Sunday, January 30, 2005

flashback: seventh grade

[i feel the shivers sliding up the spine sleep, bad vibes, paranoia, and lack of sunshine can do strange things to the mind. for me, i got shot out of the cannon and back to seventh grade…]


when i was in seventh grade, i used to leave class early before lunch and meet this girl behind the school building. there was an old stairway out back that led to a basement door that probably hadn’t been used in centuries…the bottom was littered with leaves and old bottles, but we never went down that far. we would just sit on the steps about half way down and stare at each other.

anyway, this one day, ivy darkened the stairwell with his bulbous head. he had an uncanny resemblance to that singer from grim reaper…and if that point-of-reference is too far out for ya, think hideous and swine-like. the girl who sat next to me all the time took off running and left me face to stomach with ivy.

“what’s up,” i said.

“you’re gonna get in trouble,” he replied.


“you’re out here too early. you’re gonna get in trouble.”

“where did that girl go?” i inquired

“i don’t know. back in the school,” he said.

“fuck,” was all i could muster.

i sat for a minute or two, contemplating my escape before i turned around again. he was staring down at me over his porcine nose…his nostrils flaring, blackened, huge like fifty cent pieces or something. i squinted at the sow and felt the fear coming on.

“where’s wayward?” he said.

“no one calls him that, ivy,” i said, “he’s the doktor.”

“whatever…what are you doing? you waiting for him?”

“what the fuck do you care for,” i said under my breath. i had decided to turn quickly and shoulder the fuckin’ pig right in his stomach, knock him to the ground, and stomp on his throat as i ran back into the building to try to catch that girl. i turned and scowled in the january sun.

the doktor appeared along side the pigman and ignored its presence.

“st. clair…check it out…i got some of my grandfather’s eye medicine,” he said and unfurled his hand, revealing two joints.

“how do you guys like leaving when the bell rings,” the pigman said with a snort.

the doktor, suddenly aware of what was in his presence, turned to his right and recoiled in horror before he composed himself and tucked the joints securely into his coat pocket. “hey, ivy, p-i-g…s-u-c-k-i-n-g,” the doktor sang and gave her a big ol’ cheesy smile.

“what?” i said.

i knew full well what the pigman was talking about. our teacher used to let us leave five or ten minutes before the end of class so we could get a jump on the lunch line…but some shit must have come down from the principal…two days prior, our teacher told us that the sanctioned early releases would stop, and if we still wanted to leave early, we would do so at our own risk. we still left early, but that’s entirely beside the point…

“yeah…how do you know about that,” the doktor said.

“i think that it’s only fair,” the pigman said.

“what the fuck does that mean,” i wondered.

“it means,” the pigfucker snorted “that if we have to stay in class until the bell rings, then you should too.”

i was completely bewildered. “you told your teacher on our teacher?”

“it’s not about telling…it’s about what’s fair,” the pig said.

“so you fuckin’ told?” i said.

“it’s just about what’s fair. we both go to the same school…” the pig said.

“why would you do that? i mean, why would you sell us out to the man? we’re really all in this together…there’s no fucking unity around here..” i said.

“why should we have to wait while you guys are out on the playground…” the pig began but would soon be interrupted. the doktor, strangely quiet through the traitorous revelation and ensuing conversation, suddenly turned and began to choke the pig, pushing him to the ground, then jumping on its bloated stomach, bouncing around like some kind of obscene monkey on a fat trampoline. he was cussing and mumbling like ralphie in a christmas story.

i let it go on for a moment…because, jesus fuck, was it funny. i lit up a smoke and told the doktor i had beer. he immediately loosened his grip and jumped up.

“how did you sneak beer out of your house?” he wondered, “gimme one.”

i didn’t have any beer, but i knew it would get the doktor’s attention and save him from a murder rap.

“i can’t believe you would do that to a girl, you fucking faggot,” the pigman said.

the doktor and i turned towards the heaping, stinking mass writhing around on the blacktop playground, trying to get some leverage and get back on its feet.

“what did you say?” the doktor inquired.

“fuck you,” it sneered.

“you’re a girl? no way…” you must understand, i was incredulous. while god most certainly has a sense of humor with his creations in the animal kingdom [check the platypus], to create a beast so vile and hideous and name it woman was impossible.

“i am…” it said as it got back up on its pig feet.

“prove it you swine,” the doktor intoned, and ran behind it and hiked its jeans up, grabbing the belt loops of its pants and pulling up with all of his sick and twisted might.

i stood mouth agape, disbelieving what my eyes were telling me. when the pants would rise no further, the doktor rounded the beast and stood next to me. we both starred at the monstrosity. the doktor’s pulling and tugging had produced the most horrible moose-knuckle in the history of recorded time. the pig thing’s camel toe was in plain view for all to see.

“i…i…i’m sorry,” i managed, and tried to comfort the beast in its hour of revelation and humiliation, but all it did was snort and gnash its horrible teeth at me. “well, fuck you too then,” i said and walked away.

“come on, man…you still have that eye medicine?”

“you know, all of this would have been a whole lot cooler if you really had that beer.”


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ahhh. Good times. I remember it like it was Friday. I've always thought of piggie as a slunt myself, but thats besides the point. The important thing is, and what I learned from that incident is this: It doesn't matter if I can stop the red-hot poker from driving up my own asshole. I don't care that I'm essentially fucking myself... just as long as someone is getting fucked with me. Ya know, you were right J.Wad, I can kiss that 2:00 booty call good bye, cuz you know how sexy her man folds are, how smart it is, how its making $70-$90,000 and how much trouble I have finding women who are blind-enough or dumb-enough to take a passing interest in me. DAMNIT! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOW!? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? AHHHHHHHHHHHH! LIFE IS TERRIBLE!

10:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

suck my smells

~ johnny allin

11:42 PM  

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