Friday, May 26, 2006

Nothing Happened This Week

It's been a couple of weeks since the unpleasantness with the alternate earths and the killing and the shouting and all and my therapist thinks I should start keeping a journal of my inner thoughts and feelings. Well screw you Dr Willis. If you were any kind of therapist I wouldn't respond to a serious global emergency by sticking a goddamned gun in my mouth. I blame you for the last three suicide attempts, you quack. You're just lucky I can't afford a real therapist so I have to put up with your bargain basement Jungian crap.

So anyway, I pulled the big reveal on Cassie last week. I was all Mister Cool Detective, pulling out the polaroid and saying 'Hey, upside down this means... resurrection!' It was great. I felt like I was an actual proper detective solving a proper crime, not a miserable failure who has to investigate why his odometer's wrong.

I despise myself.

Anyway, suddenly I had this wave of nausea. I mean, this is supposed to be about my dead wife, not my own feelings of self-empowerment. (Yeah, Dr Willis, I learned one of your giant quack words. Bite me.) So I turned around and walked straight out before she could even say anything. And then I threw up outside, all over this statue of Superboy nailed to a cross made out of Barry Allen's face. That was just the last thing I needed so I ran away.

So after that experience I spent all of this week sitting in my hotel room. Mostly weeping.

The same thing happened just after I visited my wife's grave after it got vandalised - I said I was going to solve that mystery, and then like an idiot I tried to wiggle my nose like I used to and it just gave this pathetic twitch. So I ran away again, with the cemetary guy asking was I okay and did I need a hot beverage - I just ran back to my wrecked house and curled up under half a wardrobe for... jesus, it was days.

Anyway, I've got to do something to get myself out of this fog, so I'm taking Dr Willis's crappy journal advice. Hopefully I might manage to get something done by next week's entry. I'm not sure.

Possibly the week after. I need my pills.


Blogger Pete Baran said...

Lol, Dibny - you r a luser. Where can I get your stash of Gingold as I want to take over your Elongated Man gig and become the All New Elongated Man. A man called Grant Morrison said there has never been a super stretcher who has also been a porn star: what a gimmick. Your nose twitches near mystery, my special twitches near teh SEX.

I also look bitchin' in purple with a bit E on my chest.

1:07 AM  
Blogger jean loring said...

oh god, are you still whining about Sue? ok yes, I left tiny footprints in her brane but I'd do it again in a second. now you're free to hook up with a giant ghost like i did - oh who am I kidding. It was a total rebound. Ray! if you're reading this - call me pls thx

5:34 AM  
Blogger Ralph Dibny said...

You are NOT allowed to post on this blog Loring. I'm going to delete your comment as soon as I work out how to use this goddamned thing and then I'm calling the internet superheroes. I seem to remember we have internet superheroes now - probably called 'Download' and 'Ram' and 'MegaByte' - and I am getting them to, I don't know, 'frag' your 'account' with some sort of 'chip'. I'll work it all out with Batman when he gets back. Yes! I said Batman! Hide in your hole, Loring, because your wife-killing crime is about to bear some bitter goddamned fruit. Bitter cyber fruit.

Don't post here again! You killed my wife!

10:21 AM  
Blogger Mark said...

What's this "Waymore, New England" crap, Ralphy? I thought you were living in Opal City, with all the cool cats.

2:53 PM  
Blogger Ralph Dibny said...

Opal sucks unless you like Bakelite. I'm a Waymore boy until I die, man. GOOOO SANDFLEAS!

3:16 PM  
Blogger Rafa Rivas said...

Check your gingold formula, my dear American counterpart, it might be affecting your brain again, because Waymore is in Nebraska.

-Rafa Rivas, el mundialmente famoso Hombre Elástico.

11:51 PM  
Blogger Георгий said...

God darn, what a great blog! I 'll show it to my friends, and then maybe we won't infest your pity America wïh radioactive bears on flying balalaikas!

P.S. Seriously, great blog

1:54 PM  

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