Rockstar Register

So, I think my earliest memories are from roughly when I was 3-- but I'm fairl certain 16 months is too early to be eating corn...
On a freakin' cob...






This baby is way overdeveloped.





Happy T you beautiful bastards...


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Yesterday evening, the night before thanksgiving, I find this in my bathroom:



This doesn't make any sense, because I'm not, nor do I live with, any 17 year old boys.




I mean, it LOOKS like an empty tp roll, but it CAN'T be, right?

When I look, puzzled at my girlfriend, to figure out what's going on, you know, to figure out whether a 17 year old boy broke in because he had an inconceivable desire, nigh a NEED to use my toilet/toilet paper (which, to be fair, IS quilted with more 50% more softness than the leading brand), she said, and I'm quoting here:

"I left it there so you'd know you needed to put more toilet paper in there!"

She said this with a huge smile, suggesting she actually thought this was appropriate.

At this point, I had a strange compulsion to headbutt a knife, but I resolved otherwise, and put on a new roll.





This is NOT okay (insert My Chemical Romance riff); if I did this at a girl's place, I'd never be invited back.

Hurm. What is a boy to do?

Happy thanksgiving err'body. This year I'm thankful for having somewhere to vent.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

So, I'm in the pharmacy the other day, picking up my prescription for Adderall, and also a box of Toblerone Tiny. I'm not sure why I've been so into Toblerone as of late, but I'm close to sure it relates to some combination of:
a) how fun it is to say "Toe-blur-own"
and
b) how much Toblerone tastes like sex feels.

that's real talk.

So, as I'm paying the requisite arm and also leg for my Toblerone (this would be a good name for a dachshund!), I notice the young lady at the register looks very familiar.

Almost like I went to high school with her.

Where I recognize her from, I can't put my finger on, but I know I know her. I just don't know how...
Okay, I know it's not in the Biblical Sense, because this is a handsome woman. Here, by "Handsome" I don't mean it like your grandfather would say it to his buddy "Mac" in the "Speakeasy" in 1924

Hey Mac, whaddaya say? That's a handsome broad over there, let's show her what for, I've got some snuff and some dentifrice I think she'd really be tickled pink by...~ your granddad

I mean handsome - so I know I didn't sleep with her. In order to protect her, let's say her name tag said her name was "Jennifer."

Then it hits me. I went to high school with this girl.

I had GYM with this girl!
Wait, gym isn't coed...

That's because, Jennifer wasn't Jennifer at all.

She's a MAN, baby.

Now maybe you laugh at my revelation that in high school, "Jennifer" was "Jed" but let's talk about awkward for a second.

You know, with certainty that this person knows who you are.
You know, with certainty that this person is or lives outside the scope what we as a society perceive to be "traditional genetic gender-lines."

It makes you think, because if in high school you were a dick, like I am was, then you probably know this person, or someone like s/him

Let me break this down for you: I was tremendously overweight in high school. It was by the grace of God that I'm not socially retarded and was able to socialize, because seriously, nobody likes fat people. In phys. ed, we always had a time of year, normally pretty close to Thanksgiving, where we'd have to "train" to run a mile.

Now, I'm in decent shape these days, I'm no Adonis, but I'm certainly not in any danger as a result of my bodyshape, but back then, running a mile for me was hell. It took no less than fourteen minutes, and to put that in perspective, I could walk a mile in about fifteen minutes back then.


This kid "Jed" couldn't do it in anywhere close to me. He made me look like a freakin' sprinter. And not just any sprinter.

I mean, I always dreaded this time of year, but I can't imagine this poor kid, he was literally winded while walking.


Now I say "this poor kid" but back then, I wasn't as sympathetic. Kids are MEAN, and gee-whillickers I was one of the meanest. I am was a famous asshole.
One day, I remember picking on this kid in PE to the point where he became so full of rage that he said, and I quote:

*huff*You're all *puff* a bunch *huff* of SKULLS!!! *puff*

He clearly didn't possess the say-things-that-hurt-people/bust-balls instinct so crucial to being a high school student.




So now, s/he's living as a woman.

It's strange, because, at the risk of sounding arrogant (like I've ever let that stop me) I wonder if I had something to do with it...

I know there's a heated debate between people who think this sorta thing is genetic or a "choice" but seriously, do you know how hard it is to be woman? They can't be President, or CEO of fortune 500 companies, or even vote (::removes tongue from cheek::) but seriously, it's harder to be a woman. So why would someone choose this?

Maybe because a bunch of incessant, relentless bullies in high school really fucked with you to the point that something, whether it was genetic or subconscious clicked and it seemed like there was no option.

Now in all likelihood, he'd always had these feelings, or at least for as long as he could remember but just struggled (side note: I say "he him s/he" with all due deference, but it's just a lot to keep track of) with how much worse the teasing would be/what his folks would think about it.

I just hope we didn't have anything to do with it. But if we did, I, for one, am truly sorry.

I don't know. You hear a lot about tolerance, and about equal rights. I don't know, well actually I DO know, how I feel about the nature/nurture debate when it comes to LGBT folks (more on that later) but I do know that I hope this "Jennifer" is doing alright. I hope s/he's happy with her life now.

Of course, I'd be lying if I said the idea as a whole doesn't creep me the fuck out.