Foul Bastard™

Ha ha ha! It’s Halloween, October 31st

When Trick or Treaters, Trick or Treat to whet their candy thirst

Twelve year old Ballerinas, children dressed as Ghouls

They knock on my door chanting Trick or Treat, I’ll trick those little fools

Cause Halloween’s my day, or should I say my night

Some Apples and some Razor Blades, I’ll fill them all with fright

Witches with their broomsticks, Devils with their horns

Hey, I’ve got a great idea, Cyanide and Candy Corns

Tootsie Rolls and Push Pins, Licorice Sticks and Lye

I’ll trick them into eating things that make the grown ups cry

Frankensteins and Wolf Men, Vampires and Their Bats

I’ll give them all the good stuff, like Glass in stale Kit Kats

Scarecrows, Ghosts, and Ninjas, Zombies eating brains

I’ll feed them foods that bring their guts all kinds of aches and pains

So check your children’s candy, don’t trust a single drop

Remember this, no one is safe, and I won’t ever stop

Last weekend I went up to a friend’s house in Bakersville North Carolina. It’s a small town in a gorgeous mountain setting and this guy has a great little house and a barn that was converted to house five or six people. I put pics of the trip up on my Flickr, but some of you might want to hear the backstory that those pics don’t tell.

Four of us left on Thursday afternoon. It was me, two other guys, and the 14 year old son of the house’s owner. So, you know, three men and a 14 year old boy. That kid is lucky this wasn’t a Catholic retreat we were going to. Driving out of Bradenton Florida in an F150 with all our stuff packed in the back, we got on I-75 and drove for about an hour before traffic came to a halt due to what I later found out was a truck crossing the median and hitting three cars. We weren’t going anywhere so we exited and went to drink beer and eat cheeseburgers. This one dude was deep-throating his burrito and he caught hell for that. Me and this other guy drank really nasty lime and salt flavored beer, but they were $1 each, so we had a bunch of them. Once we got back on the road the driver decided that he would use his new iPhone to find an alternate route out of Florida. We finally managed to get him to abandon this mission, but only after several horror movie references and some threats of violence.

The drive was mostly uneventful, but there was a moment where we almost got into a political debate and I was just thankful that I could bitch and moan on Twitter as I explained that I wasn’t going to discuss politics with people whose religious beliefs scare the hell out of me. The rest of the way to South Carolina was spent listening to some of the funniest comedy acts I’ve ever heard and Skyping Tatty from my Blackjack II (thank you Skype <3). Yes, I did get all kinds of torment for this behavior, but it wasn’t too bad cause everyone was scared to look and see what I was doing with my free hand.

Eventually I had to say goodbye to the love of my life and take my turn at the wheel. I made a wrong turn in Spartanburg SC when Google Maps told me to go straight 41 feet and there was no option to go straight. It was cool though. I wound up driving through a mostly deserted downtown area at three in the morning making all kinds of broken u-turns and other odd maneuvers. Eventually I figured out the right way and got back on track, but not before almost getting rear ended while trying to take a picture of “The Love Temple.”

