Saturday, October 31, 2009

My First Halloween Costume

So, in October 1965 was my first Halloween. I was a whole 5 months and 6 days old.

My mom went as Amelia Earhardt and dad was "My Mother The Car".

I was a bag of Gravy Train dog food.

That's right. My folks put me in an empty bag of Gravy Train & took me around.

And apparently this was a big hit.

So, if your first Halloween costume was something embarrassing, just remember:

You could've been a bag of dog food

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Why my name is Brian

I was gonna write this myself, but my mom told it better. Plus I had the wrong Beach Boy. I love you Mom!

When I was pregnant with you, we went to visit the Carl Wilson and the Beach Boys who were performing (maybe Hampton Beach... can't remember and we certainly saw them there several times). Anyway, we were sitting in Carl's room making small talk when he asked us if we had a name picked out. I said we had decided on the name Kelly Anne if we had a girl, but had not settled on a boy's name yet. Carl got very sentimental (my opinion) and asked if we had considered the name Brian. He said his older brother Brian (who wasn't on this tour) was such an incredible person with an amazing talent. He went on to talk about Brian with such admiration and love, that I said to Dad later that I liked the name Brian and I wouldn't mind naming our baby Brian, and Dad agreed. We both thought Carl Wilson was one of the nicest people we knew, and we felt if Brian inspired so much admiration and love in his young brother, we couldn't go wrong with that name choice (and a plus was it was a new name....we had no Brian's in either of our families). So after you were born, the next time the Beach Boys were in the area and we saw Carl, we introduced him to you and tears came to his eyes when he heard your name. Your middle name was after my father's youngest brother, Eddie, whom I admired a great deal. (Eddie was 10 years older than me, and I thought he was very handsome and the coolest guy I knew.)
That's about it.... now Dad may remember it differently, but that is how I remember it.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Social Probation

So, I got suspended a lot in high school.

At Groton-Dunstable you could get suspended 4 times, and the fifth time was expulsion for the year. In my junior year, I got suspended 8 times. But I was able to plead 3 down to "It wasn't my fault".

I decided I had to fly straight. Or at least, under the radar. Then a classmate, Kurt, was smitten at the last weekend's school dance with a classmate's visiting friend. Who wore leather pants at the dance. And was monitoring class all week.

Whoops.

That Monday, I started whispering "Go for it, Kurt!" all the time. He kept getting heated. Face beet red. Scissoring his legs under his desk. I had him. Soon, everyone in class was whispering it too. By the end of class, we weren't even being discreet, just shouting it. Poor Kurt was fucking ripped.

At the end of class, we got chastised, and I promised to be nice.

SUCKERS.

I went to my locker, and as ol' Kurt passed, I said quietly "Go for it Kurt."

He leapt at me screaming "I'll kill you!" and proceeded to try. I was taller, yet skinny as a rail. He was shorter, but probably in better shape. But I knew I would be expelled. So I grinned at him and sat helpless as he tried to bash my head through my locker in an amazing rage. He got pulled off of me, we went to the principal's office, and everyone (Kurt included, thanks buddy!) agreed I didn't fight. Suspension, no expulsion.

I got thrown out of class for disruption a lot. I remember that a sub for a sub even threw me out a week after I had been thrown out. The week before, we had been reading Huck Finn in class, and where I sat (in the back, natch) was an illustrated poster of it.

One of the last panels of the poster had a drawing of Huck in a boat "lighting out" and the headline said so. Well, I thought it would be funny so change it to say "Huck Finn Lights Up" and drew a doob in his mouth. Of course, I pointed this out to my friends, and pretty soon those friends – who by the way, would ask me to disrupt class so we wouldn't have to work – pointed it out to everyone except our teacher. So, every time she would say "Huck Finn" I would say "Lights up". And seeing as I was an antagonizer, the whole class soon followed. So, she'd mention Huck Finn, and the whole class would say "Lights up".

Needless to say, she was not amused.

So I got thrown out for subordination, and next week, when the sick-leave sub had had enough, we had a new sub. We fucked with her hard, man. Finally, being an actual intelligent (yet guileless) fill-in, she figured out who was the troublemaker.

