Yerbluetoy: we have no memory of flyers in the night.
Trixietreat: ?
Yerbluetoy: pixies
Trixietreat: god, do we agree on any music?
Yerbluetoy: yes. Iggy Pop.
Trixietreat: yes, that’s one.
Yerbluetoy: yeah, but c’mon, how could you not like the pixies?
Yerbluetoy: is she weird is she white? Is she promised to the night?
Trixietreat: fat guys don’t do it for me. Sorry.
Yerbluetoy: why? You always claim to be a hedonist.
Yerbluetoy: and eating is a way of self-pleasuring.
Trixietreat: and pleasuring others. Remember when I made you that roast?
Trixietreat: you’d been living off of balance bars and green tea.
Yerbluetoy: melted balance bars
Yerbluetoy: that’s when I was having a hard time swallowing food that wasn’t packaged..
Trixietreat: especially meat.
Yerbluetoy: it was a real thing. You saw me. I’d literally start gagging.
Trixietreat: so I decided to help you get over it by making something that I knew you couldn’t resist.
Yerbluetoy: you got me drunk first.
Trixietreat: extremely drunk. In the middle of the afternoon. It was fun.
Yerbluetoy: Yeah. G&Ts.
Trixietreat: when the meal was ready you ate it all. The pink and juicy meat, covered in brown gravy. The spicy boiled potatoes—the bright orange carrots. Warm nut bread…sea salt and sweet butter…Italian mineral water…
Yerbluetoy: ok, let’s talk about something else.
Trixietreat: you enjoy so well. Its a real talent—how deeply you pleasure in things…
Trixietreat: hello?
Trixietreat: this thing on?
Yerbluetoy: but what I really like is to watch.
Trixietreat: good point.
Trixietreat: you have the most intense eyes
Trixietreat: like blue lasers—even when yr high.
Trixietreat: yr eyes have the power to transform a person, just by deciding to watch them.
Trixietreat: by deciding to take an interest.
Yerbluetoy: bullshit. I took an interest in you but it didn’t change you at all
Trixietreat: of course i changed.
Yerbluetoy: you didn’t come with me. I told you it would be good for you to see the world, but you said no.
Yerbluetoy: it’s not like you were learning anything in that stupid school.
Trixietreat: I wanted to come but I can’t leave my sister.
Yerbluetoy: oh, give me a break.
Trixietreat: she needs me.
Yerbluetoy: you’re twelve! She’s 22.
Trixietreat: 23. she turned 23 on Thursday.
Yerbluetoy: oh, shit. Tell her I say happy birthday.
Trixietreat: whatever. She knows you don’t mean it.
Yerbluetoy: of course I do, why would you say something like that?
Yerbluetoy: I love your sister.
Trixietreat: no you don’t. you used her for a little while and told her you were making a movie when really you were just entertaining yourself and fighting your interior boredom.
Yerbluetoy: I am making a movie
Trixietreat: you have no plans to actually finish anything.
Trixietreat: we all fell for it. Me too.
Trixietreat: maybe I fell for it most of all, but not for the reasons that people will think I did.
Yerbluetoy: I’m making a movie. I’m shooting some of it in Europe, that’s all.
Yerbluetoy: it’s called having different SCENES.
Yerbluetoy: so get over it.
Trixietreat: we put you up. My sister bleached her hair. You could have at least told us the plan.
Yerbluetoy: so I didn’t. so what? I’m the director. I’m making you into stars. Anyway she looks better this way.
Trixietreat: you ripped all the sleeves off her shirts.
Yerbluetoy: well, exactly. It’s Arizona. She’s playing the part of Sterling Fassbinder. Sterling would never wear sleeves in the fucking desert.
Yerbluetoy: admit it: you love the scene where your sister’s racing down the lonely highway in a Ford Mustang, top down, song of the same name by Serge Gainsbourg blasting on the radio (“Paco Rabonne!”) the wind making ripples in her drugstore blonde hair, shades on in the middle of the night, braless, nipples erect, grease stained T-shirt billowing out behind her…
Trixietreat: is that what the real Sterling is like?
Yerbluetoy: nope
Yerbluetoy: she doesn’t have the mustang anymore. It got impounded.
Trixietreat: I mean is she that fierce? That free?
Yerbluetoy: I don’t know. That’s the thing, I want your sister to bring out all the broken hearted parts of Sterling. That tough guy act is only an act.
Yerbluetoy: there’s something desperate about her
Trixietreat: I like tough guy acts.
Trixietreat: I like them better on girls than on boys.
Trixietreat: that’s why I like it when you get into yr directorial role…I like when you point the camera at me and tell me what to do.
Yerbluetoy: like that time in the bathroom.
Trixietreat: the black and white one upstairs. where we first met.
Yerbluetoy: it was all your idea.
Trixietreat: plenty of girls my age don’t know what a clit is.
Trixietreat: they don’t know what’s on their very own bodies.
Trixietreat: no one talks to them and they find things and think its something wrong.
Yerbluetoy: so there you are on the toilet, talking to the camera about how you found a blister down there.
Trixietreat: then I lean over and sterilize a needle with a match.
Yerbluetoy: at that point I was already freaking out.
Trixietreat: you didn’t act like it…you just got on your knees on the bathroom floor.
Trixietreat: you zoomed in, snapping on your gum.
Trixietreat: I pulled my lips apart and pressed on my little pink clit with my thumb.
Yerbluetoy: “There it is!” you said, in the sweetest little voice.
Trixietreat: I want to sound a little excited.
Yerbluetoy: Like a kid on a cereal commercial.
Trixietreat: my character’s doing the right thing—she’s going to remove the imperfection—the puss-filled sickness.
Trixietreat: I brought the needle down swiftly.
Yerbluetoy: Hot Quaker fucking oats!
Trixietreat: lol.
Yerbluetoy: you pierced it straight across—I couldn’t believe it
Yerbluetoy: I braced myself--expecting the blood to come shooting out.
Yerbluetoy: then you told me, all matter-of-factly, how you’d done this before.
Trixietreat: plenty of times. duh.
miss liberty phonecards
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