Oddly enough in the last few weeks some of the old cast has resurfaced for guest-star cameo appearances on the final episodes of…
The Cakes McCain Show: Loving, Hating and Leaving South Italy.
Last month I finally picked up the rest of my things from ‘The English Patient’ formerly known as: ‘The Englishman,’ or ‘My Ex The Frozen Cod’ as I more often than not refer to him. I had asked him in advance to make sure he checked and included the items that we had listed in previous emails. We agreed he would hand over the goods at his cousin’s café in the main town, but as soon as I arrived and was within an earshot, I abruptly received a text from him saying he couldn’t wait and had to take the bus back up to his village. Sure…
Cluck, cluck, cluck….
Regardless, I wasn’t all on pins and needles to see him either. Later at home when I checked the bag, sure enough I noticed things missing. Figures. Instead of my microfiber bathrobe, he included 2 faded, grungy bed sheets. What would possess him to think he should hand those over? WHO DOES THAT? Then of course, last Saturday during one of my social comas I felt a desire for a Lord of the Rings DVD marathon, the first DVD was missing. Thanks for continuing to rain on my parade. Jerk.
He should do the women of the world a favour of grand humanitarianism, and never date.
Cravings for the Cake?
2 weeks ago I received an unexpected text from none other than
epic-shouldered Italian Clark Kent…
CK: Kirkland signature 100%pure grade A dark amber Maple Syrup made in Canada… What do you think?
Again with the Maple Syrup?
I think this discourse was tired 2 months ago, and you’re grasping at straws.
CM: Sounds like a winner. I’ll give you my assessment after I swim in a vat of it in a month from now.
CK: In a month from now? Where are you now?
CM: In Cava but in about a month I am leaving for Canada.
CK: Leaving forever or what?
CM: Yes of course. I have some business to take care of, then in the spring I am buying an eco-house on a small island on the west coast.
CK: Great! So we got to set up a big farewell party!
Ya ok, I’ll bring the maple syrup you bring the bullshit. More invites you can solicit then subsequently refuse. This is so old. Reply not worth the finger exercise.
Speaking of finger exercising our friend ‘Mr. Frozen Vegetable’ finally became tired enough to stop sending me his brilliant, daily one-liners ie. “Ciao Bella” via cel phone. It could very well have had to do with me telling him I was going back to my country, him promising me an evening out before I go, then me admitting I had no desire to have sex after said outing. Alas, problem solved and 15 seconds of my valuable time unwasted. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? Keep your socks on for somebody else.
Could it be?
Oh no… It’s HIM!
A few days ago as I hitched a ride into town with my dog’s vet. As she parked in front of the train station to make a brief pit stop in order to meet with a client, and exited the car, I looked out the passenger side window to saw she had parked behind another car… and noticing the driver (looking rather familiar) as he exited… a crappy BLACK Fiat?
There he was. Roberto, sexual tape-worm, driver of NOW, black crappy Fiat. As he walked over, his hotness was visibly noticeable and utterly undeniable. However hotness in no way will ever over shadow the grand douchbaggery or the exaggerated heebie-jebbieness of this epic creep.
As he approached the window, I had no worries over censoring the words that were about to come out of my mouth from that moment forth. I was so f’cking cool…
R: Hey, how are you? Listen I’m sorry about how it ended.
CM: I’m great thanks. Um, I’m not. You’re a big fat liar, you know? It’s not just random lying either, you lie about EVERYTHING. It’s like you have this mental problem and have no capacity to differentiate between truth and falseness. What are you doing here? Trolling for chicks as always?
Long pause while autopilot bullshit prepares for lift-off …
R: Just came here to meet-up with a friend. No… come on, that’s not true. What are you doing later? How about I come over to your house later this evening.
CM: Yeah actually it is, I think it’s a mental disease you harbour in your brain. You’re a sociopath, a parasite. And no, you’re not coming over. I am busy preparing a move back to my country.
As we spoke he smiled while maintaining a perfect vacancy behind his eyes…
R: Really, you’re going back? Why? You don’t like Italy? Come on, I am sorry about how things ended, how about I come over? We can talk and say goodbye. What about tomorrow night?
CM: I love Italy, it’s the ignorant masses I am not so sure about. As I said, I’m not sorry… And no I’m busy, my friend is coming from Rome.
R: Is he your boyfriend?
CM: YES. So goodbye, it was nice speaking to you again. Good luck and have a nice life.
In my own words, this all I can hope for. I am not planning any grand hurrahs before my departure, only some causal, and other more intimate, tearful goodbyes with a few selected friends and neighbors. I don’t feel like celebrating. The future is uncertain, and emotions are running all over the map. But like always I’ll make it through, somehow.