Friday, July 16, 2010

Brothers

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At a very young age I became drawn to darkness.  Every Friday night I would wait until I heard the unearthly sounds of my Dad’s body desperately seeking air and like a cursed Egyptian deity I would emerge from my tomb and creep into the living room.  As my parents slept I would spend my nights with a blond hair woman named Rhonda Sheer.  My young body was hungry for dark, devilish things and this woman by feeding me what I craved gave me my first glimpse into the realms of monstrosity.

One Friday night Ms. Sheer shared with me a film that would cause irrevocable harm to my sense of family dynamics.  For the next two hours I was in complete commensalism with the television. Although I sat and did not move, the excitement caused my body to feel as if I had been hurling massive boulders into a body of water.  I had watched for the first time of what would become many, my favorite childhood film, Basket Case.

I was careful to record each episode of Up All Night and I had my VHS copy of Basket Case.  I watched the video so many times that I considered it a miracle every time the tape would still play.  However, what was originally a great source of evil joy, the film slowly started to eat away at me.  Jealously had taken over me and allowed madness in.  I wanted what Duane had, and no matter how many times I asked my parents for a brother my demands went unanswered.


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I stayed up late at night prodding my body for any signs of a possible evil growth, a growth that would ultimately become my own ghoulish brother.  I squeezed my flesh and yelled at my body to give me what I desired.  I was so young back then that I even prayed to God!  I tried everything I could think of that might produce the desired effect.  One night my father caught me smearing meatloaf on body in an attempt to feed the flesh, and when he asked me “what the hell are you doing?”  I told him that I was doing what him and my mother had failed to do and ran to my room screaming.

I was infatuated with the idea of having a ghoul for a brother.  What would he be like?  What would he grow up to become?  Probably a C.H.U.D, I reasoned.  I sat down and drew pictures of us together and created a list of people for him to kill, that’s right, KILL! I have always been evil!  Even at that young age I had it in me to do devilish deeds.  Why else have a brother if he cannot be some form of minion to you!    

The years went by and at some point in time I no longer thought of the sibling my body never bore.  These were childish thoughts that I grew out of and would become locked inside the vault of mind.  Although I no longer believe in such a thing I have kept a tender spot for my brother that never was.   Every year on my birthday I climb up to the attic and on a small plate I leave a slice of birthday cake just in case there is a Belial after all.

 


Tuesday, July 13, 2010

You Dick

One day this guy rode up and stole my girlfriend.  I HATE him.


Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Part Two: Cigarettes and burgers, caffeine and alcohol

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I was in disbelief. I have always despised my neighbors. In fact, I always made an effort to make it from my car to my front door without engaging in any visual or verbal communication. I never imagined, however, that standing there with his knees escaping his ripped jeans like a drowning man's head breaks through the water to gasp for air was my my new neighbor, Dave Mustaine.

I stood there motionless. My brain was regaining itself after a period of complete atrophy and then, just like a vampire he asked me to invite him in. I quickly motioned my hand towards the inside of my home and he lifted his long legs and entered. "I heard some interesting sounds coming from your house last night, evil sounds." I did not respond. How could I? I wasn't even aware of what happened the night before. He slowly sat down on my couch and inquisitively looked around my house. "Hey man, what do you say? Some' cigarettes and burgers, caffeine and alcohol?" I explained to him that I was much to weak to leave the house and walked towards the kitchen.

I returned to the living room with a bottle of mountain dew and a family size bag of Cheetos. He quickly sat up. His eyes widened and he licked his lips. I knew I had chosen well. He reached for the bag like a gollum and when I retracted the bag out of sheer surprise he hissed at me. Naturally, I hissed back and upon seeing the Necronomicon that I wore around my neck he sat back and withdrew his threatening behavior. We sat together in silence, our fingers stained orange and our minds full of thoughts.

Dave suddenly turned his head towards me, biting his lower lip as if trying to keep his words prisoner. His pupils became dilated and his nostrils flared. "What do you mean I don't I dont pay my taxes? Why do you think I'm broke?" I sat there in confusion not knowing what to make of his questions. "What do you mean I can't get to work on time? Got nothing better to do." He then turned his head away from me and we sat in silence once more. It was then that I realized that Dave Mustaine was insane.

He was trapped inside his own lyrics. I should have recognized this sooner when he referenced his song '502' as way to get a bite to eat. We sat there for a while longer before he got up. He nodded his head as he looked around. "I like you, man. You're into some wicked shit!" I looked at him in agreement. "I'll catch you later. Got some magazine interview bullshit." I watched him as he walked down my steps and past my lawn. He was my neighbor and I knew that I would be seeing more of him.