vikingmetaler

Yeah... I robbed and abused my mother. WHAT OF IT?

...and a phlegmy, thick, wet sounding, graveyard cough when she laughs at your honestly non-sarcastic or judgemental in anyway, strictly to be taken at face value, question regarding "any special skills and or trades or vocations" and spends the next ten minutes or so clearing and re-clearing her obviously compromised air passages and sipping from the little cone shaped cup you feverishly filled and all but sprinted back with from the water cooler down the hall to just please make the gawd-awful deathbed sounds somehow stop, finally, all together....

No more Trixee? Geesh.

Oh I see Pandora's met Drew.

They're full of shit.

I ride my bicycle at least twice a day. (For it is my mode of transportation.)

I used to walk the same distance I ride.

I get to my destination much faster now.


Everyone on the internet is emotionally damaged.

But then most people are emotionally damaned as is, so that isn't saying much.

You see, this one time, me and Jax and his friend Shine went camping. Which was fine and harmless and all but this time, this particular time, Shine brought this other guy, this cousin or relative of some kind. And you know what? The guy was really creepy. In a way, he was really, really creepy. And I tried to make myself feel better by attempting to explain this to my parents. I thought I would give it a shot as they say. Shines cousin or whatever he was, a neighbor or somethingIm really not sure at all honestly, always seemed to be around me; when I was crouched down in the tent changing my underwear or showering or on the toilet in the door less stalls of the bathhouse. I once even caught him looking at me when I was bending over at the water pump out by the road. You had to crank this pump to get water and then bend over to pick up the bucket or pail or whatever. When I bent over and looked behind me, he was there, a little ways off, just looking at me. He would also, like I think I mentioned, peek in my tent when I was changingmy underwear, my t-shirt. One time, all I had on was white tube socks with two red stripes on each sock. If I had to go number 2 in the outhouse, not all the way up at the bathhouse, but at the much closer outhouse, I would be finished, open the door, and he would be just kind of wandering around, right there, right outside the door. The trip was only for like 5 days but every time I turned around he was right there. Too many times to mention, honestly. And if you really want to know truth, it was never when we were ALL cutting wood or ALL gathering kindling or ALL sitting around opening a can of Spaghetti-Os. Nope. It most certainly wasnt. It would always be when I was showering or bending over or changing or something by myself. It really wierded me out. I was honestly freaked out by it.
So you can imagine the train wreck when I tried to present all of this in a positive light to my parents one night at the dinner table. You can just imagine. I stammered my way pathetically into such a corner; I really think I had my dad believing I was a homo. As far as he was concerned at that point, I was a flaming homosexual who went away with three other queers as he would say and had wild, unbridled, anal intercourse for five days. And the more I realized this and saw their faces awash with a strange horror, the deeper and the more damage I did. I just continued to try to explain it further and clarify and imply and oh, it just got worse and worse. I know I probably shouldnt have mentioned early on in the discussion that the guy was muscular and I know I definitely shouldnt have even fucking attempted, in any way whatsoever, to explain what happened and what I saw when the guy finally, after much high-pitched pleading and begging, turned the lights back on so I could just find the fucking toilet paper in the bathhouse very late one night. I know I shouldnt have even hinted at bringing THAT up, but all I went into it for in the first place was for my mom or even my dad to say, Dont worry about it. I would have even taken, Thats nothing. I just wouldnt go camping with Shawns friend ever, ever again no matter what. I would have taken that. I would have. But all that happened is that I had my dad thinking I was a practicing homosexual and going out on these kind of gay camping trips with all my gay friends.
And I swear for a while after that, an extremely long while it seemed, my dad would get all funny when my mother would announce that some boy was on the phone or observe that all boys were in the car when Sinces brother or someone came to pick me up. And I even swear, and more or less know for a fact, that the couple of times I walked by my parents room and my dad was caught off-guard and was changing or something, he would look all panicky and quickly close the door or duck around the corner. I swear he was all nervous around me after I had tried to explain how Sinces friend had freaked me out. Maybe not but I swear it. Let alone the looks my mother gave me. Let alone that.
So you think I would have realized that some things cant be explained, or shouldnt even be attempted to be. They shouldnt. You should just let them drop as quickly as possible and move on like nothing happened. I did learn though, I guess, because by the third or fourth time I tried to tell Jax the haircut story and all he said was something like, What? You told them what? Why do you get your haircut there? Or when he couldnt stop laughing or worse still asked me if any girls were there, I know I should just clam up and move on. And direct things as quickly as I could, with no hesitation whatsoever, back to Mr. Walker. But man, as I stared out at this strangely lovable fat fuck of a prick, I had the haircut thing and now that camping scenario with Sinces friend rattling around my mental hallways, like 2 unwelcome janitors, both with mop and pail.

All you can do is move further south down the coast....

[Edited on May 17, 2005 1:48PM]

Awww..I'm feeling you..I can't believe I met you here, where I have never really connected with anyone else here..or even online for that matter. Move to Canada..maybe Montreal?

hey I just read your dating profile for the first time....jeesh does it always HAVE to be all about ME?!?!??! LOL

You can make calls with just one finger *Acrylic camo box produces realistic yelps and clucks with just a push of the spring tension rod *The contoured underside allows the yelper to fit against the gun barrel where it can be secured by a Velcro strap

[Edited on May 11, 2005 11:17AM]

The trick is to pay no attention to what they say. Women shouldn't publically express thoughts/feelings/ etc.


DOH!


Sorry.

And what's more, it all seems to harken back to the Flags and Emblems Act of the former Northern Ireland Parliament. This was a law which outlawed all public expression of Irish nationalism --- the (public) singing of certain songs, the display of the Irish flag and certain other symbols or emblems deemed to be republican or nationalist. It was a feature of life in Belfast and Derry in the 60's and a great focus of resentment in the nationalist community. The parallels are intuitively obvious and all but scream, in true "you-do-the-math" fashion, that, yes, once again, it all comes down to entities. . To me, anyway.


[Edited on Apr 21, 2005 1:14PM]

I think I've missed alot here.. aww

...

[Edited on Apr 21, 2005 3:18PM]

[Edited on Apr 23, 2005 10:28AM]

Oh and , yes, the back piece is arresting.