Hole in the Earth

Some more prose for y'all!  Now, I realize yes, I'm just posting this because the title of this short story comes from a song by a 90's band.  That's right: motherfucking Deftones.  'Course, the song itself didn't even come out in the 90's.  Also the story has little > x < nothing to do with the lyrics, or even a literal interpretation of the title.  So far, I've presented absolutely no evidence that I didn't just poop out this story and slap a kind-of-90's thing on to name it.  I came up with the story, or its barest of bones anyway, while walking my dog and listening to this song.  The song helped establish the mood, and Chino's vocals make the song sound kinda darkly romantic, so that kinda helped get
OH JUST READ THE GODDAMN STORY

Hole in the Earth

            Boy is older than girl.  Girl is younger than boy.

            Girl is lonely.  Boy is lonely.  Girl tries to fix it.  Girl doesn’t succeed.  Boy has dog.  Boy does not have father.  Boy’s mother is lonely.  Boy’s mother drinks.

            Boy always walks dog.  Boy often sees girl.  Boy and girl never talk.  Girl always plays hide-and-go-seek with “friends”.  Girl’s always It.  Girl doesn’t like always being It.  One day, boy says to girl, “In the bushes.”  Girl’s “friends” are in the bushes.

            Boy is older.  Girl is older.  Boy has same dog.  Boy’s dog is dying.  Boy still walks dog.  Boy will join the marines once the dog dies.

            Boy often sees girl.  Girl is often with boyfriend.  Girl loves boyfriend.  Boy always sees girl in same spot, a bench by the library, with boyfriend or no.  Boy sees boyfriend in two different spots.  Boy sometimes sees boyfriend in coffee shop with different girl.  One day, boy says to girl, “Coffee shop.”  Boyfriend is in the coffee shop.

            Boy comes home.  Boy becomes police officer, detective.  Girl leaves home.  Girl chooses friends poorly.  Boy has no friends.

            Boy’s dog has died.  Boy has new dog.  Boy takes dog out to apartment stoop to smoke.  Boy smokes, not dog.  Girl smokes too.  And drinks.  And shoots.  And snorts.

            Girl always passes boy on his stoop.  Girl always comes to visit “friends”.  Girl’s “friends” move around.

            One day, girl passes boy on his stoop.  Girl is not well.  Girl has insects beneath her skin.  Girl can’t stay clean.  Girl needs to find “friends”.  Boy says to girl, “1107.”  Girl’s “friends” are not in 1107.  Girl can’t search all apartments.  Girl’s “friends” get busted.  Girl does not.

            Boy’s colleagues are dirty.  Girl’s “friends” get away.  Girl disappears.

            Boy finds girl.  Girl’s at “friend’s” house.  Girl’s on couch.  Girl’s scared.  Girl whispers to boy, “Closet.”  Boy turns to closet.  Boy moves, shot misses.  Boy’s shot doesn’t.  Boy and girl leave.

            Boy always takes dog out to stoop to smoke.  Boy smokes, not dog.  Boy never sees anyone.  Boy got no press.  Boy thinks about moving.

            One day, boy sees girl.  Girl doesn’t walk past to see “friends”.  Girl no longer has “friends”.  Girl stops in front of boy.  Boy is smoking.  Dog is wagging.  Girl says to boy, “Hi.”  Boy is never lonely again.  Neither is girl.

Oh, don't like love stories?  Well TOO BAD AND GET OVER IT.

Twatbucket.

How Many Juggalos Have I Actually Met?

Juggalos are like happy marriages, celebrities, and rainbows (and I don't mean sissy rainbows like you can get if you like, use your watch or something; I mean like a full-blown, arch over the world, there's-a-pot-of-gold-at-the-end-of-that-shit rainbow).  Everyone knows they exist and everyone loves to talk about them (or in this case make fun of them), but how many do you really see in a lifetime?  I asked myself this the other day, and I realized that number is far lower than I expected.

We talk about Juggalos and their weird, ridiculous, generally-unacceptable behavior (and the fact that they like ICP) and relentlessly make fun of them and demonize them as if they're a threat.  That's weird to me.  Why?  If something's a threat, that usually has to mean that there's a kind of lot of them, or it, whatever we're talking about.  I've met... I think it's less than 10?  That's just assuming every person I've met who likes ICP warrants being called a "Juggalo", even if they don't identify as such (don't go 'WOOP WOOP', don't wear the warpaint, don't have anything with that little hatchet dude on them, etc.).

1) A friend of mine from high school (yes, I was very close friends with a maybe-Juggalo; no, our friendship didn't end when I found out about it)
2 & 3) These two weird chicks from high school that are like 2-3 years younger than me, knew them through a couple mutual friends
4) Some guy I met while I was stuck in Milwaukee after a night at SummerFest (and he was quite a nice dude, might I add), a story which will probably wind up being an entry somewhere down the line
5) A high-school age friend of mine whom I met last year in college, who has otherwise phenomenal musical taste and skill
6 & 7) Two chicks I met on OKCupid

There you go, seven.  Seven Juggalos.  Ah-ah-ah.

So maybe I just haven't met the Juggalos that everyone loves to hate, the crazy Detroit natives who run around doing all the meth in sight and, I don't know, being naughty, whatever it is.  And before I continue, let me just say I am in no way defending the music these people listen to.  Cuz Jesus H. Jiminy do I fucking hate it.  But who the hell am I to hate the fans?  I absolutely hate Attack Attack, but some of my very closest friends listen to them, and before you say "Yeah well they don't have that kind of fucked-up subculture backing them", go type "scene kid" into Google Image right now.

Okay, getting off track.  Point being, chillax; hate the music all you want, but before you go posting a "meme" like this (don't worry, it doesn't actually show a baby's corpse):
http://motivateurself.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/dead-juggalo-baby.jpg
(and by the way, that wasn't from the backwater of the internet from the same dark corner as snuff films and furries; that was openly circulating on Facebook just a few months back) please remember, these are people.  Hilarious, probably-smelly, usually-delinquent people with iffy tastes, but people nonetheless.  See? I like making fun of them too!  But the hate's getting a little scary.

Uh... that's it. Wow, I need to work on ending these.