9 Lives of a Wet Pussycat

Dear gypsy, I woke up very early this morning.

David was still asleep and the house was very quiet.

I dressed and went to the stables.

As you know, I'm having an affair with the new stableboy,

David brought back from France.

He's so young and beautiful and quiet.

When he touches me, I lose my mind.

I want to grab at him and pull him to me,

to scratch at him.

Gypsy, I can't understand anything when we're fucking

and god, when he puts it into me,

and keeps pushing deeper and deeper.

I feel I could come forever.

And the hay on my back and him reaching inside me,

it's all I can bear not to scream out and wake everyone.

And then when he comes,

when he comes, oh god,

how I love it when he comes and comes.

Oh gypsy, you must really learn to love men again.

Gypsy, you must really learn to love men again.

Learn to love men again.

That's pauline.

She does nothing but have intercourse all day long.

Then she writes me letters about it

as if I might be interested.

Those are all hers, faithfully written,

telling me about her private afternoons

and her greasy paramours,

bragging about her incest, her lechery and her violence,

but I know all that already.

You see, she's really just a child.

I haven't seen her in a while,

but she keeps in close contact.

This is her way of saying, I'm there by you.

And it's good, very good,

but I miss her and sometimes I hate her

for not being here when I need her.

What can I do?

All I have is the letters and the opium

to explain why she's away.

Dearest pauline, have you ever imagined

that your men have had me as they've had you?

Have you guessed yet why I know your lovers so well?

No.

You could never guess, my simple, passionate pauline.

My present is your present.

But yours is not mine.

I share my moments with you, I live my loves with you,

but not with your consent, not with your knowledge.

But time will come

when you will know it and you will want it.

But the time is not yet here.

Dear gypsy, it began raining again today

as we left the house.

As usual, David and I weren't talking,

but by now it doesn't matter that much to me.

He wouldn't tell richio or me where we were going

and so we all sat in silence, staring out the windows.

Oh, we still make love together

when he's not snorting coke with richio

or balling his mistresses and boyfriends.

He's the only man I've ever had who can fuck and fuck

and never lose his hard on and I can come 100 times

and he keeps balling as if nothing were happening,

but this cool detachment of his

which drives me so wild when we're in bed,

makes the rest of my life with him unbearable.

Which raised the humidity 93%.

The wind.

Fill it up please.

Do you have your key?

Oh.

Darling, I have to go to the restroom.

Sir, you got a restroom here?

Yeah, I'll get you a key.

Here's the key.

Bathroom's in the back.

Thank you.

I'm laying out three cards, Hungarian fashion,

representing pauline's past.

The empress, eternal symbol of the female and fertility.

The emperor.

Symbol of paternity and masculinity.

And the devil.

Symbol of the domination of matter over spirit,

of revolution and incest.

But I knew this would read so.

I know pauline.

She has her grandmother's soul.

They even say she has her face.

You see, pauline's great grandfather

and his two daughters came to America in 1903 from Poland.

Pauline's great grandfather was a very strict Christian.

He was really overprotective with the two girls.

When the old man would go out to work,

he would lock them up in the apartment.

The only time they could leave the house

was under his chaperone.

Life was pretty lonely.

And the older they got, the more curious they became.

And he dwelt in a cave,

he and his two daughters.

And the first born said unto the younger, our father is old.

There is not a man in the earth to come in unto us

after the manner of all the earth.

Come, let us give our father wine to drink.

Let us lie with him and preserve offspring for our father.

What are you looking at?

Nothing.

Why don't you help your sister clear the table?

Don't just sit there.

Don't you think that's enough?

No, we have to get him drunk.

But sis.

What are you saying?

You whispering behind my back?

No, no.

Clean the table.

I told you to clean the table?

Come and bring me some more wine.

Coming.

Papa?

Papa?

He's sound asleep.

Yeah, come on.