Regan Wolfrom - Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men

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Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Nine Women. Nine Stories. And nothing ordinary about them. From the slightly askew mind of Regan Wolfrom comes this collection of hilariously dark tales of love, death, and
timing.
Heather Smythe Pretty. Shy. About as lapsed as a Catholic can get.
Heather’s trapped in the a cult of killer succubi with a taste for East Hollywood douches.
(“High Times at the Sixth Annual Succubus Sisters Garage and Bake Sale”)
Amanda Hackensack Somewhat tall. Can’t dunk. Never knew her father.
Amanda wakes up in a world of voodoo and zombies that she knows shouldn’t exist.
(“The Zombification of Amanda Hackensack”)
Marguerite Frunkel Lonely. Awkward. Painfully ginger.
Marguerite finds two strange little gnomes who show her just what she’s been missing.
(“Gnome on Girl on Gnome: A Love Story”)
Laura Daniels Political outsider. Maverick. Avowed crazy cat lady.
Laura learns the sinister truth behind her unexpected electoral success.
(“The Siamese Candidate”)
Stephanie Munro Hard working. Hard drinking. Hard to please.
Stephanie comes to regret taking a trip on the edge of the world with people she knows she shouldn’t trust.
(“The Raven’s Head Dagger and the Custom of the Seas”)
Marie-Claire Grimson Pink hair. Pretty smile. Likes to eat people.
Marie-Claire may soon discover that meat is murder no matter how you slice it.
(“Vegans Are F**king Delicious”)
Maddy McKay A little lonely. A little self-conscious. Starving to death.
Maddy’s trying to slim down to starving model size, but her little housemates don’t seem all that supportive.
(“Maddy McKay and the Elves in Her House”)
Vanessa Dervoe Softball legend. Proud Yooper. Breathes underwater.
Vanessa’s strange gift has gotten her nowhere in life, stuck in a sad amusement park and surrounded by death.
(“The Ocean Goddess and The Home Run Queen”)
Kara Hermin Mysterious. Troubled. Loads of fun at parties.
Kara’s lived a long and dangerous life, and may be forced to live it all over again.
(“Born Again at Granny’s Cave”)
I’ve always been drawn to stories about women who are
, like not necessarily because of their skill with a broadaxe or their ability to toss on their nunsuit and fly over the streets of Lubbock, Texas.
These stories are about women who are thrown into situations that are completely what the f**k, and about how they work to take control of their destinies.
Oh, and
. And
, of course. And something about
. I did mention
, right?
Regan Wolfrom
Harry the Adventurous Hamster After a break from writing to attend puberty, and to eventually sell six packs of Molson Canadian to his misnamed crush, Moosehead Girl, Regan returned to the craft with reckless abandon and a gallon jug of iced tea with just a smattering of extremely cheap rum.
Regan is now the author of the
series (with only one mention — so far — of zombie erections) and the slightly less controversial
series (which, while appropriate for a YA audience, is still more likely to have
zombie erections at some point). Regan hopes to one day write a novel set on Mars while sitting in his boxer shorts on the actual Red Planet, and everything that comes before that is really just his way of saving up for the one-way trip.
Though Regan has been shafted by residency requirements in his pursuit of the MacArthur genius grant, his current fiction is considered to be of high caliber, reflecting a marked improvement in style and grammar from the aforementioned thing with the hamster. It also has far fewer graphic scenes of pound puppy plushes having sex in the back of a shoebox with paper wheels.
What does Regan have to say about Regan? For a more in-depth tour of Regan’s unresolved childhood issues, be sure to read one of his stories. From the Author
About the Author “I recently passed up the chance to hassle Samuel L. Jackson.” “I’ve always wanted to change my name to something boring, like Hugh Howey.” “I know how to cook six things. None of them are oatmeal.” “I write stories that are weird, a little dark, and definitely inappropriate for my children. It could be tough to keep that going when they get to be as old and weird as I am today.” “Oh… and my dog is in love with me… like… in a disturbing way.”

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“You smoked one already?”

“It’s wearing off.”

“You can’t keep doing this,” I said. “Please…” I lowered myself beside her on the couch as best I could and wrapped my arms around her. Her whole body was shivering and I could feel her heart pounding. I was overwhelmed and I began to cry.

“Don’t,” she said. She planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

“I’m sorry… I’m just worried about you.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, too.” She started to climb off the couch so I got out of her way.

She stood up in front of me and took off her shirt.

“This is me,” she said as she pulled down her pants. “This is your wife. I’ve been alive longer than anyone else, but I still suck at it.”

We laid in bed together; she wanted more, but it didn’t feel right. We held each other and eventually she came down enough to fall asleep. I watched her for over an hour as she slept.

I didn’t regret marrying her. Or falling in love with her. I didn’t regret a thing.

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“I want to die,” Kara said.

I was just about to leave for work when she said it, and she sounded for a moment like a teenager who’d just been grounded. But that wasn’t Kara; Kara meant it.

“You want to start over again?” I asked.

