Monday, December 26, 2011

It Happened One Fine Day

This first appeared in my fanzine "It's Alright To Be An Asshole" issue #2 1989. It's 100% true. Why would I make shit like this up?
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THIS IS A TRUE STORY...ONE OF THE MOST TERRIFYING THINGS THAT COULD HAPPEN TO A PERSON. READ IT, STUDY IT, LEARN FROM IT, BECAUSE IF YOU'RE NOT CAREFUL IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!!!!!!!!!!


One fine day I was riding on the MTC bus, I think it was route number 18, with my girlfriend (we have since broken up, but that is a different story). It was very, very hot. The time and temperature sign at the Twin City Federal said the temp was 98, and that sign was in the shade. The air conditioner on the bus was either not turned on or was broken, and I was sitting on the vinyl seat. To make matters worse, I was wearing a pair of black bondage pants, of which the crotch had ripped out and I had patched with those plastic-backed iron-on patches. So, with all of the different things to affect me, I was building up quite a sweat in the groin area.

Or so I thought.

When we got to my house I excused myself while my (ex)girlfriend went down into the basement where it was a little cooler. I went to the bathroom to wipe the sweat from my crotch, and grabbing a sufficient handful of toilet paper, I unsnapped the fastener of my pants.

Expecting nothing more than a mildly unpleasant odor when my pants fell, I almost fainted at what I discovered in the bottom of my boxers.Instead of being soaked with sweat, as I had expected, the whole bottom of my underwear was covered in crimson. It took me a minute to figure out what was going on. It wasn't registering in my brain. Why was I sweating blood instead of the regular perspiration? Then it hit me. I was bleeding out of my asshole. I cleaned myself up, changed my underwear, and went to watch tv and wait for my parents to return home from wherever they were. After a few hours they came back and I told them of the prediciment I was in. They instructed me to go into the bathroom, they would follow me in and inspect my bloody rectum.



After they had seen what I had to offer them, they went to the phone and called the emergeny room at the doctors’ office. I was in shock when I heard those words rolling from my mother’s mouth. “Hello, I need to bring my seventeen year old son in for an emergency operation…What does he have? A bleeding rectum… That is what I thought… hemmerhoids. Hemmerhoids?!? Me? I was only 17! Old people get ‘rhoids, not little punk rock kids like me!!! Anyway, so my mom told me to get in the car, that we were going to see the doctor. I thought “Great, I’m gonna get my asshole chopped up and it’s gonna bleed more than it is right now.”



When we arrived at the docs we were told to wait in the lobby and the doctor would be with us shortly. An hour passed, and then a second. I could feel the blood building back up in the clean boxers I had put on prior to leaving, but I didn’t want to take care of it. I wanted the doc to have a nice surprise when he finally called me in. After what seemed like forever I finally heard my name called. I stood up, feeling a little trickle of blood run down my leg. Once inside the examining room I was asked what the problem was. “Bloody asshole” was all I said.

“I see” the doctor said, “Drop ‘em!”

I proceeded to do what he said, took off my pants, got up on the table, and bent over so he could get a good look. After he said a bunch of “hmmmmmmms” and “aaaaahhhhhhhhhs” he told me to relax, and to grab on to the edge of the table. I did what he said and as soon as I had gotten a good grip on the corners, the doctor rammed his whole index finger up my poop chute. Then my mind went blank.



The next thing I remembered was the doctor asking me what my eating habbits were like.

“This is new” I thought to myself, “first he rapes my butt, then he wants to take me out to dinner. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” But I told him that I had a Hostess blueberry pie and some chocolate milk for breakfast, and McDonalds for dinner before work.



He then said “I see… how long have you had such a keen interest in nutrition?”

I told him that I had been eating like that for the past few years or so.

“Ah, that’s it then.” he said. “You need more fiber in your diet. Your stool is hard and you had to work harder to get it out. The result is your condition now. You’ve got hemmerhoids.”

I asked him what the medical definition was and he told me.

“It’s when a blood vessle pops out of your rectum. But,” he said, “we’ll take care of that right now.”

He called in his nurse who brought in with her all sorts of knives and other surgical instruments. I think I passed out. All I remember is pain and more pain. Then it was over. I was told to take a bath 3 times a day, shove these huge horse pills up my ass, and change the way I ate.

Well, at least I took a bath three times a day. There was no way I was gonna shove those horse pills up my ass after I had had his finger up there. And there was no way I was giving up my McDonalds.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Bad Date #1

This is how I remember it:


So this Mohawk chick that fell in love with me two weeks into my Junior year of high school agreed to meet me at the Dead Kennedys show.  I had had one "girlfriend" by this time but in the anthropological sense was still not a “man”.  Anyway, this broad had cool hair and a bad attitude so I thought I'd see where it would get me. 

I was waiting outside of the show for my "date" to show up, losing faith in her supposed love for me.  I was dancing in the cold waiting for my supposed amore, shuffling from foot to foot and beating back the cold air.  I don’t care what anyone says, a leather jacket from Bermans and a pair of Chuck Taylors are not made for November in Minneapolis. She finally showed up 40 minutes late, made some small talk about how she was really tired, and then went in to the show.  We found some floor space against the back wall where she promptly fell asleep in my lap.

After the gig, which she slept through, we set up a "make-up" bowling date for the next afternoon.  Bowling, sport of Kings!

Now I had been on a bowling team a scant few years prior, and I still had a good average, high game of that day was 189.  We went to pay at the end of our 3 lines and I found out that in the ensuing 4 years the cost of this most noble sport had about doubled.  I was $3 short.  She had no cash whatsoever, so I did what any chivalric man would do.  I ran home in the snow to beg some money from my parents.
My dad gave me the necessary sums and told me to run my ass off back to the bowling alley.  Leaving my date there was just not class, he said.

Two bad dates in a row, one her fault and one mine.

We ended up staying together for a few years.