And now, my daily blog

I shall be posting a page from my diary every day. Or as often as I remember to.

Today's entry is from 04/02/2010

Dear diary,

Today my anti-semitic father and I went to the park for a stroll to get some ice cream. Along the way we saw a really slutty girl throwing frisby to her dog. Her chest was wet, so you could pretty much see her tits. Straight women have no shame. She did have an ass though. Well, while staring at her, my father slapped my back, yelling "Andy, I see you found a pretty young girl to ogle!" I jumped a bit and had to laugh it off. He'd probably die if I told him I'd only do her if she had an 8" dick.

Resuming our walk, we saw these two Arab looking dudes just chatting. Instantly I knew that my dad was going to blow a fucking gasket. I grabbed him and tried to drag him away, telling him that he could go to prison and whatnot. He wasn't going to have any of that and immediately yelled out "Hey, you stupid fucking Iranian niggerjews! What do you think you're doing?" I remember feeling terror crawling through my body, but the worst part of it was this: why was my dad using an insult that sounds like it would come off the internet?

They looked at us with a grunt and a "huh". Then dad yelled at them again "I said what the fuck do you think you're doing?" That's when one of them started to walk at us, the other one just standing there, watching. I quickly tried to encourage him to run away, mentioning possibility of arrest. The guy who came was probably my age and had some luxurious hair. It was like, super gorgeous and sooooo straight. I want to run my fingers through it and smell it. I bet it smells like hash. Well, anyway, the guy strolled up and said "Sir, I'm not Iranian. I'm not a...black person. I'm Israeli and thus, yes, a Jew. Is there a problem with me just chatting with my friend?"

Of course, that lit my dad's fuse. He started to shake with rage and shot the Israeli guy a middle finger screaming, "Yes, because you're wasting valuable space and oxygen for us normal people, ya fucking kyke!" Then faster than I could even blink, the Israeli guy knocked my dad down and then proceeded to beat the piss out of him. We ended up having to call an ambulance it was so bad. Bruised ribcage, had to get 3 stitches on his forehead, and a cut lip and several other bruises. Serves him right. Also, while waiting for the ambulance I exchanged numbers with that guy. I figured he was gay in like, a minute of meeting him. His name is Ben. Yeah, I managed to suave him over by telling him I hate my dad and have a Jewish fetish. I'm smooth like that.

Well, diary, it's time to give it a rest so I can go tend to my dad's injuries and probably play some Xbox. Deuces!

You should make this into a video blog.

Yeah so that was the best thing I've read today. Kagom, I love you.

You should make this into a video blog.

With reenactments of the events in each story.

If I had the necessary and willing actors to do it, I would. As is, most of the actors I know here are lazy and won't pull through.

I'm sure you could find enough artsy gays to help.

Not in Mississippi. Least the part I live in. Sorry for the double posting homeys.

Today's entry is from 04/10/2010

Deary diary,

Today was the start of a pretty typical day here at the household. Mom was having her early morning martini and dad was reading "The Protocols of the Elders of Zion" for the fourth time. I was having phone sex with Ben (who, by the way, is fucking gorgeous, but he's not terribly bright). That's when the doorbell rang. My mother, claiming loudly that she'd "Fucking get the goddamn door" when my dad motioned that he wasn't going to get up. That changed kinda fast when she managed to trip over her own feet, which I'm sure the fact it was her third martini had nothing to do with that. Dad pretty much went fuck it and answered the door.

I stopped paying attention for a minute to keep up with Ben when mom yelled out "Andy! Andy! Come down, it's your brother Brian!" Of course, I had to feign my excitement and end my call with Ben. I hopped away from my room and came down, looking around cautiously, as my brother had instilled a crippling fear of him tackling me out of nowhere (as he was wont to do when we were little). Surprisingly, it didn't happen to me, for the first time in 6 years. He was pretty much chilling with the folks in the living room.

