Monday, October 25, 2010

First Blog Post Ever

It's been suggested to me many times that I start a blog. Up until now I've never even considered it because most of the people suggesting it have been goofs and I don't take advice from goofs. It just so happens though that while I was in Argentina last week someone whose opinion I actually respect suggested it so here we go. Naturally I've got writer's block now so I googled my name and found a few stories I wrote online years ago that some other douchebag copied and pasted onto some forum that I've never even visited. I vaguely remember writing them and they're presented here in a pretty random order because I definitely can't remember when I wrote them or why. Here they are anyway.

Nerds can be pretty dangerous when they want to be. I've only ever been to one nerd party. That might not be true, I went to three different parties at that house but only the last one was truly nerdy.
The first party was more or less uneventful. I got into a fight in the kitchen with a friend who likes to snap punches right in front of your face. He'll do it to anybody whether he knows them or not and has the quickest cheap shot of anyone I know. So he was doing it to me in the kitchen and I decided to do it back to him. We went back and forth pretending to punch each other in the face and it culminated in me putting him in a headlock and holding him there on the floor until right before he was about to pass out.
I kept saying to him, "I'm going to let you up, but you better not swing at me."
Deep down, I knew he was still going to want to fight me but I didn't want to strangle him unconscious because we were friends. I was, however, pretty worried about that cheap shot. He could easily knock me out if he caught me on the chin and with how drunk I was he had every opportunity to land it. He came at me again but the kitchen got swarmed with people to break it up. I ended up with his car keys and scored a ride home anyway.
Second party there was a little bit worse, depending on who you talk to. We were doing lines in one of the upstairs bedrooms and I wanted another beer. Being the thoughtful mother fucker that I am, I asked if anyone else needed one too. I ended up coming back with five or six beers cradled in my arms like firewood. These were really steep and tall stairs and I was concentrating on every step so as not to fall down and break all these bottles. But on the final step, I tripped. I did manage to turn myself around in mid-fall and land on my back, saving the beer. Some asshole comes out of his room and starts bitching at me about something. I couldn't even understand him at first.
"Check it out. I saved the beers," I stated proudly.
"Blah blah blah," the fuckin' guy is mumbling.
"I saved the beers!" I say again.
"You put your head through the wall!"
Sure enough, there was a hole in the wall about the size of my head right where I landed. The owner of that house had been a friend since high school. We had grown apart in recent years because he seemed to prefer more "intellectual" company but I still considered us friends. I offered to pay for the hole to get patched. When I knocked on his room to tell him about it he answered the door naked after the third knock and had a girl under the sheets on his bed and just didn't seem too much like he wanted to deal with it at the time.
Third party. Supposedly this was going to be the biggest keg party ever at his house. Everybody was invited. Everybody but me. I phoned fairly early and he told me to call back later and he would let me know, depending on how full the house was, if I could come or not. Every time I phoned back later there was no answer so I called Madman Willis' cellphone.
"Does Hurley not hear the phone or is he just being a dick?"
"No, he hears the phone, he's just being a dick."
"Well, I'm coming to that party and I'm bringing Robin!"
Robin is the equivalent of bringing a bomb to a party. One of the most violent and volotile people I know. He was the "bird" of our group in high school, the guy we all picked on. You know, every group has one. He didn't get into the university he wanted so, over the course of one year, he transformed himself into a gangster rap guy. And all of a sudden he loved to fight. He's stabbed quite a few people in the East End. One time after he kicked the shit out of some old guy in a parking lot we found an eyelid in his shoe.
Well, I show up with Robin and a bottle of Wild Turkey, also known as Liquid Glen. The shit is gonna hit the fan tonight. This party was like no other party I'd ever been to. There were a lot of people there but most of them were these nerds who I'd never met before. At most parties, small talk is pretty much all the same. Stories about banging chicks or punching out guys abound and that's great because everybody's always got a story. But instead of bragging about how tough they are, these guys all seem to be bragging about how smart they are. One girl started reciting Shakespeare in the living room. I was becoming more and more enraged with each passing moment.
Once my bottle was empty I was ready to either break something or clock somebody and was just weighing the different options in my mind as to where to start when a nerd asked me if I want to go outside and smoke a joint. So a few of us go out and get high and talk for a while. It's a miracle! I started to calm down. Maybe these nerds aren't such bad guys after all. A bit pretentious for my liking and I wouldn't go out of my way to ever hang out with them again but probably not worth pounding the piss out of. When I got back inside I whispered to Robin, "Forget about tonight."
He must have been having a pretty good time too because he seemed to agree. He had brought his conventionally attractive girlfriend with him and she was getting hit on left and right but he didn't seem to mind at all. And obviously, she didn't mind either. So another hour or so goes by without incident.
Just as we were leaving. I was already down the stairs and on the front lawn when Robin, standing in the doorway, turns around and pops some random nerd in the jaw. Before I can even start to laugh this whole pile of nerds comes rolling down the stairs and starts kicking Robin all over the lawn like a soccer ball. And there's more and more of them spilling out the door to join in. Well, I'm picking up nerds and throwing them over my shoulder to try and get to Robin. With every nerd I toss, at least three more come around from behind me. No one was attacking me though, they were all going after Robin. An endless swarm of nerds, it was almost like the beginning of Romper Stomper. It's a good thing those fuckers are out of shape because I think they got tired before I did beacuse eventually I was able to start thinning out the herd and narrow the beating down to Robin and one other guy. Robin lost that fight but, in his defense, he did get stomped all around the yard right before. A cab pulls up out of nowhere and I throw Robin's girlfriend into it. Somebody else throws Robin in after her, then he tries to block me from getting in. I knew if I didn't get in this cab there was a pretty good chance I would suffer the same fate that Robin just had. I made eye contact with the guy and he says, "Are you going with them?"
"Yeah," I answered.
He moved his arm and I dove in. I've never looked at a nerd the same way again.

