Never Was Cool

Stories. Essays. Stuff.

Remember

world-aids-day

Some were movie stars, but most were just regular people. Either way, they’re dead and they all deserved to be remembered. It is even more important that we, as a world community, make certain that they did not die in vain.

According to the most recently available data from AmfAR (The Foundation for AIDS Research):

  • More than 35 million people now live with HIV/AIDS.
  • 3.3 million of them are under the age of 15.
  • In 2012, an estimated 2.3 million people were newly infected with HIV.
  • 260,000 were under the age of 15.
  • Every day nearly 6,300 people contract HIV—nearly 262 every hour.
  • In 2012, 1.6 million people died from AIDS.
  • 210,000 of them were under the age of 15.
  • Since the beginning of the epidemic, more than 75 million people have contracted HIV and nearly 36 million have died of HIV-related causes.

I remember many of the dead.

My friends never made action movies and they didn’t die in fiery crashes in Porsches and their names didn’t make the international news wires.

The world did not mourn for them.

But they were beautiful and funny and catty and bitchy and smart and talented and creative and gentle and tough and brave.

Today, on World AIDS Day, as see all the pictures of Paul Walker on Facebook and think about how hot and talented a tragically dead movie star was, I ask that you remember how amazing the other 36,000,000 humans were who have died because of AIDS. I ask that you spend just a minute thinking about the contributions they could have made to the world and what a better place it was because they were here and what a better place it could have become had they stayed.

I want you to understand the loss of 36,000,000 souls.  Personally, I’d rather see pictures of them.

 

World AIDS Day

The NAMES Project

The Foundation for AIDS Research

UNAIDS

 

 

Maxine’s Favorite Things

Things for which I am thankful:

  1. Guns and Ammo TV. What says “Happy Thanksgiving” more than watching people shoot stuff?
  2. The North Face. It’s what EVERYONE is wearing this year. Literally. Everyone. Every. One. It is the only brand of outerwear sold in the U.S.A.
  3. Socks.
  4. The Lady In The Kitchen Cooking All The Food. This bitch is hungry.
  5. Booze. Hella thankful for booze. Especially Prosecco and Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum. And Coca-Cola. With which to drink said Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum.
  6. Lee Press-On Nails. Save time AND money!
  7. Art and Pop. But not Artpop. What a turd.
  8. White Friday. I just put this on here for my racist friends.
  9. The Reverend Al Green. No explanation needed.
  10. The Resurrection of Rock and Roll. One can dream, can’t one?
  11. Key West. They have booze.
  12. Gay Marriage In 16 States and the District of Columbia. So, it should happen in Georgia in, like, 2187.
  13. The Mystery of Girls and Anal Sex. Why? It’s not like y’all have a prostate to massage.
  14. Double-Stick Tape. It’s sticky on BOTH SIDES!
  15. One Direction. I can’t WAIT for their reunion tour!
  16. ObamaCare. No one has noticed how bad I’ve screwed up at work in months!
  17. Ashtrays. There should be one on every flat surface in the Universe.
  18. At-Home Perms. Really, what would we do without them?
  19. Feminine Deodorant Spray. It’s Axe, but it’s for girls.
  20. Gay Porn. I watch it for the articles.

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!

Queen of the Flies

I was supposed to be reading my Bible, but I’ve never done what I was supposed to do. Instead, I was reading The Shining, which was hidden in the dust cover for my Bible, and listening as Freddie Mercury asked why we couldn’t find anybody to love us. I wasn’t supposed to have my Walkman with me, either, but I snagged it, along with whatever tape was in it, when I ran back in the house at the last minute to use the bathroom. I was fortunate the tape was “Queen’s Greatest Hits” since it would have to last me an entire week.  It was 1984, and I was on my way to church camp for the first time.

That week in June also marked my first time warehoused with a bunch of other boys (whenever I entertain a prison fantasy, I only have to think back to church camp to determine its origin).  Twenty boys, 50 gallons of Polo cologne, a billion raging hormones, and one overweight, bucktoothed, nearsighted, poorly dressed, nerdy gay kid – church camp was Heaven.

I knew from the moment we arrived that, so long as I got Saved that week and offered my soul to Jesus when they asked all the sinners to come forward, then when I died and got in the express line past the gates, inside would be a plywood cabin in the Ozarks filled with boys that smelled good, wore Izod shirts and had feathered haircuts.

