So, I have this student. I wrote about her before, and if I wasn’t such a retard I would link to that post to remind you. Here’s the summary: She was engaged to be married to a guy that was over in Iraq. When he returned they got married by the Justice of the Peace and she sent me some of her wedding photos. This was the first time I had seen what this student looked like. She’s all right looking, but a little thick. Not fat, just a little…flabby. I commented in that previous post that since her man is over in Iraq getting his ass shot at on a daily basis the very least she might be able to do was get into some decent shape so she would look good once he returned. I mean, no one’s expecting a super model, but a few sit ups and running around the block a couple of times wouldn’t kill you.
Well, I’m talking to this student the other day, and she casually mentions that she is back in her home state of Michigan instead of New York, where her husband is stationed.
Me: You on vacation?
Student: No. I’m separated from my husband.
Me: Are you serious? When did that happen?
Student: A while ago.
Me: Why?
And then she proceeded to give me the extremely banal and sometimes melodramatic details that resulted in their break up. It’s filled with the typical shit: jealousy, miscommunication, money, family, friends, and bullshit.
Here’s the kicker: at some point it came up in the conversation that she had met her husband online.
Me: Oh, really. How was that?
Student: He was over in Iraq and…
Me: Wait a second. He was in Iraq?
Student: Yeah.
Me: How did you actually meet him online then?
Student: It was a chat room.
Me: He was in a chat room while in Iraq?
Student: Yeah.
Me: ………
Does this strike anyone else as bizarre? After a day of fighting and shooting and getting shot at and kicking Iraqi ass and getting your ass kicked and killing people and watching your buddies die, you come back to the base camp, jump online, and go into a chat room?
So, yeah, that’s one thing. Then there’s this: They met and became engaged online. Huh? The first time they had ever met in person was the day he came back home. Again, huh? Who the fuck would do this? I guess, the same kind of people who are willing to separate after a couple of months. I mean, a couple of months: at least you made an effort, gave it the old college try. They are no longer a couple. Big surprise there. Who couldn’t have clued in on this one. Where were their families? Did everyone think this was a grand idea. No one had a single reservation? The girl is looking to get an annulment, but in New York it’s very hard to do. I’m glad. She should have the moniker of divorce. Although it’s not the Scarlet A it used to be, which may or may not be a good thing, there should be some consequences for acting in such an absurd manner. Perhaps that’s me being too judgmental. Fuck it. I’m judgmental, and fuck you for judging me for judging her.
I’m scanning through The New York Times today and I come across and article about S.E. Hilton, the writer behind the novel THE OUTSIDERS. I was completely shocked that the author turns out to be a woman. I had no idea. The movie and the book were favorites of mine when I was young [I still love the movie: “We’re gonna do it for Johnny.”] and I just assumed it was written by a man. Not that it makes much of a difference. It doesn’t change the way I look at the story and the characters, it’s just a little confusing. Why? I don’t really know. Maybe it does affect the way I look at the story. I’m not sure why that would be so, but maybe it does.
It does reminds me of a story. When I was around twenty years old I picked up a copy of Truman Capote’s IN COLD BLOOD. At the time, I was trying to write and publish some of my own short stories. I instantly fell in love with this book. It’s still a favorite. The writing is a revelation. It’s perfect. Capote has this ability to fully describe a person in a few short paragraphs and make them come alive in your mind. The book is just amazing and if you haven’t read it I would highly recommend it.
On the back of the paperback edition I bought there was a picture of Capote. He’s wearing what looks like to be a safari type jacket and a fedora. He looks like a man’s man. He looked as if he was in the tradition of Hemmingway.
For those of you in the know, quit giggling.
After the book, I devoured anything and everything I could get my hands on by Capote. I read all his short stories, his character sketches, his travelogues, every he had every written. One day I came across this biography of the man. Since all I really knew about him was the brief biographical information on the inside cover of his books, I picked up and started to read.
Holy shit, was I in for a shock.
