What's the Difference Between Herpes & True Love?
Nov. 8th, 2025 01:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraDreamed Jeanna had taken me to visit (ulp!) my father, who was either a real-life magician or playing a magician in a movie—the dream wasn't clear—but anyway, he was sitting on a throne and when he spoke, his eyes kinda flashed these purple & green pinwheel sparks, the corniest fuckin' special effects in the world (thought I, dans rêve).
He lived in a huge stone mansion, high up on a hill. Jeanna was trying to arrange some sort of audience for me. All I could think was, He's got to die soon! Maybe he'll leave me some money! (In non-dream life, he's been dead for quite some time.)
###
Remuneration this past week has been sloggy to the nth. I didn't want to do it, but, of course, that didn't matter: You do what you gotta do. Cleaning one's house is actually not one of the things you gotta do—as the state of the Patrizia-torium amply demonstrates—but making $$$ to keep the kiskas in toys & their preferred brand of kibble is.
###
It's an Icky week.
Immediately upon arrival, Icky told me Dante is in imminent danger of dropping out of college, which did not come as any big surprise to me: The kid is obviously massively fucked up, a fact both his parents seem in massive denial about "He's partying nonstop, and he's got this weird eating disorder thing—"
"Anorexia?" I asked. Wouldn't have expected that. If anything, Dante was fatter when I saw him over fall break, still very handsome but with the unmistakable beginnings of a double chin, his diet of potato chips, soda, & no physical exercise catching up with his adolescent metabolism.
"No, he thinks his body is ugly because he sees all these influencers with perfect bodies on TikTok," Icky said. "I keep telling him they're all AI-enhanced, and then he tells me, I don't want to talk about it with you; you don't understand. He's doing steroids. And vaping & smoking."
"Tough time to be young," I said. It was all I could think of.
"Good thing I didn't rent out that other bedroom."
"Really?" I asked. "If he drops out, you want him up here?"
"What's wrong with up here?" Icky asked belligerently.
"For a 19-year-old kid? What is there for him to do up here? Get a job at a fast food restaurant? He doesn't seem to have any friends. If he drops out, you should take him to live with you in the City. There's more for him to do there."
"I can't do that," Icky said. "I'm dating."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"I'm looking for a real relationship. Someone I can settle down and grow old with," he explained.
What do you mean "grow old with," Icky? I thought. You're 63! You are old! You're looking for someone who will uncomplainingly change the bedsheets when you start peeing on yourself. Good luck with that.
But I said nothing because, of course, what is there to say? Sure, sell your kid down the river for a relationship that will probably never exist.
"You know, like the old joke!" Icky continued. "What's the difference between true love and herpes?"
"I don't know," I said. "What?"
"Herpes lasts forever."
He lived in a huge stone mansion, high up on a hill. Jeanna was trying to arrange some sort of audience for me. All I could think was, He's got to die soon! Maybe he'll leave me some money! (In non-dream life, he's been dead for quite some time.)
###
Remuneration this past week has been sloggy to the nth. I didn't want to do it, but, of course, that didn't matter: You do what you gotta do. Cleaning one's house is actually not one of the things you gotta do—as the state of the Patrizia-torium amply demonstrates—but making $$$ to keep the kiskas in toys & their preferred brand of kibble is.
###
It's an Icky week.
Immediately upon arrival, Icky told me Dante is in imminent danger of dropping out of college, which did not come as any big surprise to me: The kid is obviously massively fucked up, a fact both his parents seem in massive denial about "He's partying nonstop, and he's got this weird eating disorder thing—"
"Anorexia?" I asked. Wouldn't have expected that. If anything, Dante was fatter when I saw him over fall break, still very handsome but with the unmistakable beginnings of a double chin, his diet of potato chips, soda, & no physical exercise catching up with his adolescent metabolism.
"No, he thinks his body is ugly because he sees all these influencers with perfect bodies on TikTok," Icky said. "I keep telling him they're all AI-enhanced, and then he tells me, I don't want to talk about it with you; you don't understand. He's doing steroids. And vaping & smoking."
"Tough time to be young," I said. It was all I could think of.
"Good thing I didn't rent out that other bedroom."
"Really?" I asked. "If he drops out, you want him up here?"
"What's wrong with up here?" Icky asked belligerently.
"For a 19-year-old kid? What is there for him to do up here? Get a job at a fast food restaurant? He doesn't seem to have any friends. If he drops out, you should take him to live with you in the City. There's more for him to do there."
"I can't do that," Icky said. "I'm dating."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"I'm looking for a real relationship. Someone I can settle down and grow old with," he explained.
What do you mean "grow old with," Icky? I thought. You're 63! You are old! You're looking for someone who will uncomplainingly change the bedsheets when you start peeing on yourself. Good luck with that.
But I said nothing because, of course, what is there to say? Sure, sell your kid down the river for a relationship that will probably never exist.
"You know, like the old joke!" Icky continued. "What's the difference between true love and herpes?"
"I don't know," I said. "What?"
"Herpes lasts forever."
![IMG_20250227_144736730[1].jpg](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/egg_shell/1265782/5465053/5465053_original.jpg "IMG_20250227_144736730[1].jpg")
