The, fuck’em, dead


By which I mean the beatings my penis took by his overzealous hormone crazed master. I’m not

sure when I discovered that my penis could be used for more than just bathroom activities. If I

had to guess I would say eleven or twelve. I had never felt guilty about playing with myself until

I actually masturbated and sperm came from my dick. The guilt made me swear that I never do

it again. That next night I did it twice and I was still horny as hell. I am not if it was the

hormones or the masturbating itself but my dreams became increasingly sexual. For the better

part of two years my dreams were wholly of a sexual nature. I watch as much porn is I could of

course but I listened to Dr. Ruth Westheimer on the radio religiously also. I can recall this one

caller who was on to inquery about anal sex between him and his girlfriend. For the next three

months it was literally all I could think about. I had never seen porn showing that particular

sexual act and I just assumed only gay men did that. It would nearly ten years until I could work

up the nerve to ask to do that to a woman. It was worth the wait


I mentioned that my older brother was a drug addict right? At the time my mother refused to

see what her oldest boy really was. But my other brother and I knew what the fuck what was

going on with this nigga. Normally he would come over high and come down eventually around

us. I fucked hated that shit. Being asked the same question a hundred times got old quick.The

stumbling around knocking shit over. I don’t know if he had athlete’s foot or something kind of

nerological disorder but he would scratch at the top of his feet until they bleed. What really put

it over the top for me was the time he came in sober and launched off in the bathroom. I

thought he was bad before this was a whole new ball game. He went off on a tangent about

making sure you “Fuck’em with grease” At first I didn’t want to know what that meant but after

you hear something so many times you can’t help but get curious. Let’s just say drugs may loosen

some inhibitions you have to screwing the same sex. Again something I could have gone without

knowing my entire self.


My father died in Oct of 88′. My mother offered to pay my way to Tennesse but I told her I had

school to go and could not miss it. I was pretty much done with school at least in my head but I

could not fathom going to a funeral for a man I could hardly remember. I don’t go because he was a

bad man for leaving me before I was eight I just had no feelings for the man. I think my mother

was kind of proud I turned her down.

Ed stories


Before my brother began avoiding legitimate jobs like the plague he actually held a few that

must have been at least decent. The first year that we lived on 16th and Kominsky he got a car.

Unlike most men I am not a big car guy so I can tell you with a degree of uncertainity that I think

the car was a Monte Carlo 83′ to 86′ maybe. The car was pretty fucking nice to be honest. Who

had ever owned it kept it in good condition and the black finish was pretty good too. He gave

us all a ride and my mother stated that she wanted him to take her to the store to get

groceries. Ed agreed and he left. After not seeing him for the next few days my mother became

nervous. The next time we saw him he didn’t have the car anymore. He told my mother that he

drove it in a ditch and just left it there. The story sounded like bullshit because it was bullshit.

What person is going to leave a car in a ditch and just say “Oh well I guess it’s back to public

transportation for me.” when you’ve had the car less than two weeks. My mother could never

get the truth out of him as to what actually happened so we came up with our own theories as to

what transpired. We came up with two possibilities on the mystery of the vanishing car. One

was the person who sold the car to my brother was not actually the owner and either the cops

picked him up or the owner of said car found his rightful property. Two: he went on a drug

binge and sold the car for crack or heroin. I know what some of you are thinking maybe he got

car jacked ? Car jacking is nothing new where I was born and nothing to really be ashamed of if

two niggas roll up on you and put a gun to your face and threaten to blow your head off. Unless

of course you were somewhere you did not belong (crack house).


The mother’s friend lived next to us on the first floor. On the second was a woman who lived

there with her son who I am pretty sure had Down Syndrome. She was plain but had a nice pair

of tits. The two houses must have been very similar because the windows on the second floors

matched up perfectly. We normally had a blanket over the window but it must have fallen

down or something because this woman was looking in directly at me. The incident happened

in the morning while I was getting ready for school. I don’t remember not having morning wood

in those days and so I’m pretty sure I had a hard on as she watched me change my clothes to

get ready for school. I hadn’t notice someone was watching me until I had most of my clothes

on. It didn’t bother me much that a older lady was looking at me but I had kind of wished she

had been prettier looking. I told everyone about this of course and my mother seemed to be a

little pissed about. My older brother Ed went over there and fucked her. Weeks later I can

recall him telling me she was crazy and not in a good way. She would fuck him and then try

to kicked his ass seconds later. Oh well better him then me.