Subliminal White Trash

Welcome. This site contains a cross section of my writing including stories, comedy skits, poetry, dialogues and observational humour with a satirical edge. Feedback is much appreciated. Coming through people! Clear a path! My e-mail is

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Location: Burlington, Ontario, Canada

After graduating high school in 1995 with a significant amount of embarrassingly cliched emotional baggage, Kevin "Subliminal White Trash" Pearce made his way to Toronto in a perfectly understandable attempt to outrun his past. After encountering many similarly desperate and stubbornly eccentric people, Kevin found his way into the acting and spoken word scenes. With an amazing and almost inhuman effort, Kevin somehow negotiated through his self destructive tendencies on his way to finding some kind of second rate enlightenment in his strange little world of reckless, impulsive creativity. After spending three years in Toronto, Kevin decided to return to the suburbs in order to preserve his diminishing supply of mental health. Sometimes he even thinks it was the right decision.

Saturday, July 07, 2012

The Phone Call - fiction

“You know what you did.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play stupid.  You know what you did.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Wrong.  You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Actually, no.  I don’t.”
“You better watch your back.”
“This is getting a bit ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not.  You know what you did and you’re going to pay.”
“Can you be a bit more specific?  I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what this is about.”
“Actually no, I don’t.”
“You’re not making this easy for yourself Cindy.”
“Who’s Cindy?  My name is Sandra.”
“What?  You’re serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious.  My name is Sandra.”
“You sound just like Cindy.  Hmmmmm.  Well isn’t this a bit awkward.”
“Yes it is.”
“Well.  I must have the wrong number.”
“What did this Cindy person do to deserve these threats?”
“She dumped my friend in favor of his sister.”
“Ouch.  That hurts.  But seriously.  Wouldn't she recognize your voice?”
“Uhhhh....yeah.  This wasn't very well planned.  I’m actually not a bad guy.”
“May I remind you that you were threatening me?”
“I’m sorry about that.  You seem like a nice lady.  Do you have a man in your life?”
“Are you kidding?  After what you said to me?”
“I said I was sorry.”
“OK.  This has gone from ridiculous to strange to awkward and back to strange again.”
“You know what?  I agree with you.  I can’t believe I agreed to do this.  This is so typical of how my life has gone so horribly wrong.  I actually don’t blame his girlfriend for dumping him and choosing his sister.  She is HOT.  I’ve got a crush on her myself but she won’t even look at me because I live under the poverty line.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah.  I get really depressed sometimes.  I don’t know how it all went so wrong.”
“Well, I’m not a therapist.”
“Fair enough.  I’ve been drinking all day.  To be honest I can’t stop drinking.  I’m a mess.”
“OK.  Like I said though, I’m not a therapist.”
“Yeah.  I’m gonna hang up now before this conversation has a chance to reach epic proportions of awkwardness, which is an obvious pattern in my life.”
“OK.  Good luck with that.  I think.”


Anonymous Chris (sickboy_xl) said...

You're still the master! Keep writing P!.

10:17 PM  
Blogger Craig said...

Nice piece! awkward phone calls are much funnier in writing.

8:36 PM  

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