Bresh Floggery

So it was later rather than sooner. If you're surprised then you just haven't been paying attention.

You might notice that when you make a comment, a word verification sign is now needed. Keep yer panties on, sister, it's not for ID purposes. Spam messages have been showing up all over the place lately... especially in posts 1 1/2 years old. This is just to stop them before it gets out of hand. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Just fucking type the easy word and then you can tell me how much I suck as freely and as anonymously as always.... chickenshits.

So then, we have comments... And there are a lot of them, so let's jump in.

1) October 12, 2009 9:21 AM... Bigly said... Two dudes split a chick, unrealized gay pinings? Two chicks work a dude, unrealized lesbianic tendencies?

Two guys on a chick means both guys want to see other techniques first hand, or it's a lifelong dream of the girl and everyone's drunk enough.

And yes, they are totally fagolas. I mean... one goes in slot A and the other goes in hole B and, THEY ARE PRACTICALLY FUCKING EACH OTHER!!! Legs rubbing together, sweat dripping on each other. Sword crossing, you KNOW there is sword crossing.

Two girls on a guy... no, they don't have to be lesbian, girls are just more comfortable working with/on each other. Probably because girls are softer and there is no big rod being shoved in places... unless a dildo is involved, but they can control it.

Ask around, I'll bet 9 out of every 10 chicks - gay or straight- you talk to would want to have a penis for a week, just to see what it's like. You'll never meet a real man who'll admit to wanting to have a vag for a week. We like our junk.

Of course... I'd love to have a vag for just a day... so I can spend all day figuring out how those crazy things work, I mean, I have a solid idea... but no concrete proof. What's funny is that in the end, we all just say, "Fuck it, I'm getting tired," and start pounding away anyway.

2) October 12, 2009 5:43 PM... Julie said... Hey Chris! Thanks for answering my questions. Trish doesn't know what she's missing :) I was surprised not to see Ghost Hunters in your list of T.V. shows. I thought I remembered you blogging that you liked it - although lately I have to say that it has been getting more and more challenging to believe. Thoughts? Again - have a good week :) Julie

No, no, thank YOU Julie.

I've sort of lost the love for these Ghosthunters shows because there's been no evolution. Shows are still being built around the bald guy and the tired looking guy getting much too worked up over inaudible whispers and half-assed shadows being caught just off-camera. By now, I want flying dishes and swinging cabinet doors and... and goddam Satan himself showing up and throwing maggots with razor sharp teeth at everyone! They still talka bout "Non-human" entities wandering about but they don't EXPLAIN WHAT THE CHRIST THAT MEANS!!

There sticking with the basics and not going further... they're looking for God and REFUSE TO ADMIT IT!! It's annoying.

And now we have two other shows running around. Paranormal State which has this adorable college kid doing serious investigations and his show's big thing is that they claim "Dead time" is 3:00 am... 12 hours from when Christ finally said, "Ahhh, I'm outta here." and checked out ad all the ghost action happens then. That show is too edited for me to really buy... although that kid is smart enough to have a psychic show up to ominously say, "Something bad is over there. Its not happy." whenever things get boring for too long. But that's only a good show in small doses.

THEN we have Ghost Adventurers starring three young dudes, the leader who's main goal seems to be to wear the tightest t-shirt possible whenever the cameras are on. This guy goes the macho route, where whenever something happens far away from the camera, he runs over and shouts, "You want to push someone, PUSH ME!!! LET'S GO!!!!" Then they over-act like crazy too whenever the smallest thing happens. "Did you hear that?? A moan?? DID WE GET THAT MOAN ON AUDIO!! DID WE!! HOLY MOTHER OF... THIS IS AMAZING!!!" I remember one episode they locked themselves in a haunted hotel overnight and got so freaked out over something they all jumped out a window. Then the Ghosthunters crew worked the same hotel and were all like... "meh, a few things here and there but... bleh."

Basically, same old stuff. Bring on the new and I'll be right back there every week.

