2005-07-28T09:56:00.000-04:00

Growing up, I might have been the only kid on the block who didn’t like summer. I was the one weird kid who actually enjoyed school. It offered me an escape. Escape from the hell that was going on at home. Everyday, it seemed to be the same thing. I’d wake up to this nasty, whooping, hacking cough. The stench of Camel cigarettes discharged that gaping whole on my mothers face, whose only deeming quality was there were very few teeth to get in the way of her dishonest, money-making ways. Living in a temperate zone, I had the joys of experiencing all two seasons of my house. Unbearably hot in summer and uncontrollably freezing in the winter. Food selection was the best, though. It was either pizza, cold pizza, or spaghetti. And an apple, for nutrition.

The house was a mess. Always. Clothes, boxes, random shit were scattered everywhere. Food soaked dishes lined the sink. I guess you could never say I was ever left home alone, if you count all the insects that shared our crummy abode. I wished for the day that someone could knock on my door and take me away. Maybe my father? Looking back, he seemed to be the glue that held this place together. At least held my mother together. True, we would never play catch, go fishing, or anything that any normal father-son partnership would. But I don’t blame him. He had a full plate just trying to deal with my mother.

And this is why I LOVED school. I wasn’t any sort of bookworm. I loved to get out of that filth, feel the wonders of air conditioning, eat hot meals that could have passed for home-cooked, ‘cause I wouldn’t have known the difference, and interact with other kids like a normal human being. By interact, I mean get picked on, shoved into lockers, or just generally ignored. At least it wasn’t home.

2005-07-26T14:33:00.000-04:00

How did this all begin I wondered, as I spooned more gruel down my horrible throat. This was not a place for me. I'm surrounded by murderers, rapists, thieves, molesters, liars, cheats, psychos, and worse of all, bars.

You see, I'm not like the others. I did nothing wrong. Nothing illegal. Nothing you couldn't write home to mom about, assuming she was home and not turning tricks on the street, earning just enough to support her drug habit...

Thats right. No Oedipus complex here. Truth is, Jenny was nothing like my mother. She was almost the complete opposite- always giving, straight-laced, a ne'er do wrong type. She studied hard in school. She held two part time jobs in college to help out her father, after losing her mother in the recent terrorist attacks. Had only MY mother held a real job...Jenny was all smiles when I'd stop by Bob's BBQ; no matter how shitty the tips were, or how busy the restaurant was...all smiles. Maybe it was her smiles that was the first attraction. Her can forget her body, though...I always thought she could've been a model. She would've been a model, had she heeded my advice.

Ah, Jenny. What good times we used to have. Tuesday would've been 3 years.

The Life and Times of Joey Books...