I'm parked waiting for her. She's late. She's always late. She'll be here. Like I said last time, she never misses an opportunity to jump on this Whoho, buddy. I'm sorry, are we children or adults? Jess often claims the first time we kissed, I let out my venom into her. What am I, a DC comic character? Well, that's bullshit. Yeah. Only because he's actually a Marvel comic character. Jackass. Oh, think I care, audience? I sometimes think it was the other way around. This needs to end pretty soon.
Can't keep doing this. I'm guessing you want to know how this started. I'm guessing you, the audience, want to know our DC origin prologue. Yeah, that's right. I'm sticking with DC. How did this tribulation begin? You wanna know? I reckon I owe you a press conference. We went to Disneyland with our families. What? You have a problem with Disney? Whoa, buddy, we ain't saying that. We all love the Mandalorian. Oh, cool. We're friends again. Bisbom! Boom!
My mom and my two twin brothers, and Jess with her gay dads and her little sister were at the amusement park. A buddy of mine was also meant to be there, so I left my mom to go find him. Bastard never turned up. He got grounded after his mom caught him smoking pot. That's a big deal around my place. If my mom saw me doing that, she'd happily choke me out. Getting an image of her doing that now. Yeah, that's a premonition of hell awaiting you. Now get to the main event, Aiden.
That's why we're all here on the Joanna See the podcast. Dude, nice promo. Just wanted to get some ice cream, so she left her dad's. In fact, she left because she was going to meet Egon. The serpent, the snake who roams this field looking to kill. Bastard who Okay, this is getting annoying fast, isn't it? I'll suspend that mindless nonsense. I went to grab a burger. As I walked to get it, she crashed into me. We landed on the floor together. Ooh, meat cue. That it was, folks. That it was.
While on the floor, I looked up and there she was, looking at me with her fucking ocean blue eyes. Yeah. That's when I knew my life was about to be flung into a crapper. A magical crapper. Damn. Her hair smelled good though. I was hurt. What? A brew's easy. She seemed fine. Yeah, years of her falling to the mat would do that to someone. Okay, that made no sense to us. Let me clear that up. Jess is a martial arts trainer at her dad's gym. She trained the serpent.
The snake who roams okay, you know, we've done this already, heaven wait. Yeah. She trained Egon. The dick. I picked myself up and went to pick her up, but she did a kip-up move to get up, and with a smile on her face, I was lost in her eyes.
Yeah.
That's when I knew I was truly and royally fucked. We started walking together. I say together, she followed. But don't give me all this, this doesn't happen in actual life. It's unrealistic. It's fake. Well my response to that is. What the fuck do you expect from a romance podcast? There are days where I wish I never met her. We all get that when you're stuck in something flimsy. And they call this show the real thing? Pathetic. Yeah. Thanks for that, audience.
There'll be more episodes to prove that title logic. We all get days where we wish we never met someone because the thoughts of them bring out terrible reminders of them. God, you're sad, Aiden. What'd you say to me? Hang on. I am. I don't know why that upset me. I don't actually care. Anger isn't a crowning thought pattern, is it? I need to forget any trains heading towards that and hop on a more sanguine one. Anyhow, I asked her what she was doing running.
She was quiet at first, obviously blown away by my charm. Well, I've I got a feeling there's a tumbleweed rowing right now. That's because we heard one dumbass. Thanks, audience. I coughed at that point to get her attention and then asked her again, why were you running? She snapped out of it and said there was a bee chasing her. I smelled her scent then. Diosador. How the hell did you know that? Well, last Christmas I brought my ex the same scent. Is that story more tragic than this one?
Fuck you! My ex brought me crabs and then dumped me for her high school best friend. She's a herb, by the way. Oh, we got that. But thanks anyway. You're welcome, audience. You know how to choose them, don't you? Anyway, as I mentioned, I went to get my burger, and the stupid thing was she wanted to follow me. I knew instantly this wasn't a good idea. Oh, you know, dumbass. Yeah, thanks. Hope you're not flipping me off. Oh, we fucking are. This motherfucking audience. We pay your bills, dumbass.
Alright, I offer you my apologies. I told her it wasn't a bright idea. She laughed it off and walked with me. We kept glancing at each other. Uh loves in the hair. Okay, boy. I am a terrible singer. You know. Don't do that ever again. It's galling. I want it, Jess. What? I'm a dude. I had hormones. And I'm American. Yeah, we tend to think with our dicks. Language, dude. Yeah. Watch the first episode of this show before you try to pull me up on that PG nonsense. And they call this shit romance?
This isn't really the podcast I was expecting. Well, I've got news for you, audience. There's other content more suited for you on this podcast. It's probably lame, but hey, you'll like it otherwise. Really starting not to like this man. God, he's so annoying. We reached the food truck, and then she asked me if I remembered her. I didn't. She said we were in high school together. What? Were we? I couldn't picture her in my school. So I told her. She gave me a wicked smile, followed by uh a wink.