Uh, that would be me.

I don't remember what caused it, but she ended up yelling at me, and called me trash. I was FUCKING INFURIATED! How dare she? I WAS the troublemaker, but, shit lady, I wasn't trash. So I had to prove a point.

I proceeded to stand in the trash can & tell her that I would stay with the trash & not go to the office.

So, after a mandatory week vacation from school, and a stern talking to, I came back to find out I was suspended. And expelled.

Which leads me to social probation. See, by then I was in a lot of mischief. But, in Groton, you don't have a Senior prom, just a junior prom and a Senior trip. And I was hooked up. I was going with my girlfriend Tracy & everything was gonna be great. Except for this little thing called social probation. Which meant I was such an ass in school that I was denied from going to my prom. Which, by the way was a NON-SCHOOL event & paid for by my class (who's bank account still had my name as class treasurer on it). I even got a petition signed by a shit load of students and townsfolk and we presented this to the school board. "Blah blah blah. Why punish a kid from his once in a lifetime prom? Blah blah blah."

It was a good point, but they didn't care. And neither did I.

See, I cared about going to prom with Tracy. I loved her and I knew it meant a lot to her, plus NOW SHE HAD TO GO WITH ANOTHER GUY! Well, that other guy part turned out ok, but I WAS MISSING ALL OF THE FUN!!! Plus, I was looking forward to that night-moves, jack-and-diane prom night, special sex! And T & I had already had some night moves anyway...or as we called it "Pathfinder" (ask her for the explanation). But otherwise, they could stuff the pomp & circumcision, um I mean circumstance.

So, that night during prom, I sat on the roof of Scott Johnson's house (not my brother, the one in my class) and we each drank a case of beer (24 at the time) and watched the parade of people who could go to the prom as they went by & honked & wave. We got FUCKED UP.

Somehow, we got a ride to the after party & had a good time. But Tracy went home. And some chunky foreign exchange student tried to make out with me, but I declined.

So, my senior year, after I had (STUPIDLY) dumped T, I was dating a couple of girls, life was good. Then, a girl in the junior class asked me to HER prom, under the guise of allowing me to actually go to a prom, but I think she really did like me. She will remain nameless, for reasons you will soon find out, but she was/is really attractive, and I was more than happy. We actually started a little dating gimmick for a while.

We double dated, and let me say, she looked so fucking cute. Like a little southern belle in peach. Just a darling. Anyway, on the way on to the prom, she & her "BFF" started to take shots from a bottle of rum I had procured. The prom went great. We had a lovely time. Then, on the way through Dunstable to the after-party, the 2 girls started pouring rum down their throats while holding their noses. By the time we got to the party, they were FUCKED to the UP, kid!

OK. Let me tell this short and not too embarrassing to my date. Things got hazy for her & I took her into the host family's house. She had to pee, but I decided to call her mom as I was worried about her, and felt like an asshole for getting her the rum that she asked for (by the way). While I was talking to her mom, apologizing profusely ("Did you pour the booze down her throat?" mom said, and I said no, so she told me to chill...me thinking, yeah but I bought it!) My lovely date decided that she was in fact in the bathroom, and proceeded to drop her lacies and pee on the ottomon. I ran to stop her, and host mom & I helped her straighten up a bit, all the while telling her it was ok. I stood in the front yard with her until her WONDERFUL mom got there, forgiving me all the time, and she left.

Then I went, got drunk, fooled around with some other chick, went to the beach in the morning with everyone else, and trust me, you don't wanna know what I did with some other girl there.

So, what is the point of this story? It was supposed to be how social probation in high school fucked my (sex/social) life. But after typing it, I realize...not so much. It's just a story about how someone who was a "bad egg" spent his prom night(s). Ah to be that young and dumb again. At the time I was so sad to miss that shit. But I guess, like all of the stories in my life, it is different from everyone else's prom story. And I can't, nor wouldn't, trade any of the fucked up stories of my life with anyone.

'Cuz then my stories would be boring. SUCKERS!

peace & love, peace & love...

Brian aka thetypeman

PS names have been changed/omitted for obvious reasons. And I also realize my grammar sucks. I WILL re-edit the grammar. Content stays.