Saturday, June 10th, 2006

      I had a group of friends together last weekend, and we wrote a Round-Robin story. One person started, and when the next person picked it up, they were only able to see the last line of what the previous person wrote. It made for quite an interesting result, but somehow it all comes together in the end. This is the story:

      Some people believe that their soul never dies If that is true, then why do so many people live life as if they never learned anything at all? Instead of learning from their experiences, people keep repeating the same mistakes over and over and over again. Its like banging your head against a wall. In fact, isnt the definition of insanity to repeat the same thing time and time again expecting a different result? Our life is the result of a series of events that happen in childhood, that forever more effect who we are as adults.
      My name is Diego Montoya. I was born in a small fishing village just east of Popocatapetapal, Mexico. I was only 5 years old when it happened.
     The only thing I can remember was that I was wearing my favorite underwear.
And that day was the last time I saw them ever again.
      The doctors wouldn't return them to me. I asked and I asked, but they said no. I guess they are using them for science, they have them pickled in a jar somewhereoccasionally pulling them out of the formaldehyde to study the disease that had rendered me impotent. I was never the same after having them removed. Everyone told me so. I withdrew into myselfbecoming a shadow of what I once was.
     One night I just started driving
      I found myself in British Columbia twenty days later and all I remember before that was the Kholer Plumbing museum in Sheboygan Wisconsin. The leaky faucets there are to die for, but alas, it was time to move on. I had a rendezvous in Green Bay. A three hundred pounder by the name of Lucille. She was going to cost me a lot of money, but boy will she be worth it. I hear she comes from one of the best bulls in Wisconsin.
      Being that it is the last of my cash, Im going to have to milk her for all shes worth. I then ran into my Russian friend who poured me the finest 12 yr. old Scotch Ive ever had. As I sat there, I began dreaming of palm trees and beautiful ladies on the beach in Costa Rica.. If only I could get back there in hopes of finding the love of my lifea 26 yr. old little person named Sholin. She would hop up on the bar and pour a half bottle of bland tequila down my throat in hopes of scoring a big tip. These past few years working the corner of Santa Monica and Doheny have been hell. Hell, I say. My days of spritely innoncence are far gone, awash in a sordid sea of Phillipino houseboys and lascivious shopping. I was in town for only a few months. I was modeling a new line of Egyptian jeans named Giza. But I knew my time was drawing to a close. I never knew why the guys called me Fluffer. Im not sure what that means.Im a sensitve girl and I was sure I should take offense but how do you counter something you dont understand?
      Theres only one logical answer to that question: contemplation and booze. So I let him go with his sharp jab at my psyche, and stared into my glass of scotch. As the ice melted, I watched the gentle marriage of booze and water as the one floated on the other. Eventually I took a sip. It was nice. Smooth. Went down like liquid warmth toward my stomach.
      I was hoping that this last one would do it for me and that I'd be able to really let him go. Drown my sorrows, right? Not exactly. As I turned around from the bar, I saw him walk in the door with whats her face. I couldnt believe it. I dont think he recognized me since I had totally changed my hair color, lost 40 pounds and the glasses. Plus, I was sitting next to my crazy-ass friend, Gina, who wouldnt stop talking my ear off. Really, Id hoped the booze would drown HER out but no luck. The place was totally packed, surprising for a Tuesday morning. The band was rockin even though it was pouring rain out and the electricity was out. He sat with her in a dark corner and focused all his attention on her. I felt a sickening feeling a mix of longing and disgust. To think Id actually been in love with that slob. It was really mind blowing.
      The band started jamming on The Gap Bands Outstanding. Gina and I couldnt resist. We jumped up and joined the mass of bodies on the dance floor. I just loved blending into the black community feeling like I belonged, ignoring the fact that I really dont. They knew I belonged there but that I wouldnt really ever officially understand. 2 guys joined me and Gina and the booze, the lights, the heat, the music, the rhythm, the humidity of the summer rainmy mind starting swirling. I didnt care that Asshole was there. Nothing matter. Hey! The booze actually WAS starting to work.
     I knew I could always count on Uncle Jack to ease my pain.