Oh, and Trish is... well... she does what she thinks is best. She's horribly WRONG most of the time, but doesn't listen.

(I had something much meaner to say but I deleted it. I am a good person.)

3) October 14, 2009 11:04 AM... KC said... Question number one... Hyatte, could you in any way be considered bisexual? Question number two... Hyatte, does your line of work involve looking after or advising member of the public?

I can in no way, shape, or form be considered a bisexual. I like women. I like boobies. I like nice, long, shiny hair. I like the way they smell after you work them over for an hour. And they are cheap to feed. Most girls don't eat alot.

I think men are gross. And they DO eat... we eat a LOT. They'll kill you with bar tabs and at restaurants.

I have no clue what the second part mean, but yes, part of my job involves advising people.

4) October 14, 2009 11:20 AM... Anonymous said... Has contact with another male ever caused you to ejaculate? Ever visited gay porn sites?

I've never had hard-core contact with another male...

Let's just say I STUMBLED across a gay site or two and... well, you're alone at home, the shades are drawn, you're intellectually curious... SOMETIMES YOU WANT TO CLICK AROUND A LITTLE BIT JUST TO SEE WHAT'S WHAT!!!

5) October 14, 2009 3:31 PM... Eric said... Hey Hyatte, just heard Captain Lou was dead. Makes me feel blue. Still, 76 ain't bad in this business.

HA!!! What I love is that the WWE gave Captain Lou a full blown parting segment complete with the warm music and career-covering video and the big smile at the end because the Captain had a happy life in wrestling and WELL DONE, CAPTAIN LOU!!

Which, of course, is McMahon-code for, "See!! He died of NATURAL CAUSES!! Old and fat and NOT FROM SOME O'D!! FINALLY, SOMEONE DIED AND IT ISN'T A P.R. NIGHTMARE! VOTE LINDA IN 2010!!"

Heh, they must've been so RELIEVED when a well-known star from way back actually had the decency to die naturally. Usually its assholes like Test who fall face first into their pizza with a laboratory-worth of junk in their system.

As for Captain Lou.... I'll say this, growing up in the heart of the WWF territory, the man had a way of making EVERYONE feel like his close friend. EVERYONE knew him, EVERYONE was a bud. He got around.

So yeah, let's tip a glass of Virgin Goat milk in honor of the old Captain... who never, EVER sold a punch for anyone. (Really, he would just stand there and rock his head back and forth whenevr someone laid into him. Then he's rake their face and kick them for 10 minutes.)

6) October 14, 2009 5:39 PM... Ed said... ever jackoff while driving? do you jackoff more than 4 times a week?

No. Howard Stern never had anything sexy or hot enough to get me to fish into my pants and start tugging. I DO need some sort of relaxation before going to town.

4 times a week? Shit, I usually have number 3 finshed before breakfast. SHO'NUFF BIATCHES!!! LATE 30'S AND STILL GOES LIKE A TEENAGER, YOU LIMP LITTLE FUCKHEADS!!!!

7) October 15, 2009 12:15 PM... Moonage Daydream said... Ever been to Phantom Farms in Cumberland?

Hey baby. Sure, when its time for Hy8's famous apple pie. Stay away from the fudge, tho'... it's nasty and your heart and arteries will basically say, "Are you fucking KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT???"

How do you know about my local apple orchery? You're in TEXAS!! Did you googleearth my town?? Do you research me? Like Trish does but thinks I don't know?

Flattered baby, but I'm pretty sure the guy you are with is packing more than me.

8) October 15, 2009 5:14 PM... FLEA said... Is Rush Limbaugh's ixnay for NFL Ownership a result of bad karma? Is Rush Limbaugh's ixnay for NFL Ownership a result of pushing your luck to far in a public display of wanting to own a black man?
FLEA

Whassup. Fletcher. I actually miss our phone calls. Rectification coming in 2010.

This is old news, but still, it just goes to show our world these days.