I got Saved on Tuesday. I had to make sure I got that out of the way, in case I fell off a cliff or something. It wasn’t official until I got baptized back in my hometown later that summer. (I had to wear white pants. In a hot tub. With my preacher. In front of God and everybody. Literally. Was I the only person who noticed the faux pas? To this day, I hope so, because that water was very warm.) I think a lot of people were surprised that a 12 year old could have committed so much sin, proving that, contrary to what I often believed, they couldn’t read my mind. They obviously didn’t know about the special sleepovers that had been going on for a year or so or what I thought about every time I saw a cute guy my age or a little older (not too old – like 17 – I mean, that was ANCIENT). But I knew what I’d been thinking and doing, and I knew that I was a very dirty little boy.

Filthy, actually.

I was tickled pink to be surrounded by cute boys. Really cute boys. And they were kinda bad boys, in a Missouri Bootheel/Southern Baptist/14-year-old way. They cussed (I heard one say “hell”) and listened to Ozzy Osbourne – stuff I couldn’t imagine doing. At 12 years old, I wasn’t allowed to say “fart” – I had to say “poot” – and I couldn’t tell someone to shut up, no matter how mean they were.

God was tempting me, just like he had done to Jesus, only I was failing miserably.  Every time one of them glanced at me, I’d start humming “Just As I Am” in an attempt to wash my mind of its sinful thoughts.  And man, were those thoughts sinful. I knew exactly what I wanted to do those boys and what I wanted them to do to me and where I wanted us to do it and how many times I wanted us to do it and which outfits I wanted them to wear while we were doing it. I was even beginning to think about lighting schemes and background music (maybe a little Marvin Gaye – or Duran Duran).

We arrived at camp on Monday afternoon and after we unpacked, everyone just hung around the cabin, waiting for dinner and evening services.  I had been forced to take a top bunk (challenging at the time, considering my low center of gravity), and I lay there, reading and listening to Queen. Really, though, I lusted. Committed a deadly sin. I knew I was going to have to get Saved really soon because if I fell off that cliff, then I was just going to keep falling.

The guys hung out, talked about girls and stuff (yawn), laughed, hit each other (a lot – they seemed to enjoy this), threw things at each other (another favorite pastime), and made fun of each other’s mothers, whom they referred to by their first names (I knew their mothers and also knew that none of them would find this the least bit amusing). They also took great pleasure in farting – I mean pooting – they pooted at each other, they pooted on each other, they pooted with each other and they tried to light each other’s poots. Apparently, poots were very cool.  I stayed in my bunk, listening, watching and trying to hold my breath. I soon become bored and lost myself in my book.

I came back to the world when someone started poking me. It was the oldest of the boys, John (not his real name). He was laughing and so was everyone else. I took off my headphones.

“What?”

“You were singing, man,” he explained.  I suddenly realized I was lost not only in the novel but also in the music and was belting out “Bohemian Rhapsody” and, given the headphones, probably very loudly.

“Was I off-key?” I stammered.

Everyone laughed even harder. I feared that I sounded terrible, not realizing that it was totally uncool to sound anything.

“Do what?” Ray asked.

“I said, was I off-key?” I still didn’t get it.  I was worried about my performance.  I sat up on the bunk and looked down at him.  I looked around at all the other guys and it hit me. I wasn’t fitting in. I wasn’t hitting anyone or throwing anything or talking about girls or pooting at anyone.

Everyone kept laughing. “No, man, you were right on key.” Ray turned to look at everyone else. “What the hell?”

I swallowed and scanned the eyes of everyone. I knew I had to do something. I had to be cool. This one, single time, I had to be cool.

“Then why do you give a fuck?”

I didn’t know where it came from. I had never said “fuck” (or “fart” or “shut up”) before in my life. I didn’t even know what it meant. I had no idea that it was exactly what I had been wanting to do and that “fuck” was, in fact, all I thought about. I heard my dad say it about me once (“What the fuck is wrong with him?”) and my mom almost fainted, so I knew it wasn’t just a bad word, it was a REALLY bad word. It just seemed like the wrong thing to do, so I did it (this has become a life-long philosophy).

Every single eye in the room tried to pop out of its socket, including my own.

“What’d you say?” Ray whispered.

I cleared my throat. “You heard me.” I would not dare repeat it.

Ray cocked his head at me and said, “I guess I don’t give a… care. I guess I don’t care. Queen’s cool.”

I nodded. “Yeah, they are.” I put my headphones back on and went back to my book, silently thanking God for helping me find the right thing to say, even if it was a REALLY bad word.

Even worse than “fart.”

*****

Freddie Mercury died on November 24, 1991, 22 years ago today. Queen’s music has been the soundtrack to my life for 20 years. Today’s entry is just one of those scenes played against a Queen song and is in honor of Freddie.