By five in the morning we were almost at our destination, maybe an hour of driving left, and I wanted to get out and plug my phone into the free outlet in the back seat so I wouldn’t lose the map and directions. AT&T doesn’t work way out in them there mountains. I pulled into a small gas station that was closed for the night and the guy who had been driving before me got out of the truck and we decided it was cigarette break time. I went around to the driver’s side and when I got back to him he was talking to two girls who couldn’t have been older than 14. Way to go. Five in the morning at a closed gas station in the middle of some country town talking to underage girls whose faces showed signs of meth habits and unprotected blowjobs. They were barefoot and one of ‘em might have been pregnant - the one who chainsmoked and kept spitting; I think she was chewing dip too- the other one probably needed a doctor to diagnose her with early emphysema cause I swear she was about to spit out a fucking lung. These girls told us that some strange man had knocked on their door and they let him in and now he refused to leave. The spitting girl said she had a knife and that she was gonna cut him up good if he hurt her daddy. They said they had called the police and asked if they could wait with us until they arrived. Now as ridiculous as this story was, I kind of wanted to see if they really had called the cops, or if a gang of hillbillies was gonna come down and carjack us, maybe drive off with our 14 year old passenger and maybe even leave us all dead and sperm soaked in the gas station dumpster. The guy in the truck with all the guns would have prolly been able to handle that situation, so I wasn’t too concerned. I finished my cigarette and the cops had not arrived so we offered to call them but the girls declined. So I gave them a lecture about letting strangers into their house, and about talking to strangers at scary gas stations in the middle of the night. We got back in the truck, and they went back to their house. Probably to tell Billy-Bob, Clyde, and Remus that they weren’t able to lure us into the house for the mountain style ass-rape and armed robbery party. The rest of the drive was spent arguing about what the cops would have done had they arrived at that gas station. My money is still on they would have thanked us and let us go, but I mostly have great personal experiences with the police. I know, you wouldn’t think that, but it’s absolutely true.

The other guy who was outside the truck with me got tormented for trying to pick up 14 year old girls, and I got tormented for scaring them with my standard psychopath glare. Ultimately this would all come to a head when my smoking partner got the honor of my weiner in his mouth while he was passed out on the sofa. Okay, it is a hot dog I am talking about here, and while it would be funny to put the pics on Flickr, I’m just not that mean to my friends. The other guy who took pics… not so kind, so they are out there somewhere. lol.

With no sleep for 24 hours I was not all that excited about rock climbing. It was raining and foggy and I wasn’t prepared for that kind of weather at all. But I made the best of it. I talked to Tatty as much as possible whenever I got a data signal and that kept me feeling happy and thankful for the great things in my life.

Rock climbing turned out to be awesome. I was scared the first time, but after that I started to enjoy the feeling of being on a cliff in funky shoes, feeling for foot and hand holds. The instructors were great and everyone had a fantastic time. We were soaked, our gear was soaked, and lunch was a soggy mess, but we all loved every minute of it. Probably the most interesting moment came when everyone got into their rock climbing harness and we quickly realized that those things pulled our pants in such a way that it was instantly apparent who had the biggest cock in the group. And hats off to you fella, that’s some package you got there!

We climbed for about 6 hours and then packed up and went to eat. Thank goodness for Walmart cause we stopped off there to buy dry clothes before hitting the restaurant. My battery died while I was on the cliff so I was totally bummed that I couldn’t talk to Tatty. Fuck, I need that girl so bad, it’s like when she’s not around I can’t even think straight. We went home after the restaurant and of course drinking ensued. At that point I was drunk and approaching 48 hours without sleep, so I called it a night and went up to the barn, looked up at the stars, missed my girl and wished she were there seeing them with me, and then almost passed out in some bushes. Luckily I made it to bed and cuddled with a shotgun all night long.

Now, when I say all night long, I mean the part of the night that lasts between 4:00am and 6:00am cause by that time I was up and ready to go caving. Plus I was fucking starving and looked forward to a nice big plate of cholesterol and salt, oh, and coffee. Eventually everyone got up and after playing with some bottle rockets I walked back down to the house to see who was going for breakfast.

With our bellies full we decided that before caving we should go up in the hills behind the barn and shoot at some stuff. Mostly clay targets, but who can resist stacking objects on top of other objects and then shooting them off. I got a great pic of myself aiming my shotgun while my friend’s handgun was stuffed down my pants. And I’ll let you in on a secret here that I didn’t mention on Flickr where the pic is hosted. Neither of the guns were loaded at the time. I am totally not taking any chances with the tools I’ll one day need to knock up my hot Scandinavian girlfriend.

With several boxes of ammo gone we decided it was time to go caving. This was the part I had most been looking forward to. I had been to Worley’s Cave in Tennessee twice and now we were going to find the way to the back of the cave and sign the guest book. The first time I went caving we got totally lost and took hours trying to find our way out. It freaked me out to be lost in a cave, but there was no real danger at any time and it is an experience that I look back on with the kind of fondness only a true masochist can understand.