Limbaugh has been on the air for decades... working through his fourth administration. If you listen to him, you know tha he barely takes a breather. His radio shows are 90% him going on and on and barely exchanging words with his callers. He's been doing this for a loooong time and has said TENS OF MILLIONS OF WORDS.

And no one has ever called him a racist until he made one comment on his first day as a football analyst.

He said that Eagles QB Donovan McNab wouldn't get have the praise he gets if he was white. It's a dumb comment, silly, and pointless. It's the type of comment one makes when they have nothing to add but wants to contribute something never said on- air before.

He's not racist, El Rushbo, he just made a classic rookie mistake that someone making the kind of money they contracted him for would make to earn the money.

But I see why people got upset. Years ago, Isiah Thomas, during a press conference, said that if Larry Bird was black he'd be just another basketball player. It bothered me because it cheapened everything Bird had done by then. It dismissed all of his hard work with a casual flick. And it played a card that didn't have to be played.

That's why it got Rush fired from his football gig (ESPN, I think). It wasn't necessary, and it was pointless, and it went somewhere that didn't need to be.

But NOW... Rush is Rush... the White House hates him... he spends 3 hours a day pointing out everything negative about President Obama... non-stop... hour anfter hour... day after day.

In this day and age... where we Americans are still enchanted by our new President... who is taking proactive steps to chenge things around (and yes, some steps aren't working), Rush is an easy target to hate on. We are in a mostly liberal media world these days... and poor Rush tried to step outside his radio station, where only people who agree with him are allowed to call in, and buy a football team.

And they kicked his ass right off the field. In Obama's world, if you cause a ruckus, you get a bullseye on your back.

Don't blame the media either... they just spent 8 years watching Bush and Cheney and Rumsfeld dispense nothing but the barest of information, carefully controlled. They buried us in 2 wars... the first one was used as a springboard for the second, more profitable one. They let the banks go crazy and nobody could afford their homes anymore.

And they let GM and Chrysler literally destroy the American automobile market... and the city of Detroit.

And they took their time before acknowledging that Hurrican Katrina almost flattened New Orleans. Totally dragged ass.

So its no wonder they are pissing on the most conservative, popular radio talk show host in history when he looked into investing into an NFL team. Just desserts.

Besides, Rush does own a black man already. His executive producer is a brother, I believe.

Flea, shouldn't you be in Cuba by now? And what are you going to do with your last 10 months?

9) October 15, 2009 8:53 PM... Anonymous said... So I know... more 411 bs... But given what you know, is AJ Grey actually one of the other "writers" on 411? If no, is it a group of them doing the AJ Grey thing?Yeah I know... but no one on 411 will answer and if fucking bugs me
- Ted Kennedy's Ghost

Well, let's start by saying the obligatory "I Don't Fucking Care" and, of course, "Who is AJ Grey anyway??" I'll spare the lecture on how I don't go to 411 anymore (I really don't).

But here's the funny part, the "writers" at 411 whom you asked didn't asnwer you because they probably don't know either. I used to get this at Scoops all the time... there isn't a home office where kids write wrestling columns at their desks and play X Box tournies while Larry (Fraud) Csonka yells about deadlines and Ashish complains about money and dreams of the pickled fish he'll have for dinner that night (he's an Indian... they are like that). They are imbeciles who write columns at home in their spare time "for the love of the business" (because they feel like Meltzer!!) and submit the barely proofread columns immediately to 411's submission matrix where someone posts it a few hours later on the main page.

This was actually one of Widro's better ideas... an online submission area so I know my columns were formatted the way I wanted them... where I USED to mail it to Widro who would send it to someone named PK who would just cram the column in without looking at it to make sure it looked reasonable.

They don't socialize, is what I'm saying. They don't gather together as a group and hang out. They barely know or care about each other.

And trust me, Ashish is one humorless, boring motherfucker. Unimaginative, too. He just owns the site and lets everyone lese do most of the work. For free. If he made any real money from this I'd call him a genius.

