© 2013 Diana

Man Bites Dog – Benoit Poelvoorde (1992)

I’ve just finished ballasting the corpse, see? That means you fill it with certain things because… You may not be aware that a corpse under water swells up with air, see? So it tends to float to the surface. You have to load it with ballast so it sinks. You weight it down with stones and other heavy stuff. There’s a ballast ratio for corpses… Three times body weight for an average adult like this victim. But for children and midgets it’s different. Kids are lighter. So it’s four times body weight. What? Never had problems?

No. Midgets are heavier, so you double the weight. Midgets have denser bones so you double the weight. For old people, multiply by five. Old bones are porous.



– Hi, Mom!

– Goodness gracious! How’s my little boy?


This is Mom, that’s Grandma, this is the store. This is where I grew up.

– Grandpa’s not here?

– He’s out. He’ll be back soon.

– What time is it?

– Guess what…My Grandpa.

– I’ve put up with her now for years! Imagine that. Imagine the effort it took him? Guess who made the effort, me or him? Hats off. I’ve put up with her now for years.

– He was such a cheerful little boy. Full of pranks, and blond as a field of wheat.

– Don’t tease me, Papa. Stop it or I’ll cry! You ruin everything.

– Benoit was such a delight.

– A good boy?

– A darling! He was affectionate and sweet. Laughing all the time, all the time.

– What do you mean, “”he was”? He’s not anymore?

– You don’t understand me, Papa.

– How they bickered! Like cats and dogs!



I usually start the month with a postman. I get up in the morning and spend it pinching pensions. At the same time this allows me to locate old folks with money. What I avoid are young couples. They stink of poverty. It’s unpleasant. But old folks are loaded, that’s for sure! I’ve never seen an old pauper. Stingy? Yes. But paupers? Never.


You watching me… or the kids? They have guns just like me. Not bad at all, these gadgets. Give me one. Go on and play. No school today?

That’s the trouble with women. That’s the trouble with women. Sure I’ve been hurt before. I gave them something, they gave me something. But there comes a time when you start to ask questions. All on account of that little door. In a couple, the door has to stay open. And when it’s open it’s either to bring in new nourishment…or it’s to let you out. Either you add a little seed…and that seed can be a baby, or a good time or a holiday… Or you get out, lock, stock and seed. With women, you can’t always tell if the door’s open and if it’s time to add a seed, or get the hell out. I’ve been hurt because I’d open the door wide, and they’d shut it. Love leaves a trail of sulphur like some lingering smell. As soon as you meet someone, you smell it. Like when you take a leak, your fingers smell. You have to wash them two or three times so you can forget you pissed.

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *


You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>