22 August 05
Pamela Anderson & Ogre
Today, during rec, Ogre stopped by and told Long Island about his friendship with Pamela Anderson.
“So you knew Pamela Anderson? You guys were tight, huh?” Long Island said in a sarcastic tone.
“Yeah, I did. My buddy was an installer for Culligan Water who Pam contacted to put a
soft-water system in. I helped him put it in.”
“Her house on Mulholland Drive.”
“You’re full o’ shit. Describe the house then?”
“It was a bad-ass house with pillars outside the front door and inside. There was China everywhere. There was big China vases, and a white marble floor. The rest of the house had white carpet – throughout the house. She had a big-screen TV.”
“When was this?
“Almost ten years ago.”
“I think I saw that house on the news when the kid drowned. What did the backyard look like?”
“It was tropical, with palm trees around the pool.”
“So what happened? You guys put her soft-water system in and then what?”
“She invited us back to kick it and party.”
“So you guys got high?”
“I didn’t. This is back when I still had morals. I hated slammers back then.”
“Slammers, are you sayin’ that Pam was slammin'?”
“Yeah. That’s how she got hepatitis C – from slammin’ dope.”
“What drugs was she into?”
“Heroin and coke.”
“How do you know this?”
“That’s what she did. She shot up while I was there. One time she came out of the bedroom, stumbling and almost nodding out. She threw up in the bathroom.”
“How many times did you visit Pam?”
“Quite a few. She knows me by name.”
“How come you stopped going over there?”
“My wife stopped me. I’d just got married. She didn’t want me hangin’ out with the fine women over there.”
“So your wife was wearing the pants?”
“Yeah. I even took her to Pam's once, but only the maid was there.”
“What did the maid look like?”
“She was Mexican. She didn’t speak much English. She said, ‘No home! No home!’”
“Huh. Somehow, this is believable,” Long Island said.
“Believe what you want. It’s true,” Ogre replied.
email firstname.lastname@example.org with comments or post them below
Copyright © 2004-2005 Shaun P. Attwood