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The Fate of Gods
by Albert Russo

To tell you the truth, I did like Haniya before I learnt of her terrorist shenanigans, but now, I don’t know what to do, coz she might drag me one day into some kind of bellowing and uncushy adventure, in spite of her being ‘redeemed’ as a journalist.

Even though my uncle thinks that I’m a pretty daring gal, there are things I do not wish to try, like illegal drugs or shoot-outs. I didn’t come to Israel to fight for either the Israelis or the Palestinians. Actually, we weren’t supposed to be here any longer, overstaying our welcome because of Miss friggin Corona. What a present! And then too, Haniya is now making doe’s eyes to me. Don’t forget she is transgender. I have nothing against them who want to become a person of the opposite sex, but I still prefer to keep mine without being setchually hair-assed. And too, she’s three years older than me, with horror-mones that haven’t attacked my body yet. That is supposed to happen at puberty, which I hope comes Joanna-come-lately, the later the better, with all the pissing blood and what not. My mom warned me about it all.

Hey goddessss, why the hell did you afflict us girls in that manner, fer chrissake? And not men!!! You, flippant beast! No, I won’t apologize, you just botched us when you created Adam and Eve. Were you drunk, or stoned, or both? There oughta be a higher authority, yeah, higher than thou, to prosecute and lock you in a cage with your nemesis Herr devil. And I would be the judgess. Mark my word, your turn will come, like all the gods of Ancient Egypt, Greece or Rome, who fell one after the other and have been cast in bronze or in marble, for us humans to remember what nuts you were.

Actually, when I see you in the museums my uncle drags me to, I spit at your feet - mini-mously, so that nobody can see me, coz they might think I was being gross like them Chinese peasants, who still use public spitoons, expectorating - not expecting, you nerds! I ain’t talking about women carrying a baby inside their guts -, for everyone to hear how well they can get rid of their disgusting mucus shmucus. In some parts of Asia, it is still aceptable to burp loudly and to stinking fart at table, to prove that they have thoroughly enjoyed their food. Wow, the smells of sewagy garlic, onions and dead rats!

I sometimes ask myself why we talk with such delight about what we eat, the way a delicacy or a dessert is prepared, but never of what comes after - hey, stop it already, I ain’t being vulgar, this is a legitimate question, even if no one dares voice it!

‘From mouth to poop’ oughta be the title of a study done by a nutritionist. How less palatable are dissections of the human body? Siiiis.