Friday, March 27, 2009


Nights when I would come home from boy scouts in the year before the scouts asked me to leave I would come home and be afraid to go to the shed to put my bike away because it always seemed shaking or compulsed with something that knew how to lurch.

There was a light attached to the building that would come on by motion and there was another switch that made the pool light up neon blue but I would still run from the building as fast as I could.

Many nights after getting home there would be wrestling on TV and I would watch the wrestling and there would be a light on in the bathroom and you could hear other people in other rooms laugh.

I had a metal box full of perverse things I'd collected like the postcard with the woman in the shower that I bought in St. Augustine while on a trip with my family. I'd had to make a big deal to make it seem like I was going to a bookstore so that I could get away from them long enough to get the postcard, I can still see it if I close my eyes.

I had a polaroid I took of Pamela Anderson on Family Feud, she was wearing short shorts, the shot was blurry, I kept it.

I was making a scrapbook about Pamela Anderson then too, I still have it somewhere, I used the flip half of an older scrapbook that had been about the Atlanta Braves.

These are the shortest longest days ever. I wish I had not sold my Dragonlance books on eBay.

I feel a lot defeated, like something has gotten into me while I was/am still sick and has changed the way I think about everything that even a month ago I was obsessed with. Like someone turned a lock inside me to a room I'd been going to a lot and now even coffee and candy taste strange.

In the Boy Scouts there was one kid that had hurt legs and bad vision and the kids would make him play British Bulldog, a version of Smear the Queer, and he could never catch anybody so he stayed it the whole time of our recreation period every time. He never gave up.

The post I wrote about the Eagle scout who got a boner in the showers on one trip and watched everyone with it is one of the major traffic inducements for this site, I know right now he is at work at the Kroger down the street wearing the Eagle ring. I have considered getting in his line and trying to ask him about something unrelated to the ring or the boners but I think I wouldn't be able to move once I got back in my car if I did that.

If anyone has a great idea for a place to build a treehouse near me I'd like to know about it.

I wonder if I ever agree with anything that I say.

One of the days I can remember more than any other day is the day in gym we were in the smaller second building doing a bowling unit and I ended up positioned on a lane next to two of the 'rougher' kids in my class, one of them wore steel toe boots and was singing 'Polly' by Nirvana, though I didn't know it was Nirvana at the time, and he was talking about kicking another kid's head in and his friend wasn't really answering but was setting up the pins really straightly and correctly, and I remember a great sense of fear.

I hope I never get drunk again.

I hope I can lay down somewhere soon and feel alright about it.


ken baumann said...

'I wonder if I ever agree with anything that I say.'

Yes, plagued by this.

Nothing else to say except 'GET BETTER BRO', it's odd how fast the change happens within, and how often.

Chemically imperfect things.

BlogSloth said...

a great sense of fear

Steven Trull said...

You can come over to my place. I'll take of you.

jereme said...

every day is struggle.

Peter Markus said...

Blake, you should do a 'memory' book and call it "Boner."

Molly Gaudry said...

It will be okay.
It will be okay.


sam pink said...

i would buy a book called BONER without any previous knowledge of it.


Boner is so massively in the works

somethingsomethingelse said...

agh, peter markus, my writing teacher back in the day! i keep seeing your ghost on other people's blog posts ..

blake butler, your "blabber" is special.


hi alle, ty, you are special as well