We arrived at the cave and I was annoyed that four other people arrived at the exact same time. They went into the cave before us and I assumed they were going to go in, look around and come back out. Well, it turned out that when we got totally discouraged by the difficulty of finding our way to the end of the cave these four cavers came out of nowhere and pointed us in the direction they had come from. And yes, they had already been to the end and back. So much for hating on those fine folks. I love you, even though you look like environmentalist wackos. I do think they looked down on me cause I was wearing a bicycle helmet. But hey, that helmet was cheap and I have thanked it about 50 times now for saving my head. Maybe I am just cave-clumsy, but when they build those caves they should really think about putting the ceilings up a bit higher. Fucking union workers!

We didn’t make it all the way to the back, but we got to a place called Epper’s Ledge which is exactly where we wanted to, at least, get to on that trip. We were proud of ourselves and so we headed back, knowing that a fourth trip to Worley’s lies somewhere down the road ahead.

Caving is awesome! I love it! Oh, and did I mention that I only wanted to go caving the first time because I was inspired after watching The Descent and getting totally claustrophobic just watching that tight, wiggle-through-the-tunnel shit? Well, that is what inserted the caving bug in my ass and this trip finally found me crawling through a hole that I have dubbed, The Earth’s Vagina! The first time I went caving I was scared to do it, totally chickened out when I saw how tight the crawl was. It’s not really that tight, on the way to the back there are some tighter spots, but I’d have never made it if I didn’t conquer my fear on that vaginal canal of doom. Before going into the cave I promised Tatty that I was going to do that crawl for her. And when I was about to chicken out again I thought of that promise, and fuck-damn, I made it in and out like a champ. I actually hung out alone in the room that the tunnel led to and turned off my light for a minute or two. Just enjoying victory in the darkness. Then I farted and decided I should get the fuck out of there.

The day was awesome! And you know that after such an awesome day there were only two things I wanted to do. The first was to make a ridiculously expensive phone call to Norway, and the second was to drink and smoke cigars all night. On both counts I can safely say, Mission Accomplished!!! There was a drinking contest that I didn’t get into that night, but it led to the aforementioned pic of my friend with a hot dog stuffed in his mouth, and it led to watching a girl down a bottle of wine in one shot. Okay, that’s something I will never even attempt to do. My stomach still hurts just from seeing that.

It was sad to leave, but again, I knew I was on my way back to the land of broadband internet, and Skype, and late nights of telling my sweetie, who missed me like crazy, that I can’t wait to be with her again. The drive home was just me and one of the guys I drove up with. We acted like asshats the whole way, dancing, making obnoxious gestures, and throwing feces at passing cars. Okay, not really, but there certainly was singing and dancing. This guy doesn’t even know that while it was my turn to drive home I fell asleep somewhere around Disney World. Ha ha, I almost killed you dude!

I made it home at around 3:00am and found my sweetie waiting up for me. Wow, coming back to see her was incredible! I can’t wait to do that for real, to hug her and kiss her and know that I’m home. I don’t remember falling asleep that night, but I know that whenever it happened she was there watching me, and counting the days until we are together again. The weekend was great, and I had an awesome time, but nothing compares to being back with my baby. She is truly my favorite adventure. xo

Foul Bastard

It’s the title of a short story by Stephen King, Sometimes They Come Back. That story is about ghosts, and this post is about the living, but when given enough time and distance, even the living tend to become no more than ghosts.

It was around 1994 I guess. In January or February of that year I was living with my mom. She was a crazy woman who will certainly never be the subject of a blog post called, I Miss You, or any other title resembling a form of affection. She hadn’t been paying the bills and the landlord finally got her evicted after a vicous court battle. It seems that woman had several court battles and they were all aptly described as vicious.

