even from a young age, just about everybody knew there was something wrong with me.
not wrong, just different. i knew there was something different about me as well. my dad's truck drivin' friends seemed so damn cool for a bunch of dickhead bogans. the guys at the beach held my eye more than the jigly bits of the girls. the posters TV Week promo posters of Mel Gibson in Mad Max III and Jon Bon Jovi on my sister's walls started to look more and more interesting.
i think i was able to keep the fact i was gay hidden fairly well by my need to smash everything around me (and put it back together). as i got older it was demented drawings of evil monsters, severed body parts spewing a torrent of blood, vagina dentata and teenage mutant ninja bananas. older still, it was colllecting dead animals and waiting for the skin to fall from the bones so i could reconstruct new animals out of them. these traits usually associated with being the early warning signs of a serial killer, where much easier to deal with than knowing i was a sexual pervert. it's probably for the best that all came out later anyway. it's far more profitable to get into when you're older (at least easier to market), and slightly more legal.
here is my half-arsed guide of How To Succeed in Whoring (Without Really Trying)
2 comments:
I hope you tell us this story one day: "... colllecting dead animals and waiting for the skin to fall from the bones so i could reconstruct new animals ..."
that is the story. the animal would rot in the backyard, stink up the property and i'd glue the bones back together with other animal bones to make new smelly super animals!
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