 

 

 

 

the god

You pig fuckers are never gonna catch me

I dont know why youre wastin your fuckin time I got all day and I got my bike my ninja and if you fat fucks think that your Crown Vics can keep up with me on a ninja then youre even dumber than I thought and thats pretty fuckin dumb Cause Im a ninja On a ninja Nah Fuck that Ninjas are dumb little chink-ass motherfuckers Im faster than that And smarter Im like some kind of fuckin superhero Im like Batman or some shit Wait No Im Superman Yeah Superman Cause Im fuckin invincible Fuck this feels good Oh shit Im goin like 80 in a 25 Im ditchin this helmet at the next stop I wanna feel the wind on my face Besides Im sweatin my fuckin balls off I can feel it runnin down my legs and out my shorts And the backpack aint helpin But those motherfuckers aint gettin my shit and neithers anybody else. Especially fuckin’ Casey. And fuck payin for it Tommy and the rest of the dealers around here can all go fuck themselves I got enough to last me until this shit on my back finishes cookin and then I dont ever have to go beggin to them ever again Look how far back those cop pricks are Cool I can stop and get rid of my helmet and once I get out of town I can really open it up and be free There Thats way better Just me my bike my crystal and a couple of lazy-ass cops Alright Go right at the library Man I used to love to go there as a kid I loved the smell of the place and all the books I loved to read I havent read a book in forever Cant even remember the last one I read Probably somethin with dragons or some shit Fuck I was such a nerd Now a left Theyre startin to catch up Man I gotta get out in the open Right onto Ward and past the school You know what fuck high school and all those assholes Every one of em They never gave a shit about me or anybody except themselves Nobody ever even looked at me except to call me faggot or geek I bet theyre all lookin at me now Do I look like a geek or a faggot now? I bet my sister is seein me fly by with the cops on my ass You gonna tell mom about this? I know you will you little rat bitch You tell her about everything else Its why I cant live at home anymore You told her about the crystal you found when you were snoopin around in my shit Mom wont even talk to me anymore I cant even ask her for any money And now Im crashin at the Route 61 Motel over in Hayti which is a real fuckin shithole I had to get a job workin for Johnny Markum as a fuckin handyman but hes so tweaked out that we hardly ever work Im fuckin livin on ramen thanks to you Fuck you Ashley you little whore. Women are all fuckin whores. Mom Ashley and especially Casey. Christ what a fuckin bitch She thought she was gonna walk out the door with my first batch of shake and bake this mornin but I showed her She wont be walkin out any doors for awhile Thievin fuckin bitch And I loved her man I really loved her but I cant stand that stealin shit especially when it comes to my crystal And just because shes the one that had to make the drug store runs dont mean shit Shes not the one who had to find out how to make the shit and buy all the other stuff. I wanted to kill her. I almost did. I had my hand around her throat and was beating the shit out of her face and then I didnt recognize her anymore. Didnt know who I was hitting. It was just pulp. Maybe she is dead. I think she probably is dead. She wasn’t breathing anymore. I dont know. Fuck it. I dont need her I dont need any of those motherfuckers They can all suck my fuckin dick Goddammit I just wanna get somewhere and smoke up Right on highway u past the cemetery and I can really get after it Lean forward accelerate yeah thats it A hundred and twenty baby and gettin faster Fuck this bike makes my cock feel good Between the hum and all the excitement Im hard as a fuckin rock Wish I could stroke it That would be fuckin awesome The wind the bike the speed and my dick out But shit I gotta lose these fuckin cops first Fuck it Just fuck it I am fucking invincible Im not Superman. I am a god. I am a fucking invincible god. Nobody can hurt me and I want to feel good. I deserve to feel good I am so fucking strong I proved that to Casey this morning I can destroy people I bet I could fly if I wanted to I bet if I thought about it hard enough I could kill those fucking cops behind me. I could kill everyone. I can feel the strength in my fucking veins I can hear my heart The strength is making it beat so hard and so fast. Its fucking amazing. I have never felt this good in my whole fucking life. I wanna go faster I wanna go so fast that I become invisible to regular people who arent strong like me Who dont have the power that I have That cant kill people who try to steal their shit and get away from the cops and destroy fuckers with their mind People are so fucking weak Not me. Not god. And I can feel it I have the cock of a god And my cock riding on this bike is driving me nuts I gotta put it in my hand I gotta see what a gods cock feels like while Im flying I wanna know what it all feels like at once Im gonna lean back a little pop the button start the zipper and

Fuck Im going sideways Im losing it The bikes coming out from under me Shit Im gonna land on my back. The bottle Oh fuck the bottle I’m gonna land on the bottle Fuck Im on fire Im on

 *****

Inspired by the following story and video:

Daily Dunklin Democrat_Meth lab found in suspect’s backpack after pursuit

http://youtu.be/0kq7zj8Kd_Q

*****

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