Theo Speaks, Sort Of

Okay, so Theo, the self proclaimed king of the internet and boyfriend of the girl that I’m suppose to be tutoring has found out about this blog.

He was not happy.

I told him the blog is my attempt at documenting my life in case I meet an “unfortunate” accident. He was not happy.

I told him I was not really writing “about” him, but merely “of” him. He was not happy.

I told him this blog could become a literary classic and he would be remembered with the likes of Pap Finn, Fagan and Nurse Ratched. He had no clue who I was talking about and was still not happy.

Theo then explained that if I did not let him “have his say” inside The Lazlo Files that he would tell Jessie Byrd all about it. She would “fucking flip” and then “kick my ass” and stop going to school, ending my employment.

Faced with corrupting my art or losing my steady stream of income I did what Hemingway, Joyce and all the great writers have done — I chose the money.

The following is exactly what Theo dictated to me about himself, his life and his relationship with women.

“This blog is bullshit and Lazlo is a fucking faggot. Seriously, I am this close to kicking his ass from one side of Houston to the other. I can totally do it and I might do it this week. When I do break him like a bitch I will take photos and shit and put them on this stupid fucking blog so everyone can see what a pussy he is.”

“Fuck you Lazlo. This is bullshit.”

(Theo proceeds to inhale a very large bong hit)

“First off, I don’t play World of Warcraft all day long. So what if I do? World of Warcraft is not gay in any way. World of Warcraft is just like real life except its totally bad ass. This game is hard and losers like Lazlo are just mad because they are too stupid to play and too broke to afford a computer. I have organized killer raids with up to 20 warriors. I would like see Lazlo try to do that. No way could he have raided the Monastery Keep or run through the Crystal Palace dungeon. That shit took like 2 days to plan.”

(more marijuana consumed)

“I don’t beat off, dude. That’s fucking retarded that you even said that. I’ve never beat off in my life. So what if I look at porn? That just means I’m not a faggot like you, Lazlo. Your name sucks. I look at porn maybe once a week and I only do it to come up with more ideas on how to fuck my girlfriend. Why would I beat off when I’ve got, like, the hottest fucking chic ever living in my house. Lazlo, you beat off. You don’t even have a girlfriend. You’re probably just pissed off cause I got Jessie all you have is “Lefty” and “Righty”. Hold on.”

(takes some time to pack another bowl full of marijuana)

“Dude, I don’t beat off. That’s crazy. I have sex with Jessie non-stop. She’s always like, “Theo, fuck me again” and I totally do cause I get, like, 9 boners a day.”

(now smokes the fresh bowl of marijuana)

“I don’t smell. That’s so stupid you even said that. Jessie wants me all the time. I only stay home cause whenever I go out I get like 3 or 4 girls trying to ride my johnson. Some girl totally showed me her boobies and was like “Come and get ’em boy” but I was like, “Yah, you’re hot but my bitch is hotter back home” and that shit happens to me, like, once a week.”

(Theo is off the couch and looking out the window into the backyard)

“I’m fucking rich and don’t have to work and you’re just jealous cause you went to college and don’t have shit. Look at me, my name is Lazlo, I have stupid fucking name and went to college but I’m still retarded.”

(I then asked him if he had anything else to add to his part of the blog)

“No, I have to take a shit. Wait, yah. I want you to say you’re faggot, like, 25 times and then say “Theo Rocks Balls” and add in something about Jessie being hot.”

(I ask Theo if he wants me to show this to Jessie)

“Are you fucking high? No way dude. Jesus. I’ll be back. I’m totally going to crap my pants.”

So there you go, Theo has now mounted his self defense. Frankly, I’m surprised he can read.

Hide and Seek, Jessie Style

Shit, this job sucks.

For starters, the address that Cyndi gave me was a non-starter.

Supposedly Jessie Byrd is living at this non-descript and fairly new apartment complex just north of I-10 and south of the Heights. If you know Houston, it’s the apartment complex across the highway from that pair of porn shops by the Shell station. I had never been to this apartment complex before. I have been to one of the porn shops (the DVD’s are way over priced but they got a huge dildo selection).

I drove over there and then wandered around until a I found a gate that hadn’t closed properly.

The complex is a total mess. The layout of the buildings and their labeling make absolutely no sense. It’s sort of like the people who live there do not want anyone to ever visit.

I found Jessie’s apartment and knocked on the door. Of course no one answered. So I started knocking on the neighbors’ doors.

There is an art to randomly knocking on the doors of apartments in Texas. You have to do so in a friendly way and then step at least 4 feet away from the door. Make sure your knees are slightly bent so you can get the hell out of there if someone starts shooting at you. Also, make sure you’ve got a friendly demeanor so that if they open the door you won’t scare them. If you look too friendly, they will assume you are selling something or introduce them to your particular flavor of Jesus and never open the door.

In general, all women will assume you are planning to rape them.

After doing my best not to look like a rapist, burglar, sales man or someone trying to help them find Jesus, I stuck a note on Jessie’s door explaining I was sent by her father and urgently needed to talk to her.

Why didn’t I just call her?

Hahahahaha. That would have been too easy.

I did call her, but in a sign of things to come, her voice mail was full.

I’ve never understood that. How hard is it to check your voice mail and then either call the person back or ignore them. Either way, DELETE YOUR OLD MESSAGES.

I swung back by her place at noon. I could tell a neighbor was looking at me through their peephole while I did the random neighbor door knock routine. They got really quiet and just stood there, obviously peering through their peephole at the me, positive that I was going to evangelize to them as I raped them, stole their TV and signed them up to a year’s subscription of Marie Claire.

The note was still on Jessie’s door.

I came back around 6 p.m. and discovered the note was gone. A normal person would have thought the note had blown away. I’m a little more optimistic than most.

The door knock routine began again and, as luck would have it, the first door I tried was answered.

The guy was Indian and obviously too new to Houston to realize that I might rape, rob, sell and convert him before the cops arrived.

The bad news? Jessie had moved

The good news? Indian guy told me she had moved in with her boyfriend. He did not know the guy’s name.

He was helpful and friendly and spoke broken English.

I decided not to rape, rob, sell or convert him.

I thought about stopping by that other porn shack, but went home instead.