I peeked a look at her eyes again, greeny blue. Damn, they were majestic. I could just picture her doing. Ooh, yeah, this sounds like every teenage boy's fantasy, the idiotic one. As I was still confused at that point to who she actually was, Jess pointed to her bosoms. As our British cousins say. She said, maybe you don't recognize me because these two round things hadn't been hit by puberty yet. I laughed. She showed me pictures of her high school prom. And I remembered her.
Okay, well not really. I mostly remembered an image of Egon with his hands on her. Seriously? You're believing that when you've said fuck hundreds of times on this podcast? You're a dipshit. I am enjoying pissing you off. Anyway. The image of her and Egon freaked me out. I ordered my burger and went to pay for it, and then remembered I forgot my wallet. She smiled and took out her purse and paid. She said I owed her. There was a mischievous look from her.
She was meaning something more than money. Oh, this story just got more dramatic. Oh, don't worry. That stops from this point forward. We walked for a beat. She kept her attention on me. Come on now, who could blame her? I was literally Brad Pitt. Losing your audience, Aiden. Oh, I'm sorry. Are you not allowed to entertain here on the Joao the Lamo podcast? I knew she liked me, but I also knew it wasn't anything deep. She was attracted to me. I'm gonna do her later. We blong, we blong.
Huh. Huh. Damn. That sounded creepy. I played it cool. Like a suave Michael Blue Blaze serenading his audience at the Staples Corner. Who said that? You did, dickhead. So how many of his concerts have you been to? Okay, that's enough of you, audience. Do you throw your panties at him when he's on stage? Said enough. Do you shout his name in band when you're about to Sorry, audience. Had to shut that down. She asked me what my favorite books were. I laughed.
I didn't want to tell her what they were. Not that I was embarrassed by them. I wasn't. She asked why I was laughing. I told her she didn't want to know what my favorite books were. She looked at me as if she was intrigued. Oh, she was. So she pressed me further. I still wouldn't tell her a thing. So she pressed even more. Until I had enough and told her I liked romance books. Plot twist. Are you surprised? Yeah, by how shit this podcast is. Thanks, audience. Tears were coming out of her eyes.
She kindly told me I was a middle-aged woman. Well, I agreed, hoping she changed the subject. She didn't. Thanks for that. You are, you're a middle-aged woman. I knew this would be her perception of me if I didn't tell her the truth. From this point forward, there will be no more jokes about Joao. He's just threatened to sack me if I say any more. I'd like to respond to that by saying I'm not currently raising my middle finger at him, even though we all know I am. Sorry, buddy!
My grandma used to write them, I told her. She turned serious. No one among my friends knew it. She looked at me as if to urge me to carry on with the story. My grandma. she was in an awful marriage. Her husband, my granddad, didn't love her. He used to abuse her. Anyway, because of her ordeal, she knew she needed to feel loved. So, one day in secret, she started writing romance stories. Oh, this is Aiden, by the way.
I like this story, Joao. I hated you before with a story, but you're winning back my understanding with this. Don't ruin it, jerk. But the more she wrote them, the more courageous she got at it. Anyway, she wrote five secret books. One day, she came home from work to find her husband reading them whilst laughing. He ridiculed her to a point where she started crying. She went to her bedroom, and all night she cried. He didn't console her once. Sorry. I'm a little bit tearful here. I really am.
When she eventually emerged to talk to her husband, she found out he had burnt her entire collection. It was at this moment she realized she had to leave him. Jess asks me if she did. And I told her she did. My grandmother left an hour later. She went to a hotel, wrote six more books, and sent them to a publisher. She liked it and published it. My grandma didn't take a penny from it. All the money she made from the books went to three orphanages.
When I was six, my grandmother would help her grandchildren learn how to read. We had to read three pages of her books before we went to bed. Those moments taught us a lot. We became humans when we would read her books. We continued to read her books. Not the saucy bits. Just the key action points. It taught us so much about love. How to appreciate one another, how to heal. Anyway, my grandmother would later set up a publishing house to channel more funds to her charitable adventures.
At 16 years old, I asked to join her company as an intern. She made me interview for the role three times, and then made me write three love stories. She then made me read it out loud in front of her work colleagues. Anyway, I eventually got the job, and we worked together for two years until she died three months ago. That was the story I told Jess. She didn't laugh. She in fact hugged me. And then quickly pushed me away as Egon and his cronies walked up.
I knew his reputation, so I walked off quick without a word to Jess. Anyway, at school, Jess got a friend of her to get me to give her my number, and we started messaging. Messaging led to us hanging out in secret. And then her inviting me over to her house when her parents weren't in. To her inviting me to watch movies in her bedroom. Then to her kissing me. Then to her and me laying in bed together. And then to us, of course, doing that. Wanna hint? Sexual healing. Sexual healing!
That's my more favorite Marvin Gay song. And that brings you up to speed on how we met. Now I'm parked, waiting for her to arrive. A car pulls up. Jess gets out of the car. She races towards me. She desperately tries to open the car door. Yep, she's in horny mode. I open the door. She enters. She kisses me. She strips. When she's done, she's in her negligé as a promise. I yawn. She slaps my arm as if to say concentrate. I'm focused on her again. And we do the business.
Our love truly is the real thing. The real thing was read by me, Chakri, and written by Joanasita.