can hear. I don t know that ever happened some woman had not answered; I wouldn t wash and cook for you, for the whole of the world, I dont want to. I havent the slitest intention to.« »Who told you I want you to?« I get her back even. »Whoever on earth told you so? I would nt in my dreams allow you to cook and wash and make order for me, not to you. I don t like a woman like you, I don t want such a woman.« When I finally find a woman caught on a most unbelivable lies and most preposterous sweetly words …. I am going places all alone, i say, on mobile phone I am explaning how my ex-wife has robbed me of my house, how he has manipulated my son against me so that he has attacked me violently and beatten me fiercely.. the only thing I must take care of, is, I must leave the woman first after the sweetness of the liason has passed, I must be the first to attack her with all means regardless the scruples. Fuck her. As I say, this is a game, and all the women, worthy of sin, acting on this chessboard, for me…just for me… My wife? I dont ask her a thing. She is-should be contented with the appearance. And all that is left over. |
| NAGAČENI MUFLON Iz leseno opaženega zidu gorenjske gorske koče brezbrižno gleda lep primerek nagačene muflonove glave. Nosnice, smrček, gobec, svetleče črne steklene oči, dvojno zaviti rebrasti rogovi. Ljubim ženske. Jaz ljubim vse ženske. Izmislil sem si zgodbo, ki jo mečem kot trnek babam v gostilni: »Jaz, revež, zdaj ko sem brez žene, moram sam skrbet za vse. Po službi, ko pridem domov, kuham, pospravljam, perem, likam…« Vedno, ko končam ob predzadnjem požirku piva, dodam, da rabim ženo. Govorim sicer znancu čez mizo, a vedno dovolj glasno, da slišijo tudi tipinje v gostinski sobi. Ne vem, če se je kdaj zgodilo, da se ni katera oglasila: »Jaz ti že ne bom likala pa prala, mi niti na misel ne pride,saj nisem tvoja služkinja« »Kdo pa ti je rekel, da te maram, » jo zabijem. » Kdo pa ti je rekel to? Tebi že ne bi dovolil, da mi kuhaš, pereš in likaš. Tebi že ne. Mi še na misel ne pride, take ne maram!« Ko kakšno najdem na najbolj prozorno laž in najbolj bahaško sladke besede…Kako sam hodim po svetu, po mobiju razlagam, kako mi je žena pobrala hišo, kako je našuntala sina, da me je pretepel… moram paziti samo na to, da bom jaz tisti, ki jo bom zajebal prvi in tudi zadnji. Kajti, to je igra, in vse ženske, vredne greha, nastopajo na tej šahovnici, samo zame… Žena? Sploh je ne vprašam. Ona je - mora biti - zadovoljna z videzom. In vsem ostalim. |