10) October 18, 2009 4:56 PM... Todd said... Have you ever written anything longer than the novella about the two young brothers who discover a mysterious hole in the ground? I preferred your original version of the short story about a guy who loses his soul to Devil playing cards in Las Vegas. Do you think your revised version of that story was an improvement?

Yes I did. But I liked the Hole. I should find it and look at it again. Probably can use a good trimming.

The revised version of... Jesus, I forgot the name of the story... had good chunkery removed and extra stuff that filled a decent size plot gap. I should find that one too... although its a bit formulaic.

Problem with all this is that no one publishes unknown short stories anymore.


11) October 22, 2009 6:44 PM... Todd said... You wrote a story about hot teenage girl who got off on killing and torturing small bugs, insects, and fish. Did you base that character on anyone real? Are sick of me asking questions about all your old stories?

The joke is that the girl in the story was totally pre-crach habit Chasey Lain. I liked the imagery of an amazing hottie porn star who gets off on blowing up bugs in a microwave.

Not many people know about these stories, dude... so either you are Josh Grut in disguise, or someone who Grut showed these stories to when I had them here and wasn't telling anyone about it.

Then again, it was years ago... maybe I did get drunk one night and you caught me on AIM. Who knows.

12) November 4, 2009 3:34 PM... marvin dorfler said.... 1988 is there a more depressing year in the entire decade?

Heh... 2008 wasn't all that hot. THIS year ain't all that fun either. I know I don't have anyone reading from Detroit... probably because all the computers have been stolen already... but read a few news articles about what's going on there lately. It's goddam I Am Legend except what comes out at night is far, FAR worse then zombie/vampires.

Oh, and just to show off that I know the reference... "MARVIN, MARVIN!! LOOK OUT!!" then WHACK... you fall for it every time.

"That's right, now here are two words for you: Shut The Fuck Up"

DeNiro was doing comedy LOOOONG before Ben Stiller came into his life.


13) November 8, 2009 1:06 PM ... Anonymous said... After reading that, I have decided that you're nothing more than a fucking tool. Been reading a few years but I'm done. Thanks for the good times, it's a fucking shame they didn't last.

It took you a few years to realize this? HA!! You fucking moron.

Again, I have to explain this periodically. None of you were invited here. You found me, I didn't advertise and didn't come around asking for you to read. I don't mind having you stop by and read, its flattering, but this isn't a column.

THIS. IS. NOT. A. COLUMN.

I am not required to fetch more and more readers to a site. This is my little home and I keep it because I don't do Facebook, Myspace, or Twitter. If I did, and kept you all as "friends", would this mean you would take yourself off my friend's list? Mr Tough Guy? Mr. I'M DONE WIT'CHO, HYATTE!!?

No, you wouldn't.

But read, don't read. I don't care. The less comments I get, the less I feel I have to post.

Well... okay... I DO care... a little, but fucking trust me, I'm not losing a drop of sleep over your outrage and disappointment.

Oh, and once upon a time, this blog was for a party of one... but she turned assholish. Now its mostly for Flea to have something to read once in a while.


14) November 9, 2009 4:29 PM... Gray said... Hey douchenozzles- The whole "I hate you, you suck, I'm leaving" shtick stopped working about 5 years ago. He isn't doing this for you. Or me. Actually, I'm not sure why he is or is not doing whatever it is he calls this.

I'm doing it because I might have need for some of you and any particular connections/advice you might have. For instance, I have this graphic novel idea that I'm starting notes on. Might lead nowhere, might be actually something. When/if I'm ready, its nice to have this place to seek directions on who'd be open for a pitch. Shit like that.

15) November 10, 2009 12:53 PM... Anonymous said... Chris - in a serious vein, what are your thoughts on the shooting at Ft Hood here in Texas and do you think we are just seeing the beginning of something horrible?

