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.
Smiley face.
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?
What?
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!