I took one of those online IQ tests once. I got 140-something but I don't put much stock in any of those online tests. Besides, high IQ or low IQ, whatever marketable skills I might have in this world remain exactly the same.
I remember being tested all the time between grades one and nine. I never did any work in school, almost never handed anything in, but I would always do well on the tests. This offended the faculty, I guess, because it's not fair to the kids who bust their ass day in and day out only to fail those same tests. So I'd have to leave the class every once in a while and go to an isolated room with one woman or another who would put me through this or that test so see if there was anything right or wrong about me. Turned out I was actually pretty smart. Believe me, I wouldn't have guessed it either.
My grade one teacher wanted to fail me. He seemed pretty desperate to fail me and was angry that he couldn't. Despite being a class clown with almost no work ethic, I had learned how to read and all the basic requirements of that grade. This sort of thing continued on and off pretty much up until the ninth grade. I sneezed all over my pants once in that class, it was awesome. I probably could have filled a cup with that sneeze. I don't consider myself a high IQ guy. In the first grade I was already reading at a middle school level. By grade seven I was reading past a grade 12 level, but I just liked to read. I always did. My math scores weren't much higher than average, I don't think. But it's fun to look back and think about how many people I pissed off with my laziness and wasted potential. I would put more effort in if I had school to do all over again but what the Hell, I had fun.

Nudity. In the fourth grade I jumped into the school swimming pool naked in front of the whole class. I was the last one in the changeroom and kids kept shouting through the door to hurry up. Without thinking, I had a quick shower and just went out and jumped right in. There was this Sikh kid whose name I remember but probably can't spell who mumbled something to me right brfore I jumped in. Right after I jumped in he said, "Glen, you just jumped in the pool naked!"
I looked down, then I got out and went back to the changeroom for my bathing suit. That swimsuit was awesome, it was a Canadian flag. I waited for the laughter to die down, that took a really long time, and then I went back out to the pool. My name was "Naked Boy" for quite a few years after that. Every once in a while I'll meet girls I haven't seen since public school and they'll bring it up. More awesomeness.

I wonder how someone would get into contact with teachers they had in public school. In sixth grade science class once we were working with different chemicals. Everybody had a different chemical on their desk and you had to describe it. The teacher, Mr. Marshall, said specifically not to eat the chemicals as some were dangerous but others were not and no one knew what they had. The kid in front of me dared me to eat mine and I pretended to do it. I thought he was the only one looking but apparently he wasn't. Mr. Marshall took me in the back room and screamed at me for a really long time. He was so pissed off that I didn't know how to tell him that I didn't really do it. He probably wouldn't have believed me at the time anyway. So that was another reputation I held onto for a while, The Guy Who Eats Chemicals. I'd actually like to contact Mr. Marshall and tell him the truth. I drove that guy crazy for a while, his New Years resolution one year was not to yell at me anymore and if anything, I think that just made it worse. To this day he probably still thinks I really ate that chemical.


  1. Yeah, finally! this could become an excellent blog just like chaos&pain!

    i wonder how longs it takes till the trolls come in and brag about "spiderman"...

    glen, are you going to write about training too?

  2. The Guy Who Eats Chemicals