Hair on the Cutting Room Floor
By: David McGhee
Woke up yesterday and had my usual cigarette. May I talk for a while on how cool it is to smoke? I mean, you get cancer, which gets you pain medication, which makes you happy! At least that's the way I'm looking at it. I can't take opiates at the moment because I'm on Suboxone, which is an opiate blocker. The shit is strong too! I remember being on like four milligrams and trying to shoot up about sixty dollars worth of heroin. Absolutely nothing happened. No high and no happy David. Curse you modern medicine!
Not that I was trying to kill myself that time, because I was, but more importantly I should say that there is nothing more awesomer than an upside down jock.
Now that I got that out of the way, let's talk about waffles. My old boyfriend wouldn't eat them because he said that they were invented in the great depression or some shit like that and they were made to feed a ton of people with minimal money and effort. I happen to love waffles. Plus Pancakes are cool too. But I like a huge Belgian waffle with walnuts on my plate, smothered in blueberry preserves and eaten with a fork. Why would anyone eat a loaded waffle with their fingers? That's just crazy talk.
Crazy talk is something I do well. I swear, every time I see a tall handsome man I get the compulsion to go up to him and congratulate him on being tall. You know, because chicks dig it. Fucking shallow pieces of shit. Not that men are much better. I can't tell you how many times I answered an online personal ad that proclaimed that said gay man will only go out with other tall handsome gay men. Although I'm sure if a straight man wanted to, he could mount one of these guys. But that would at best make him bisexual. Which is cool, even I have partaken in the vagina from time to time. I just believe that the world is better off without me in the gene pool. So no babies for David. Imagine me reproducing? I was enough to handle by even the most hardened of mental health professionals as a child, why in the fuck would I put a mini me through all that shit?
Although I would like to have a kid someday when I'm all moneyed up and skinny. I bet my adopted son will grow up to be tall and handsome and fuck the living shit out of bitches simply because tall handsome men are all sluts. Tall people have no feelings.
Erin, her friend Mary, and I went to Empire Beauty School so they could get their hair did. I waited patiently in the waiting area for about five minutes reading my Stephen King book (it was and still is “It.” Which is basically a bajillion pages. But it's sooooooooooo good!) before I headed out to the cutting floor to bug my friends.
Mary is Erin's neighbor and she is pretty cool if I do say so myself. Although “cool” and “David” rarely ever go together, so take that for what it's worth. But she was nice to me and gave me cigarettes (remember, CANCER!!!) and she even told me that I'm a nice person.
El, oh, el.
I wish I was a big old jocky man whore. I'd be making babies left and right and fulfilling my evolutionary duties. That's right, I said “duties” and not “doodies,” as in taking a poo. As in bending over and hugging your knees while a fourteen inch shit as hard as azurite comes out of your bung hole and clogs up the toilet. Every fucking time! Fuck you Suboxone!
Suboxone is an opiate so it will make you constipated.
Chaboni Greek Yogurt just called me a day ago and told me that they'd pay for my medical bills that were incurred from eating said yogurt, which was recalled. Man, oh man, does food poisoning suck! I thought I was having one of the worst migraines ever that day. I remember crying for hours because the pain was so bad. Frank came home later that night and gave me a shit ton of pot. But even then all it did was help me sleep through the horribleness.
But I have Medicaid, which means that my medical bills were paid for. I told them initially that I wasn't looking for money but then people were telling me that I need reimbursement for my pain and suffering. I don't know... I suppose I could use a little bit of money. It would help pay for the more expensive things in my life. Like food and water.
I rarely drink sodas anymore. Credit goes to my partner, Frank, for segging me away from soda and into a more delicious and nutritious (my ass) alternative that is water. Water isn't so bad if it's really cold. I mean, really, really cold. As in almost freezing. Our dumb shit refrigerator does the trick. Thank God for malfunctioning appliances!
Anyways, we were at the hair cutting place and I was walking around talking to the student barbers. Not all of them welcomed me, but this one was especially nice to me. Her name is... Well... I think I forgot? Cham... Something. But she was awesomely nice and put up with me for a whole thirty minutes before Erin and Mary got done did with their hair.
Holy high I'm shit right now! If I knew how to make the appropriate emotocon, believe me I'd use it.
Speaking of shit, did you know that I got H Pylori?
You did? Oh... I see how it is. You're just going to read anything I write now aren't you? Pfft. But it's okay to read my stuff. I have a lot of love for what I do. Fuck. I wrote three full length books and put them up as ebooks for free! And I got like, a bajillion downloads (One More Suicide hit 2,200 downloads. Go me!).
Oh yeah. The point. Not to lose you or anything but I sort of do that. My doctor today said that I very well could be ADD. Which stands for Attention Deficit Dis... Oh look! A squirrel!
*Chases squirrel to it's secret underground layer and almost caught the squirrel until I saw a bufly!*
Bufly! Bufly! I remember I drew this this one time when I was younger. It makes sense when you think about it. This was a doodle for my old band Ginkins. Man those were good times.
I loved recording the recordings we recorded. You can hear them and experience the David over at: http://goodbyetimebomb.bandcamp.com. I remember that our drummer was a homophobic mother fucker. It's why we ultimately let him go. That, and he was a dick. I mean, he was cool to me sometimes but me being in the closet can only hear so much about how he should beat gays up and shit. Later on I found out that our bassist Mike felt the same way. Because he came out a while ago. So I suppose I'm just writing this to justify having pissed someone off.
Plus another drawing I did.
Oh look... A birdy!
Anyhoow... It was Chelly! Chelly was the cool barber over at that beauty college. She talked about how she had gotten her grandchild (of the female variety) an Easy Bake Oven. Remember those?
*Easy Bake Oven*
Yeah. Chelly and her grandchild both loved Goldfish Crackers. So it was only logical that when said grandchild had gotten such a clever little device, that she would make her one Goldfish Crackers. So one thing led to another and she wound up frying Chelly's goldfish in the fucking thing. Saying she was making crackers. What a little fish killer!
Although I can't complain, I used to feed my old piranha (If you want to get technical then it was a red bellied pacu) small frogs. It wasn't as cool as you'd think because he was so big at that point that he (or she) swallowed them whole. Where's the fun in that? I wanted to see some blood!
Thank God I still have some manly mental functions. I dislike men who are flaming. It gives gay people an accurate name. Well, you have your queen and your butch. Being butch and being gay. Does that make sense? You're basically straight except you get fucked in the ass by a dude.
Erin got together with this guy named Kurt and she seems very happy. So congratulations to her!
Seriously, he's cool. And cute. He is so secure with his sexuality that he even sent me a nekkid pic on ma phone. It was good. The dude is like five foot four and he looks very good nekkid. All skinny and has those lines above the hips and shit.
I think I'm going to strive on doing a post every other day. That way I can do some more short stories in between. So until then, see you BrandonPirkle!