So there I was, on my own, scared, and not really able to take care of myself. In spite of many experiences that gave me some great stories to tell, and growing up in New York City, I had still led a relatively sheltered life. Mom had a lot to do with that. She knew how to keep me dependant on her, it was her mission, her devotion. In fact, had outside circumstances not taken control of the situation I am sure she would have continued her tyrany for a good many years forward. But fate caused us to become seperated, and fate often knows what it is doing, even when we don’t.

I got rescued from that situation by a girl, and I’ll forever be grateful for that. It didn’t work out, but still, she got me out of mommy’s stranglehold and in the process taught me a few things about living. At that time I just completely moved on from my old life. I started over. I lost contact with everyone else I knew at the time. I wanted and needed a new life, a better life, without the shadow of that crazy bitch lurking in every corner. Okay, maybe I didn’t handle it well, but at least I was finally free.

I’d like to believe that everyone I lost touch with understood why I ran away, but I know people better than to expect that kind of understanding. Truth is, some people at least, were hurt by what I did. And though I wouldn’t change my life at all — it led me here after all, and I am delighted by where here is — I do think that it is about time for some appologies.

I’ve searched the internet for all of you countless times. Some of you I have found, and thought about contacting, only to decide that it is better if I left you alone. Others I had no luck finding, but still wish well and hope the best for. To all of you, I am sorry for the way I left. To the ones I later ran into and avoided, I am sorry for that too. You knew that woman, and though you thought I got through my experience with her okay, I had not. You deserved more from me, but I didn’t have it to give at the time. I am truly sorry for any hurt I have caused you my friends. When I think back on past memories I understand what I lost way back then. And as I have grown and developed self-esteem, confidence, and personal fulfillment I have come to understand what you lost as well.

And so, now here I am, many years later, living an imperfect but glorious life. I am on the internet, trying to do my part in the creation of art as best I know how. And while my identity is somewhat anonymous, I know that for anyone who wishes to find me it is certainly no difficult task. In the back of my mind I have always had a nagging suspicion that one day someone from my past would find me. Maybe lots of people have already found me, as I have found them. We hide in the shadows, checking in on one another from time to time; ghosts from the past, not wanting to disturb the present living, send chills up their spines. There is nothing wrong with that, and it may very well be for the best, but if that is the case then I want to say to them: you are not forgotten.

Foul Bastard

Until yesterday I had a secret that I shared with this girl I met on Twitter. It started way back when I made a photo-collage of breast photos and got temporarily banned from my Twitter account. Actually, it started before that, when we tweeted lyrics to a Jewel song at each other and somehow it just felt right. But when I got banned a lot of people helped me out and this girl made a video demanding that I be freed. Well, yeah, that certainly got my attention and though I knew that our relationship couldn’t work out because of distance and this other relationship I was already in I still felt it, the seeds of love.

We were both careful, paranoid even, of letting our emotions get carried away. She had good reason to avoid getting attached to me, and I had no right to chase after her, but damn, there was magic there and I couldn’t get her out of my head no matter how hard I tried. We remained friends for a while, chatting here and there, talking on Twitter, me daydreaming about hopping on a plane and showing up at her front door. You know, the usual stuff that gets in your head when you have a crush. Months went by and the relationship that I was in gradually worked into its final days. I had hinted at it a few times, hell it wasn’t a secret to anyone in my gchat window that I wasn’t happy, but it was complicated and I had to take that time to get the whole process worked out.

A few months went by and finally I did it, I ended the relationship and was ready to move on. I was going to do the usual thing, take time to find myself, fall into a series of bad relationships that ultimately destroyed my soul and left me with liver damage and STDs, and get used to being by myself with just me to take care of. And then one day, shortly after I made this decision, something just happened. This girl just became a full on fucking obsession. So I did the only thing I know how to do when I have an obsession… indulge the damned thing and see where it takes me. Well it turns out I’m pretty smart, cause that obsession I chased after became the love of my life.