He looked pretty awful to be honest. He was really pale and let his hair grow out like some death metal fan. Maybe he's discovered heroin. Just kidding, my sister's the one with the heroin addiction. =) Anyway, he was talking about how he netted this job as a mortician's assistant at some funeral home the next town over. This fact sorta bothered me. But I couldn't quite place my brother's penis in some dead chick's snatch. Oops, I mean I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

They asked him the obligatory questions: did the mortician himself bang stiffs? Does formaldehyde really get you high? Dad asked the most important question: do you have to work on any Jews? Brian shrugged.

I, of course, had to ask why he was there. He simply said to tell us the news and that he wanted to tell it in person. Mom got mad at me and told me to shut my trampy mouth. No idea why it's trampy, but when I asked mom she simply told me because it it and I shouldn't question her or I'm no better than a thieving gypsy. I hate my family sometimes. I just let it go and listen to them drone on.

After a while dad had to go out to the Bible store to get some "Jew-free" literature. Mom was passed out on the couch with her fourth martini half drunk. That's when Brian told me he had something important to say. I wasn't really sure what to make of it, especially since Brian hates me. And I don't mean that in a family way, he flat out hates me and has told me several times he'd be better off if I died. Mostly when he was drunk and had gotten caught masturbating to some...bizarre porn by mom because of me being a little tattle-tale. Well, he said that I was the only one in the family he could trust. Weird.

That's when he dropped the creepiest bomb to end all. He told me something I don't think anyone would ever expect to hear and the first thing to come to mind is that they're bullshitting. He told me he was into banging stiffs. Like, literally. I didn't really believe him until he pulled out his phone and showed me the pictures. Yeah, he was carrying it around and the worst part was I could tell they were corpses.

He then told me the only reason he told me was because he knew I was gay and that I was the only sexual deviant in the family he felt he could confide in because we're so "similar". I threw up a few minutes after seeing my brother's dick in various dead chicks. As I came out of the bathroom, he asked me not to tell anyone. Against my better judgement, I agreed to and have not told mom or dad. That and he said he'd cut off my fingers, knock out my teeth, cut off my tongue and blind me if I told them.

Well, diary, I have to say, again, sometimes I hate my family and with that, I'm going to go to sleep. Deuces.

You live an interesting life Kagom... or Andy. I like Andy better.

Somehow, I didn't expect you to have a nice name like Andy.
Why "Deuces"?

Why not "Deuces"?

I just kinda imagine some gangster guy saying deuces.

I imagine a skinny dork with long hair fist bumping his notebook.

Well, it could be. You never know.

New story? Please a new story Kagom?

Today's entry is from 4/20/2010

Dear diary,

Today my alcoholic mother decided to actually clean the house, vacuum in one hand and a gin & tonic in the other. Which was kinda weird since she usually only does household chores with vermouth on the rocks. Well, she always does a really terrible job because of all the alcohol she consumes, usually knocking shit over and all. Today she happened to knock over a pile of clothes I had sitting on the foot of my bed. Normally, that's not too big of a problem, but I happened to be keeping my bong under there for some recreational fun.

Well, I heard her call for me to come up because of something she found. I got quite scared that she managed to find my dildo or my porn collection at first, so I headed on upstairs, ready to explain everything. All she did as I came into my room was hold the bong up and tell me that I was an asshole for not sharing with her. I was pretty perplexed that she was so calm about it and that's when she started asking me a bunch of questions and making various statements.

Are you buying good pot? If not, she wanted to beat me with the bong. Why didn't I tell her sooner because she would like to spark up with me. Apparently she'd rather smoke than drink because she hates hangovers. She also told me if I ever need a good hook-up, her sister only lives a few miles away and would give me a discount. But only if I asked her since she and mom hate each other.

So, as odd as it sounds, my mom and I sat down and took rips out of the bong. I dunno, all-in-all it was a pretty short day. I talked to Ben a little bit and got a call from my sister seeing if I had her old boyfriend's number so she could score some horse. Yeah, dunno. Maybe something more eventful will come up soon. Deuces.

Smoking with your mom..... My mom told me if I was going to to do it in my house but she would never smoke with me.

Should've been like "Smoke with me, bitch. It'll make life awesome."

vermouth on the rocks

I call bullshit. I've known some raging alcoholics, and even they wouldn't do something this stupid.

Willful suspension of disbelief and all that shit. Gawd.