It seems that Truman Capote was not only a homosexual, he was so on fire flamingly flamboyantly gay that he made those dudes from Queer Eye positively hetero in comparison. So I read how this writer, who I loved, was basically a male whore, fucking everything in sight, popping mad amount of pills, becoming a gossipy fat little bitch, and in the end lived a rather lonely, rather pathetic life.
Up until this point I would not have considered myself homophobic in the slightest. I truly have a live and let live philosophy and it really doesn’t matter to me what you do, who you do, or how you do it, as long as it doesn’t fuck with others.
This book really challenged what I thought my beliefs were.
I asked my mom, “Did you know Truman Capote was gay?” She couldn’t stop laughing. DUH! A more gay man God has not yet created.
Then I saw an old appearance of Capote on The Johnny Carson Show. It was obvious. He had this high pitched stereotypical lispy type voice, along with all the mannerisms that scream gay. He dressed, walked, talked, acted, behaved as if every ounce of his being were gay.
This really had an effect on me in ways that were wholly unexpected. Again, before this I would claim with absolute surety that I had no problems with gay people at all. Now, all of a sudden, I can no longer read anything by Capote. I tried to re-read some of my favorite stories and I couldn’t get through. All I could think about as I was reading them was what he was doing at this time in his life when he was working on this story.
It was a while before I could pick up a Capote book and read it and enjoy it again. He’s still one of my favorite writers. I’ve never had an experience like that again, and I’m not exactly sure what was happening then. Perhaps I do have these deep seeded prejudices that I’m not aware of.
There’s no punch line here. That’s the end. Sorry.
Is anyone aware of just how awesome Nilla Wafers are? For those readers in China [I’m still fucking huge in China] and elsewhere on the planet and do not know what Nilla Wafers are, let me explain. They are God’s little present of goodness and love given to us as a sign that there still is some good left in the world. These were a favorite of mine as a kid, and while I haven’t had one in years, I bought a box Sunday while I was doing the weekly food shopping. Simply put, I rediscovered my sense of right and wrong, good vs evil, and have come full circle to think that there is meaning and harmony and purpose in the world. Yes, they are that fucking good. I think it goes without saying that I managed to finish the box in about an hour and a half and didn’t bother offering any to my pregnant wife. In fact, when she asked if there were any Nilla Wafers left I pretended that I didn’t know what she was talking about.
Well, I’m talking to this student the other day, and she casually mentions that she is back in her home state of Michigan instead of New York, where her husband is stationed.
Me: You on vacation?
Student: No. I’m separated from my husband.
Me: Are you serious? When did that happen?
Student: A while ago.
Me: Why?
And then she proceeded to give me the extremely banal and sometimes melodramatic details that resulted in their break up. It’s filled with the typical shit: jealousy, miscommunication, money, family, friends, and bullshit.
Here’s the kicker: at some point it came up in the conversation that she had met her husband online.
Me: Oh, really. How was that?
Student: He was over in Iraq and…
Me: Wait a second. He was in Iraq?
Student: Yeah.
Me: How did you actually meet him online then?
Student: It was a chat room.
Me: He was in a chat room while in Iraq?
Student: Yeah.
Me: ………
Does this strike anyone else as bizarre? After a day of fighting and shooting and getting shot at and kicking Iraqi ass and getting your ass kicked and killing people and watching your buddies die, you come back to the base camp, jump online, and go into a chat room?
So, yeah, that’s one thing. Then there’s this: They met and became engaged online. Huh? The first time they had ever met in person was the day he came back home. Again, huh? Who the fuck would do this? I guess, the same kind of people who are willing to separate after a couple of months. I mean, a couple of months: at least you made an effort, gave it the old college try. They are no longer a couple. Big surprise there. Who couldn’t have clued in on this one. Where were their families? Did everyone think this was a grand idea. No one had a single reservation? The girl is looking to get an annulment, but in New York it’s very hard to do. I’m glad. She should have the moniker of divorce. Although it’s not the Scarlet A it used to be, which may or may not be a good thing, there should be some consequences for acting in such an absurd manner. Perhaps that’s me being too judgmental. Fuck it. I’m judgmental, and fuck you for judging me for judging her.