I’ll skip all the prior details, you can imagine those yourself, but I chased her, and eventually I got my wish and she got hers. I hopped on a plane to Norway with nothing but hopes and realistic expectations. I mean, look, I’m travelling to see some chick I met online. The odds that we would find out we were soulmates were pretty thin. So yeah, I was being skeptical but I knew I wanted to meet her. My flight was delayed, bad weather, and her phone was missing, OMG! So instead of meeting me at the airport she relied on the fact that I’m me, and I’d know how to get to her house. And yes, I’m that fucking good.

So there I was, in Norway, with a dead cell phone battery and her address in a file on what was now a useless little brick. See, I never even thought to buy an adapter for the country I was going to, and so I wound up buying an adapter for what I thought was probably not much money at the time and later learned was close to $80. Wow, already I was getting robbed by the locals.

I got the phone working, got the address, found the bus I needed to take, and got the whole foreign currency thing figured out. Cool, I was on my way to her house. Yay! And I got to my destination with no problem. Well, that is if you consider my destination to be a bus stop in the middle of fucking nowhere. Finding a store, I used my best American abroad sensibilities to convince a kind lady that I was completely lost and get excellent directions to the wrong location.

Back at the store, after a brief walk down a lovely street, I got the lady to let me plug in my phone and try to call this girl I had just travelled 18 hours to see. Yes, by this time I was thinking it was all an elaborate joke that would surely be tweeted about for weeks to come. Ring ring ring… yeah, no answer. If only I’d checked my DMs I’d know she didn’t know wher her phone was. Did I mention that I am very comfortable with chaos. Well, I am, and it paid off when the lady at the store got some really nice guy to offer me a ride to where he thought I needed to go. The whole time I was sure he was actually driving me to the place where they sell Americans into the international sex-slave trade, but you know, at least it’s an experience.

“That’s it! I just saw the house.” The nice man with the truck asked if I was sure and I said, “yeah, I remember it from when I stalked her on Google Earth.” I don’t think her got the joke, either that or he realized I was serious, but he gave me a funny look, turned around and drove up the driveway. I checked the house number. Fuck yes! I had made it! After thanking this nice fellow he drove away, and there in the driveway was one fucked up, smashed to pieces cell phone. Oddly it still works, but I never thought it could have survived such horror.

I rang the doorbell, she opened the door, and I hugged her. Okay, this is the part where I tell you that in an instant everything in my life came to a standstill, that it was only us, and that it was perfect. This is also the part where I leave the rest of the details to your imagination and just say that it was the most amazing, romantic, unbelievably perfect time I have ever spent with another human being. Hell, I wasn’t even all that allergic to the cats and I don’t know how that is possible. Perfection is the only word that can describe our time together. Effortless perfection.

Coming home was pure misery. Yes, I cried on the plane, and yes I was fortunate enough to have my row to myself, and yes the nice German flight attendant got me kinda drunk for free (thanks dude!). But I got back to Florida with a whole the size of Texas in my heart and there was no way in the world I was letting this girl go.

So now here I am, explaining this all to you cause I just gotta tell everyone who will listen. She’s amazing, perfect, real, did I mention amazingly perfect? And she’s watching me type this right now without asking a single question about what I am typing. Any writer will agree, that’s an awesome quality in itself. So here’s the thing. I would have written this sooner but I thought she didn’t want make a big deal out of us being in love, I mean, not online. And the funny thing is, she thought the same thing about me. It’s my fault cause I said we didn’t need to talk about it and it should just be our thing, but I only said that cause I thought she wanted it that way. Okay, yeah, I’m THAT guy. But last night we were talking and we realized that we were both holding it in cause we thought that was what the other wanted. And when we realized that, well, sorry to everyone who is sick of hearing about it by now.

And now I finally I have my first real blog post for the new blog. I couldn’t imagine a better first post than to tell you about the love of my life, my soulmate, the girl who I couldn’t get out of my head, chased after like I was on a mission handed down from God atop the mountain, and whose heart I ultimately won. Her name is @tatty on Twitter, and she is the girl of my dreams, only for real. I love you baby.

Foul Bastard