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Purim Joy. Purim Orgy in Cowboy Style
- Lady Ronit
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
The Purim orgy in cowboy style lasted two days, but let’s not jump ahead. This is neither fitting for a man nor a woman. Only fools do so, and so did your father when he fucked your mother, and you were born.
Purim 2025 was looking hopeless, and I hated it, until the Purim miracle happened, and a sudden change took place. A photo session was taking place in my office, I was making eyes at the camera, posing on the desk in my Gucci rubber boots, and then – I hear a knock. As usual, I respond in a dry and cold tone:
Please don’t enter without knocking, realizing after a moment that she had already knocked, so what I said was stupid and rather dull.
Emunah Golda came to show herself, I heard in response.
My Little One is always welcome, I said in a completely different tone, now softer and warmer, opening the door and embracing My Beautiful Emunah Golda. She brings so much joy, it’s obvious that after Her visit, my mood greatly improved.
Half an hour later, I was downstairs, planning preparations for the family gathering and baking Haman’s ears. Sweet, salty, whatever the soul desires. With white cheese, with salmon, and even some Dubai-style.
It’s also worth noting that a rare Purim situation occurred with such a joyous convergence of dates: Purim began Thursday evening, and its end coincided with the start of Shabbat Friday evening. Mischievous Israelis love to party, so until Shabbat ends, on Saturday evening, revelry and fun continue.
So I had a splendid dinner, soy chicken in a curry and coconut marinade, and now as I’m writing this, Emunah Golda is lying on my chest, and in the background, The Deluge plays, with the transparent white shirt of the young Boguslawski inappropriately enveloping him as he duels. By the way, he must be such a lonely, bored, aging lover today... Time does not spare us.
The continuation of this story (oh, what a lovely feeling to relay it live and write, I haven’t done this since sneaking away with Greek boys from Nini, late summer '23) will follow when I go to bed. For now, I can only summarize the Purim attractions that will meet me and how I plan to dishonour the proud name of my family.
So today there will be a party with the family, although we already had a festive dinner, and I can still taste the sweet grapes in my mouth, but wild dancing and ears await. And still to read the Book of Esther, as it should be done, of course. I have no idea what will happen tonight, but one thing I know, in the morning I must show up at the doctor around 1 pm, my doctor knows me, but I have to give the impression of good manners and keep up appearances, so I’ll try to show up at twenty to one, as agreed. I know that by being late, I’ll ruin his rhythm for the day. But I make appointments every two months for check-ups, and every other time, I come up with some imagined cancer, which this doctor usually dispels in the air, prescribing me some cream for dry skin, a steroid, or suggesting a psychiatrist. You will never catch me, bastards. Over your dead bodies. I didn’t diagnose myself, of course.
Much more interesting experiences await me after the treatment, namely the swamps, the swamps are waiting for me. I’ll put on a hat and change into cowboy attire, grab rubber boots and sticks with Nini, and then we’ll head towards the marshes. Today’s dinner was supposed to have a Venice theme, but since I had a relatively mild breakdown yesterday, I left my red dress hanging on the coat rack. I’ve worn it twice. The first time during one of the best dinners of my life in Tel Aviv (I remember very little from that evening, except that I was running down the street and laughing, and my ex fiancé wasn’t yet decaying, soulless meat). The second time a month ago, when during one night, I beat 13 people at poker, Texas Hold'em. Of course, I cheated. Truth be told, I can’t play, and I don’t understand the rules. I just bluff and lie perfectly. Yes, like they say, third time’s the charm, and you can wear the same clothes three times. Your day hasn’t come yet, dresses, darling.
In the evening, I was invited to Nini’s house for a cowboy party. I can refuse everyone, but not her. Nini is a piece of shit and a very bad person, but that’s why I feel at home with her. I don’t pretend, I don’t care much for her, but she has become a part of the landscape of my life.
So, the night, most likely, will help me, HaShem (I’d say this in a presidential oath if Poles ever elected me to this office), will pass without sleep and with lustful entertainment. I’ve arranged care for Emunah Golda, the child can’t be alone, when the parent is misbehaving.
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