I’m scanning through The New York Times today and I come across and article about S.E. Hilton, the writer behind the novel THE OUTSIDERS. I was completely shocked that the author turns out to be a woman. I had no idea. The movie and the book were favorites of mine when I was young [I still love the movie: “We’re gonna do it for Johnny.”] and I just assumed it was written by a man. Not that it makes much of a difference. It doesn’t change the way I look at the story and the characters, it’s just a little confusing. Why? I don’t really know. Maybe it does affect the way I look at the story. I’m not sure why that would be so, but maybe it does.
It does reminds me of a story. When I was around twenty years old I picked up a copy of Truman Capote’s IN COLD BLOOD. At the time, I was trying to write and publish some of my own short stories. I instantly fell in love with this book. It’s still a favorite. The writing is a revelation. It’s perfect. Capote has this ability to fully describe a person in a few short paragraphs and make them come alive in your mind. The book is just amazing and if you haven’t read it I would highly recommend it.
On the back of the paperback edition I bought there was a picture of Capote. He’s wearing what looks like to be a safari type jacket and a fedora. He looks like a man’s man. He looked as if he was in the tradition of Hemmingway.
For those of you in the know, quit giggling.
After the book, I devoured anything and everything I could get my hands on by Capote. I read all his short stories, his character sketches, his travelogues, every he had every written. One day I came across this biography of the man. Since all I really knew about him was the brief biographical information on the inside cover of his books, I picked up and started to read.
Holy shit, was I in for a shock.
It seems that Truman Capote was not only a homosexual, he was so on fire flamingly flamboyantly gay that he made those dudes from Queer Eye positively hetero in comparison. So I read how this writer, who I loved, was basically a male whore, fucking everything in sight, popping mad amount of pills, becoming a gossipy fat little bitch, and in the end lived a rather lonely, rather pathetic life.
Up until this point I would not have considered myself homophobic in the slightest. I truly have a live and let live philosophy and it really doesn’t matter to me what you do, who you do, or how you do it, as long as it doesn’t fuck with others.
This book really challenged what I thought my beliefs were.
I asked my mom, “Did you know Truman Capote was gay?” She couldn’t stop laughing. DUH! A more gay man God has not yet created.
Then I saw an old appearance of Capote on The Johnny Carson Show. It was obvious. He had this high pitched stereotypical lispy type voice, along with all the mannerisms that scream gay. He dressed, walked, talked, acted, behaved as if every ounce of his being were gay.
This really had an effect on me in ways that were wholly unexpected. Again, before this I would claim with absolute surety that I had no problems with gay people at all. Now, all of a sudden, I can no longer read anything by Capote. I tried to re-read some of my favorite stories and I couldn’t get through. All I could think about as I was reading them was what he was doing at this time in his life when he was working on this story.
It was a while before I could pick up a Capote book and read it and enjoy it again. He’s still one of my favorite writers. I’ve never had an experience like that again, and I’m not exactly sure what was happening then. Perhaps I do have these deep seeded prejudices that I’m not aware of.
There’s no punch line here. That’s the end. Sorry.
Is anyone aware of just how awesome Nilla Wafers are? For those readers in China [I’m still fucking huge in China] and elsewhere on the planet and do not know what Nilla Wafers are, let me explain. They are God’s little present of goodness and love given to us as a sign that there still is some good left in the world. These were a favorite of mine as a kid, and while I haven’t had one in years, I bought a box Sunday while I was doing the weekly food shopping. Simply put, I rediscovered my sense of right and wrong, good vs evil, and have come full circle to think that there is meaning and harmony and purpose in the world. Yes, they are that fucking good. I think it goes without saying that I managed to finish the box in about an hour and a half and didn’t bother offering any to my pregnant wife. In fact, when she asked if there were any Nilla Wafers left I pretended that I didn’t know what she was talking about.