No, we are just barreling through life like always. Shit like this has been happening for decades... we just didn't have the 10 24 hour news channels and constant online news sites to saturate their stations with coverage.

All privacy other then our own deepest, darkest secrets are a thing of the past... and even our deepest and darkest are just stuffed in closets with really cheesy locks.

If Matt Drudge and the Internet were around in the 30's... not a day would go by where he wouldn't splash FDR's face on his news site with some criticism. If Perez Hilton and the Internet was around in the 40's, every day he'd make several posts about Sinatra getting drunk and stumbling out of various nightclubs.

Of course, Sinatra would have tire irons shoved up Perez's ass, but that's another story.

It's always been here... crazy people snapping and doing bad things... they just can't hide it anymore. It's all out there, in the open, for all to see.

You know who's lucky? Bruce Willis. He was a MAJOR party hound back in the 80's... if he were just two generations younger and his career exploded just 15 years later... he'd NEVER get away with the shit he presumably got away with back during his Moonlighting days.

And Fergie's marriage is already almost OVER!! At least it had passion and fire for a few months. I know girls who marry off strictly for business/practical reasons. Poor things.

I'll leave you with this. A funny story that I am shamelessly stealing from this site:

A few days ago I was having some work done at my local garage. A blonde came in and asked for a seven-hundred-ten. We all looked at each other and another customer asked, "What is a seven-hundred-ten?"

She replied, "You know, the little piece in the middle of the engine, I have lost it and need a new one." She replied that she did not know exactly what it was, but this piece had always been there.

The mechanic gave her a piece of paper and a pen and asked her to draw what the piece looked like. She drew a circle and in the middle of it wrote 710.

He then took her over to another car which had its hood up and asked "Is there a 710 on this car?"

She pointed and said, "Of course, its right there."

This is what she pointed to...








No idea if this is a true story... but I wouldn't doubt it.

I'm going to add a few more comments over the next couple of days. It'll be right under this picture so you can find it easy. No, really, I will. I PROMISE... SCOUT'S HONOR!!

Meanwhile, Happy Thanksgiving, you ungrateful trouts.

Fresh Bloggery

Is coming.

It's not like I've lost the love for this blog... it's just that I've been terribly busy lately and posting countless words that ultimately ends up disappointing you because it ain't the Mop-Up isn't on my list of major to-dos.

Plus my muse has abandoned me, and is being a world class bitch.

BUT, I have formatted a bunch of comments and will proceed to answer them when I have a few monments here and there. Then I'll dump them all in a big ol' post and you'll read them and find you have nothing to add and after ten days or so some asshole will show up and scream, "SEE HYATTE!! NO ONE COMMENTS!!! GO AWAY AND NEVER COME BACK!!!" And I'll think of something else very innovative to do here and everyone will post and the cycle will continue.

So keep checking in. It'll be up sooner rather than later.

Ladies Love Cool Hy: The Early Years

This year, I refused to give out treats of any kind to kids for Halloween.

This year, whenever they knocked on my door, and blare out, "TRICK OR TREAT!!", I'd stroke my chin and say, "Nah, no treats. I want a trick. I want to see what you little bastards can come up with!! TRICK!! TORTURE ME!! MAKE ME PAY, YOU LITTLE TOOLS!!"

Many of them cried. The more intelligent ones realizes their bluff had been called and walked away defeated but dry-eyed.

But no one egged my place. No toilet paper hit my trees. My car remained paint-free.

I made my stand the other night. I said no 5-10 year old was going to get one over on ME! Their little heads couldn't POSSIBLY come up with a "trick" to screw me over. I'd ALWAYS outwit them.

Hyatte 1 Halloween 0

Besides, all I had was apples and razor blades. And boy, you should've SEEN the look on the cashier's face when I had her rind those bad boys up at the supermarket. That was all I bought that day, apples and razorblades... and was singing Miley Cyrus.... very, very softly....

