“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard: May 28, 2006

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Ugh.

So I went to my appointments in Morgantown.

The Good is that they like the progress I'm making in losing weight. 35 lbs so far. The Bad is that they want me to lose between 50 and 75 more before they'll schedule surgery.

And they want me to do it in the next two months.

Yeah, two months.

I tried explaining to them that if they could fix the huge fucking hole in my stomach it'd be a whole hell of a lot easier to exerscise and shit and thereby lose weight, but the doctor keeps giving me bullshit about "The more you weigh the greater chance of you re-opening the hernia and each time it's fixed it becomes harder to fix again, yadda-fucking-yadda".

So I'm waiting another goddamn two months. That'll bring the total to 55 or so.

55 goddamn months.

Oh well, it's not like I was really doing anything anyhow...

So I have things to write about and excuses to give as to why TerriblyWrongOnline.com hasn't been updated yet, but due to the unseasonable temperatures, my current sleep-deprived state, and a killer goddamn headache (probably from all the sun I've been getting) it'll have to wait.

I will however regail you with a story I related to some of my friends the other night which they seemed to enjoy. Just a random sampling from my younger, healthier days.

In high school I had a friend, Richard M, who lived with his grandparents on a local religious campground kinda place. They rented it out for revivals and stuff. There were several out-buildings and bunk houses and stuff. Anyways, we decided to all have a big party out there one weekend, so 10 or 12 teenage boys dragged video games, and junk food, and booze and porn out to the Singing Hills revival compound.

I think it was a three day weekend in the fall. I know it was more than two nights in any event, but we had been there watching porn for quite a while. At this point it becomes necessary to point out to my younger readres that back in 1987 there was no internet to speak of, and what little internet existed was a long fucking way from West Virginia. If you wanted to watch porn when you were too young to rent your own you had to watch it in a room full of other horny teenage guys.

Is it wrong that I masturbated twice as much and twice as hard because I was in a hloy place?

This might explain the Vatican incident...

Anyways, days of porn, people constantly going off to masturbate like circus monkeys (I know it wasn't just me) and Blake has a funny idea.

I've never mentioned Blake before. Blake is a tool. I think that's all the introduction you really need here.

So Blake says we should tell the youngest member of our religious-dessecration party that we're going to turn out the lights and have a circle jerk. A circle jerk (like I have to explain to anyone that owns a computer) is when a bunch of guys stand in a circle and, well, jerk off. I have never participated in a circle jerk, largely because I've never been a member of a fraternity.

So we tell the youngest member of the party, Matt W, that we'll be having the circle jerk, give him a couple minutes and then turn on the lights. At which time Matt, being the only person not in on the joke, is the only one masturbating and becomes the target of all the shit we can give him for the rest of the party.

As I said, Blake is a tool. This is his idea of having fun.

However, being 13 at the time, I thought it was pretty goddamn funny too, and if I remember correctly I was the one chosen to turn the lights back on.

Now, here's where it gets interesting.

Oh, real quick I'd like to point out to everyone reading that this is being read by my good friend Brian's fiance' Andrea. I'm to be the best man at thier wedding next October. Andrea, in answer to your unspoken question, YES, Brian was at this party.

So the scene is the lights are out, dark outside, caffiene and porn crazed teenagers inside the chapel, the youngest one of whom is presumably masturbating, secure in the knowledge that the other 10 or 11 people in the room are too.

Why does that sound kinda disturbing?

Anyways, the lights go on and Matt was smart enough to know that anything Blake thought was a good idea was something he should have no part of. Blake, on the other hand, either forgot his own plan, or (and God I hope this isn't so) orchestrated this entire scenario just so everyone would look at him naked, was pantsless and violently abusing himself.

I believe as revenge we filled his underwear with menthol shaving cream when he fell asleep.

My head hurts. I'm gonna go sleep now. I look forward to reading the comments on this one.