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Some bizarre things that I've experienced
Feb. 27th, 2005 10:39 amWhen I was 4 I nearly died from a nose bleed. My brother Tommy woke up for a pee, and noticed the puddle of blood.
When I was 8, my pal Michael Carmody and I found a dead body floating in the ocean. The lifeguards didn’t believe us until it washed up on shore. We never freaked out.
When I was 9 I wrote an essay “Why I want to be Jewish”. My (Jewish) teacher was so touched she rang Ma. Whom never said a word to me.
When I was 11, someone tried to seel me a handgun while I played pinball. I didn’t think much of it, until years later.
When I was 13 I discovered the proper way to masturbate. My inspiration was Chevy Chase reading “Weekend Update” on Saturday Night Live.
When I was 14, one of my pals killed his sister. With a hammer. The nail-pulling side. He was 13; she was 22 and about to be married. We hardly ever spoke about him again.
When I was 15 I snapped a the lower bar of a set of uneven bars, nearly snapping my neck. I was learning how to do a “penny-drop” dismount to help our inept PE teach teach the girls.
When I was 16 I missed the landing mat whilst pole vaulting, nearly snapping my neck. I repeated the exercise a year later, when it finally occurred to me to give up pole vaulting.
When I was 17 I routinely would have all sorts of sex with many, many men. But if they wanted to fuck me, I agitatedly declined, since that was gay. I wasn’t gay; I just had lots of sex with many, many men.
When I was 18 I was drunk at school at least once a week; sometimes as frequently as daily. No adult ever clued in, even as my grades plummeted (I was president of our branch of the National Honor Society, the Math League, the Academic League).
When I was 8, my pal Michael Carmody and I found a dead body floating in the ocean. The lifeguards didn’t believe us until it washed up on shore. We never freaked out.
When I was 9 I wrote an essay “Why I want to be Jewish”. My (Jewish) teacher was so touched she rang Ma. Whom never said a word to me.
When I was 11, someone tried to seel me a handgun while I played pinball. I didn’t think much of it, until years later.
When I was 13 I discovered the proper way to masturbate. My inspiration was Chevy Chase reading “Weekend Update” on Saturday Night Live.
When I was 14, one of my pals killed his sister. With a hammer. The nail-pulling side. He was 13; she was 22 and about to be married. We hardly ever spoke about him again.
When I was 15 I snapped a the lower bar of a set of uneven bars, nearly snapping my neck. I was learning how to do a “penny-drop” dismount to help our inept PE teach teach the girls.
When I was 16 I missed the landing mat whilst pole vaulting, nearly snapping my neck. I repeated the exercise a year later, when it finally occurred to me to give up pole vaulting.
When I was 17 I routinely would have all sorts of sex with many, many men. But if they wanted to fuck me, I agitatedly declined, since that was gay. I wasn’t gay; I just had lots of sex with many, many men.
When I was 18 I was drunk at school at least once a week; sometimes as frequently as daily. No adult ever clued in, even as my grades plummeted (I was president of our branch of the National Honor Society, the Math League, the Academic League).