"the last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down, I st st stutering when you asked what I'm thinking 'bout, felt like I couldn't breath, you asked what's wrong with me, my best friend Leslie said 'oh, she's just being Miley.

"The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself, my heart can rest 'till then..."

Then I would SCREAM "WHOA WHO I!! I CAN'T WAIT, TO SEE YOU AGAIN!!!"

I need to stop doing my food and sundry shopping drunk.

Anyway, that was my Halloween. Plus me and the girlfriend watched us both "Kill Bill" movies. She's a fiend for female empowerment flicks.

******************************

Little tale from my past. There's a LITTLE punching up just to heighten the storytelling, but i swear to you, the following is all true.

1988. It was a time of Max Headroom and Micheal J Fox, and Lethal Weapon 2, Kirstie Alley on Cheers, and Jack as the Joker, and Moamar Quaddaffi, and the second half of Reagannomics, and "Just Say No", and Poison, and Bon Jovi, and the Crue, and Ratt, and the Scorpions, and young men all over the country wondering just when David Lee Roth would return to Van Halen...and hopes and dreams...

And your boy Hyatte with his STYLING 1980 puke green Monte Carlo. The dream car, the ride, the gift from his mother for good grades.

Unfortunately, my idea of good grades wasn't exactly my mother's. She gave me the car anyway. She had no choice, the auto shop where she had it kept brought it over because a big snowstorm was coming and he needed the room. THANKS MA!!!

High school was over, for good. Summer was here, and Hyatte had his crew. Nothing worth bragging about, just a bunch of geeks who knew each other's beats and had the same agenda in mind: let's have some fun before college, or the army, began. Let's party, drink, chow down, and have as much fun as this barren fucking state which was a few years from allowing 18 and over crowds into the clubs on certain nights would allow a bunch of guys with little to no money.

So, naturally, we hit as many town parties as we could.

Town parties were set up as followed: get as many people as possible inside and drinking before the cops showed up to break it up, because when the cops came, half the party would dive out of various windows and run for their LIVES. The ones who stayed usually ended up getting laid because the cops usually showed up, told us to keep it down, then left because they didn't have much to do there. Not when the host of the party was smart enough to hide the beer.

But this was suburbia and white suburban kids were usually terrified of the cops and didn't know that the cops had little stroke other than to issue stern verbal warnings before shucking off to the next party they needed to break up. Suburban kids scared easy.

It was a warm June Saturday. There we were, moping around the parking lot of our town's Burger King. There was Matt, Scott, Todd (who we called "Hector" for no reason I can think of), Dave, Steve, and Bill. Others came an gone, flitted in and out, but this was the core.

Not quite geeks, but note the lack of girls mentioned.

Were there virgins in our group? Yup. Was I one? NO!! Was I a playa? Was "Playa" even a term in 1988? No and No.

In high school, you sort of understand that nothing that goes on in there will mean a damn thing the moment you get out. You understand it - but your raging hormones and developing intellectual and emotional mind can't quite handle it. That four year slice of life grooming you go through just merely forces you to understand that we're going to spend the rest of our lives wandering around with other people who think and behave differently. It also gives you the first glimpses at the other sex, and how to talk to them. Some catch on quicker then others.

It took Hyatte a while to catch on, but for when I was a junior, in 1987, I had a long-term girlfriend that lasted almost 16 whole months. Her name was Polly, and she was patient with me. Then she was accepted to some University out in California... like, really, REALLY early... so I was dumped a few months into my senior year. I was cool with it. I figured I'd scoop another one up before the year was over. No problemo.

Didn't work out that way, for various reasons. Ah well.

So, there we were, my crew, on a warm June afternoon, kicking the hackey-sack around and wondering what we were going to do to kill another summer day. None of us had girlfriends simply because without school, and without 18 and under clubs, where the hell were they??

That's another kick in the balls high school doesn't tell you about. It's tougher to pick up girls when they aren't jammed against you in crowded classrooms and lunch cafeterias. Out in the real world, they tend to hide unless you got pot, beer, and a house with no parents.

