For an extra billion, they’ll throw in BjorkOctober 13, 2008
Psycho Dave is rummaging through my closets, and it looks like he’s stealing my winter apparel.
“Hey, I need those coats and scarves and furry Russian hats for the coming winter,” I say to him.
“Well, I need them more,” says Psycho Dave. “I just made a huge purchase with the money I earned from my deal with the Pentagon to show tits and vag to Iraqis to make them pliant to American ideas.”
“What did you buy? A chalet in Aspen?” I say derisively.
“No, I bought Iceland,” says Psycho Dave.
“What do you mean you bought Iceland?” I say.
“I mean I bought the entire country of Iceland,” says Psycho Dave. “Iceland was going bankrupt and… well, now I own it.”
I don’t ask him the details of his purchase, because with Psycho Dave it’s best not to know the details of his exploits. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him take my winter coats.
“You do know that Iceland is rather temperate, right?” I say. “It’s an old joke… Icleand is really green and Greenland is really icy.”
“I have no time for jokes that don’t end with someone having their human dignity horrifically violated,” says Psycho Dave, continuing to pile up my fleece collection. “And as the owner of Iceland I have even less time.”
“So what are you going to do with Iceland now that you own it?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” shrugs Psycho Dave. “Probably fuck it.”
“You’re going to fuck Iceland?” I say.
“I fuck everything I own,” says Psycho Dave. “My recliner, my couch, my vinyl copy of Frampton Comes Alive…”
“But we’re talking about a country here,” I say. “A whole country.”
“If I don’t fuck Iceland, who will?” says Psycho Dave. “Say, you want to be prime minister? I’ll let you get sloppy seconds.”
Well… all right, but he’s still not taking my damn winter coats.