| STUFFED MUFLON From the wood-panneled wall of of the cottage in the mountains of Gorenjska looks upon us a nice specimen of stuffed muflon s head. Nostrils, muzzle, snout,shinning black glass eyes, curved twice. I love women. I love all of them. I invented a story which I throw as a bate to women in the pub. �I am a misfortunate person, without a wife, I must take care of everything in the house. Comming home after work, I have to take care of eveything by myself: I cook, I make order, I wash and iron the linen�� Whenever finishing the story, taking my last sip of beer, I say further I need a wife. I am talking across the table to a friend of mine, but always loud enough so the broad in the cottage room can hear. I don t know that ever happened some woman had not answered; I wouldn t wash and cook for you, for the whole of the world, I dont want to. I havent the slitest intention to.� �Who told you I want you to?� I get her back even. �Whoever on earth told you so? I would nt in my dreams allow you to cook and wash and make order for me, not to you. I don t like a woman like you, I don t want such a woman.� When I finally find a woman caught on a most unbelivable lies and most preposterous sweetly words �. I am going places all alone, i say, on mobile phone I am explaning how my ex-wife has robbed me of my house, how he has manipulated my son against me so that he has attacked me violently and beatten me fiercely.. the only thing I must take care of, is, I must leave the woman first after the sweetness of the liason has passed, I must be the first to attack her with all means regardless the scruples. Fuck her. As I say, this is a game, and all the women, worthy of sin, acting on this chessboard, for me�just for me� My wife? I dont ask her a thing. She is-should be contented with the appearance. And all that is left over. |
| NAGA�ENI MUFLON Iz leseno opa�enega zidu gorenjske gorske ko�e brezbri�no gleda lep primerek naga�ene muflonove glave. Nosnice, smr�ek, gobec, svetle�e �rne steklene o�i, dvojno zaviti rebrasti rogovi. Ljubim �enske. Jaz ljubim vse �enske. Izmislil sem si zgodbo, ki jo me�em kot trnek babam v gostilni: �Jaz, reve�, zdaj ko sem brez �ene, moram sam skrbet za vse. Po slu�bi, ko pridem domov, kuham, pospravljam, perem, likam�� Vedno, ko kon�am ob predzadnjem po�irku piva, dodam, da rabim �eno. Govorim sicer znancu �ez mizo, a vedno dovolj glasno, da sli�ijo tudi tipinje v gostinski sobi. Ne vem, �e se je kdaj zgodilo, da se ni katera oglasila: �Jaz ti �e ne bom likala pa prala, mi niti na misel ne pride,saj nisem tvoja slu�kinja� �Kdo pa ti je rekel, da te maram, � jo zabijem. � Kdo pa ti je rekel to? Tebi �e ne bi dovolil, da mi kuha�, pere� in lika�. Tebi �e ne. Mi �e na misel ne pride, take ne maram!� Ko kak�no najdem na najbolj prozorno la� in najbolj baha�ko sladke besede�Kako sam hodim po svetu, po mobiju razlagam, kako mi je �ena pobrala hi�o, kako je na�untala sina, da me je pretepel� moram paziti samo na to, da bom jaz tisti, ki jo bom zajebal prvi in tudi zadnji. Kajti, to je igra, in vse �enske, vredne greha, nastopajo na tej �ahovnici, samo zame� �ena? Sploh je ne vpra�am. Ona je - mora biti - zadovoljna z videzom. In vsem ostalim. |