Somewhere during the great BK Hackey-Sack Session, which was looking to be the main event for the evening, Matt saw someone he knew going through the BK Drive-thru and waved at him. I didn't know the kid but he waved Matt over. I heard matt yell, "Whattaya doin' scrubba?" Matt called everyone "scrubba". It was a term of endearment. Minutes later he returned and said, "Party tonight."

The hackey-sack hit the ground with a soft PLOP. Someone missed the side kick. Okay, it was me. Fuck off. I was never very good at hackey-sack and that stupid little beanball never made it very deep into the 90's, DID IT???

So we had something to do later that night. A PARTY!! To this day I forgot who threw it. But I DO remember that the kid's parents would be there... so coke and fruit punch would be the strongest thing there. We would need Scott's brother Herb (Yes, HERB!) to pick us up some Purple Passion, and maybe some Everclear.

And maybe some weed.

But, that was hours away. We still had the rest of the late afternoon to kill before we all took off to shower and get ready. We all stood around wondering what to do.

Hector picked up the hackey-sack and started the circle. I only fucked up the flow 6 times. Fucking hackey-sack.

I almost got laid at the party.

So we made it and the father had the grill going and the mother was serving drinks and Herb is being a dickface and only bought two sixes of Schlitz... and half a roach he found in his sock drawer. Barely anything. Steve thought his parents kept an unopened bottle of Peppermint Schnapps buried deep in their basement bar at his house... but he was too much of a pussy to try to steal it. Which, sort'a made me wonder why he would bring up the subject in the first place... but Steve was a clas-a pussy anyway. Always had been. Probably still is. Probably still has all of his babyfat too... heh. HA!! Creep.

Anyway. The party was a cook-out, set up in the backyard. A small backyard as far as backyards go, but nice... with fences blocking both sides and a natural, white-rock hill forming a back wall and some good sized evergreen trees forming a front line in front.. The parents had set up spotlights in front of said evergreens which was in front of said white-rock wall and they were BRIGHT... BRIGHT AS THE SUN!!

So there we were, all dressed up in... oh like I remember what anyone was wearing!! All I know is that I bought all my clothes from "Chess King" and I was CUTTING EDGE!! The jeans were Levis, the shoes were... umm.... sandals, yeah, it was Summer. The shirt had Judas Priest on the front from a concert I never went to but wore the shirt to school the day after he played in town just to look like I did. The hair was washed and fresh and brown and ALL THERE. And feathered right down the middle and LOVELY. We all were ready for some FUN, some MUSIC, and maybe some female contact... maybe.

But first, I had to piss.

"Go behind the trees, behind the lights," the host... who's face I remember (sort of looked like a rabbit with dysentery) but damn if I can remember his name. "The lights are facing the house so no one will see you."

"Why can't I just use your toilet in the house?" I asked. I would've called him "dude" but the word hadn't made it to New England in the late 80's yet. I may have called him "Scrubba" but can't recall.

"My sister's all perioding and shit," he said. "She's locked herself in there. She's being a wicked princess."

"Don't you have a second bathroom?" I asked.

"Just use the trees, peckerhead," he said.

So I did. And the privacy WAS quite nice. I took note of it. And from then on, behind the trees and behind the spotlights became known as the bathroom.

About an hour or so later, the party was actually pretty good. Lots of people were there. At two instances I remember overhearing the mother complain that she didn't buy enough food for these many kids. Me and the crew were all hanging out, laughing away, goofing on each other, other people, telling blown up stories from the last four years of high school without worrying if we were repeating ourselves. Scott (who had a red afro, yes.) had beaten MMA by about 8 years as HE was the first person to "Tap Out" whenever he started laughing so loud he had to stop. He'd start bawling with laughter, put his head to the table, and slam his hand three times on the table then wave himself off. Match over,

Okay... so its more of a wrestling three count... BUT HE TAPPED WHILE TITO ORTIZ WAS STILL HELPING HIS POPPA MOW LAWNS!!! BLOW ME!!