“No… I want to stop starting over. I want to be dead. I want you to rip out my heart and feed it to a goddamned grizzly bear. I want to get this over with.”

“Would that even work? The bear, I mean?”

She shrugged. “I doubt it. My heart would probably just start burning up somewhere inside its large intestine… you know… kind of like Mexican food.” She smiled at her own joke. “I think the only way to stop me from being born again would be to flash freeze me like a salmon.”

And that’s when it came to me.

It felt strange; I wanted to help her with what she wanted more than anything but I didn’t want to lose her.

“Would you really do it?” I asked. “If you found a way to die, would you?”

“I’ve had plenty of life,” she said quietly. “I’m ready for something else.”

I gave her a kiss on her forehead. And then I gave Callum a call, wondering just how far our friendship could stretch.

картинка 105

Callum didn’t believe me at first when I told him about Kara, and I think that somehow made me feel a little better. It’s not like I had any proof.

We were walking together along the trail by the marina, watching people jogging and rollerblading and getting on with their lives. I’d told him the story; I’d told him everything, and then we just continued on in silence for almost a half hour.

That’s how long it took for him to come around.

“Would you really let her go?” he asked me. “I mean, if somehow we actually had the balls to do this.”

“It’s what she wants. I think that’s worth more than anything else.”

“There are other things to try… counselling or something.”

“She doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want anything else.”

Callum gave me a quick pat on the shoulder. “I’ll only do it if it’s really what you want.”

I nodded. “It’s what I want.”

We turned around a few minutes later, walking back without much talking. I didn’t really want to keep on about it.

As for what I wanted for Kara, I’m sure Callum knew I was lying. But he didn’t call me on it.

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Kara and I met Callum a few nights later, after his staff had gone home. He didn’t look at all happy to see us; I knew I was asking a lot.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked him.

“I have to be,” he said. “You need my help so here we are.” He looked over to Kara and gave her a nervous smile. “It’s non-toxic. That way you’ll know you’re not poisoning the earth.”

Kara didn’t say a word or even nod. She just stared at him blankly.

“That’s good,” I said, trying to smile. I wrapped my arm around my beautiful wife and gave her a squeeze. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked her.

She nodded.

I looked over to Callum. “So it needs to happen… before…”

“I know,” Callum said. “I have ether for that.”

I tensed up a little. “Will it hurt?”

Kara pulled at my hand. I looked over to see her slowly shaking her head at me. I wanted to think she was telling me to forget the whole thing, to take her home and just hold her. But all she really wanted was for me to shut up.

He led us through a door into a tiled room. On one wall was a shower and a shelf with some glass and plastic bottles. On the other side was a long metal table, and next to that a red couch; both looked out of place.

“This is usually where I wash up,” Callum said. “We’ll do it in here if that’s okay. I felt it was nicer than…”

“It’s very nice,” Kara said. “Thank you.” She sat down on the couch and took off her shoes.

“Do you guys need a couple minutes?” Callum asked.

Kara shook her head no.

I kept my mouth shut.

Callum put on his white latex gloves. He took a clear plastic bottle from the shelf and brought it over to Kara along with a large white cloth.

She lowered herself down until she was fully reclined, her head resting on a small pillow.

Callum carefully poured the ether into a glass measuring cup that looked like it belonged in a kitchen. He then dropped the cloth into the cup to soak.

“Don’t breathe any in, Lanny,” he said.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I’m less sensitive to it after all these years. I’ve been on a lot of dates.” He seemed to catch his bad timing. “Sorry…”

“Thank you for doing this, Callum,” Kara said. “I really appreciate it.”

Callum nodded. He knelt down beside the couch and held the cloth up to her face. “Breathe deeply,” he said.

I held her hand as she took it in, three deep breaths before she closed her eyes.

Callum held the cloth to her face a little longer before pulling it away.

“You’re doing okay?” he asked me.

“I’m fine.”

“Good… help me get her onto the table.”

I helped him move Kara, and I helped him with the chemicals, both of us in gowns and gloves.

Callum explained to me that everything he’d use was biodegradable, even the flame retardant he’d gotten from his cousin in Coquitlam. He explained that it wouldn’t be like regular embalming, that Kara would be more like a medical cadaver; he wouldn’t have enough time to drain her blood and there was really no need to make it look good. Her body should be preserved for decades or longer, her heart kept cold and still.

My heart was already starting to eat itself.

I asked him how he knew it would work and he told me there was no way of knowing; I felt silly for having asked. There was no way to know for sure. I tried not to imagine Kara waking up again, staring at me, angry that the hope I’d given her had turned out to be useless.

Once Callum made the injection I had to leave the room; I didn’t want to see it. I sat in the front room of the mortuary on a matching red couch.

I wanted her body to catch fire on that table; maybe then I’d have her for good.

Callum found me later; he said it had been several hours, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Is she still in there?” I asked. “Is she… gone?”

Callum sighed. “I don’t know… I think so, but I’m not sure. How long did it take before?”

“Minutes…”

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