I don’t want to read your shitty, nu-metal song lyrics on your facebook status

Hahaha remember the time you thought you were gay, but weren’t?  I do.  It was my senior year of high school and beach week.  I rode down in a car full of dudes who thought “fun” was marinated in a fart coated room on a Friday night playing video games.  Some of us had drunk a beer or fumbled with a bra strap but at the end of the day we had no idea what to do with the guy passed out between our legs.  Beach Week- we weren’t fucking idiots; we had MTV, we knew some girl somewhere was probably, maybe topless.  So after a few nights of drinking under random piers, I finally get the girl I’ve always had a crush on alone, on the back patio of a house.  The moon was full and the wind was all around us, and I didn’t know it at the time, but we were slowly moving closer to each other.  She was smiling and I was grinning, and our hands touched.  Jackpot.  Suddenly a kid burst through the backyard gates and screamed “COPS!!!!” and we both ran…cut off, for the rest of the night…mayhap forever.  You see, I later found out she played naked in the waves with a kid who looked like the kind of guy who collects stolen panties.

That whole week showed me I was pretty good at hanging out with guys.  I get how they think, how they move but I definitely couldn’t see my penis inside them, so I stopped thinking I was gay.  You see, back then I equated sexuality with the physical, and I know now that was wrong.  Women didn’t bang Fred Durst because of his looks; they banged him because they absolutely hate themselves.  Sexuality was proportional mental instability- and it took me to my mid twenties to finally figure that shit out.   So what did I do with that dangerous, earth shattering information?  I decided to get back into comic books and move into an apartment with a guy who’s legally blind in Maryland.  Fuck.

~ by leatherjacobs on January 6, 2010.