Anyway, I had gotten up to make myself another lovely Schlitz and Coke spritzer when a girl came up to me and started talking. A cute girl with long, sandy brown hair and a wide smile. I never saw her before.

"How's it going?" she asked.

"ACES, BABY!! I shoutes!! No, I kid. "Good," I said. "What's up?"

"Not much," she said. "I'm freaking out."

I smiled and stretched my arms out as if I just woke up from a nap... showing off the guns. "How come?"

"My ex-boyfriend just showed up and I don't want to see him. I don't want him to bother me." She looked behind her and then looked back at me. "So I'm just going to talk to you until I figure something out."

Immediately, I knew I was gong to kick some ex-boyfriend ass!! Unless he was bigger than me... or older... or black. "Well," I said, "what do you want to do?"

She looked around. "My friends are here and they don't want to leave. I just want to hang low until he leaves. I don't think he's going to stay, no one he knows is here."

And suddenly, a brilliant, beautiful lightbulb popped in my head... as bold as NEON!!

As bold as... spotlights.

"I know what to do," I said. "I can sneak you out of here and he won't see you." I started walking backwards. "Come on," I said.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I said. "And you're coming with me."

She completely froze in her tracks. In a split second her mouth went from gentle, nice smile, to full-out rictus of fear and outrage and horror. "Holy shit," she said. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!! No! No! No!" She started to back away from me.

I knew I fucked it up. But I tried to recover. "No, not that, I mean we can go into the trees back there and..."

"Oh God, get away from me!" She said, and then whipped around on a dime and RAN... full throttled SPRINTED out of the backyard and out of the gate. I'm pretty sure she decided her ex-boyfriend wasn't THAT bad right there and then.

I watched her go, and felt terrible for a full minute... then shrugged my shoulders and went back to my crew... none of whom had witnessed this.

So of COURSE, my plan was to walk her to the corner of the yard behind the spotlights so her ex couldn't see her, and then loop to the far side of the party and just hang out until she felt more comfortable. Of course. No, really.

But suddenly, it was like I was inviting this nice girl I knew for all of 90 seconds to go somewhere and give each other golden showers... or worse things...

I learned an important lesson that night. I learned the word "bathroom" is NOT a safe word to use with a girl you met a minute ago. I learned that chicks are not going to trust you after exchanging maybe 25 words.

And I learned that if I wanted to get laid again, I'd better enroll in some college. And I did... a year and a half later (slow learner, am I)

I don't remember much else about that party, or the rest of the summer. I lost contect with all of those buds... except that Dave became an engineer and did get married and just totally handed his balls to his wife, possibly at the altar. Matt got married to a beastly thing and bought his parent's house and seems to run a part time towing service for a living. Scott stopped into a club I was bouncing at and he had a girlfriend and she was just as obnoxious as him.

And me? I learned those lessons well, and learned lots more as the years went on. And still plan on learning more and more. And some nights, as I lay in bed reflecting of the continuing growth of the asshole named Hyatte, As the wind softly moans in the night and I lay in bed wondering why my Lord and Savior saw fit to remove a small portion of my hairline and a GOOD portion of its luxurious brown color... I can sometimes hear the soft voice of Joe Cocker waft through the night sky...

"What would you dooooo, if I sang out of tune. Would you stand up and walk out on me. Lend me your ears and I'll... sing you a song. I will try not to sing out of keyyya. Oh baby HAVE A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS!! ALL I NEED IS MY BROTHER!! HAVE A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS!! I JUST NEED A LITTLE HEEELP HAVE A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS!! OH BABY OOOOO OOOOO OOOOOOOO"

Hope that rotten, paranoid little twat is a single mom with 15 kids... all with down's syndrome. How dare she run out on me.

Comments next time around.

And you all waited 2 weeks for this!