Writing a book about my crazy life

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    Mar 24, 2010 2:26 PM GMT
    Several years ago I started writing short stories about my somewhat crazy and colorful life, most of it's gay oriented, as I grewup in the deepsouth, ex military and been out since I clawed my way out of a vagina. Have about 140 chapters completed, most are 2-3 pages long. Used to think this was a stupid idea, but the more I tell some of the insane stories, the more my friends edge me along to complete it.

    My brother, jesus, where to start on this one. highly condensed story

    Eddy has always been odd to say the least, one of those stupidly smart, highly intelligent, but a total dumbass and could care less what anyone thinks of him.

    On his 3rd degree, professional student for 20+ years. many years ago, he went thru this phase of being anti technology, wanted to live in the woods with his dog, build a cabin and ignore the world, total hermit for several years. Would go on 1000m hikes for months at a time, hated anything modern.

    Eddy had been in the woods or several months, decided to come back to his warped reality to his wife who was still pissed at him for taking off for several months, he took a sledge hammer to the TV before he left,

    One night I was watching a show about the unibomber, they did a profile on the guy

    White male, check
    Highly Intelligent, check
    Anti-technology, check
    40ish age, check
    Hermit/anti-social, check
    Multiple degree's. check
    Possibly living in remote location, check
    looked like HIM, check

    Kinda sat there for a while, tried to remember where he had been and some of the trips he's taken, stewed on it for couple of days, called his wife Kim, asked about some of his trips in the past, really trying to figure out if it was him.

    Drove me insane for about a week, trying to figure out if my brother was the unibomber. Plus million dollar reward, hotline phone# to police was on speed dial.

    Decided to confront him, called him on Kims phone, Hey Bro, where were you on his date, what were you doing on this date, etc..know anything about explosives, how would you make a bomb if you needed too...

    Got his, you moron, why are you asking me stupid questions like that.....long pause and took me a while to work up the nerve... Look Bro, I know you have issues and realize you are different,..........................I have to know this, just watched the special on the unbomber and you seem to fit the profile, are you blowing up people, if you are, you have to stop, not cool.

    After an hour of ranting on social issues and blah blah blah, Eddy said, I'm not the unibomber you fucking moron (his favorite word for me)

    week later thay arrested kaczynski (think i got that right)

    now it's huge joke in the family,









  • greenlantern1

    Posts: 131

    Mar 24, 2010 3:11 PM GMT
    I have done the same thing with many of the experiences in my life, and my friends and family get a huge kick out of the stories.....and a few shocks along with them...haha!! Gotta love it!!
    Joeyicon_cool.gif
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    Mar 24, 2010 3:20 PM GMT
    I'll be damn. We are twins! Two years ago I started the same and I'm at page 137 in the formatted version. 37 stories so far, about 15 more to go. Mine are not about being gay though. I only have one story devoted to that.

    It's very rewarding to write your own memoir in short snippets. I suggest everyone give it a try. Just write from your heart and say anything that pops into your head.
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    Mar 24, 2010 3:45 PM GMT
    Yeah, it's freeing and funny as hell to replay your life. I'm being brutal with all chapters, good the bad and downright ugly, it's better than therapy..

    Like when I came out to my Southern Baptist grandparents who raised me....Granny, Grandpa, I just want you to know I'm gay, Grandpa turns to my Granny and says "told ya" and it was never to be talked about again
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    Mar 24, 2010 3:57 PM GMT
    Here's a brutal piece:

    What followed was me watching my father beat up my brother like he had done so many times before. He grabbed my brother by the hair and began smacking away at his body. My brother's head pointed toward the floor as my father circled around him with each punch, taunting my brother with an absolutely evil voice. "What did I tell you? What did I tell you?"

    My brother's face had the same look as mine when he'd make me cringe with the rubber bands, but with an absolute fear and helplessness that only he had come to know so well. It was almost like he had to transport himself to a different place to withstand what was happening to him. It made me sick to see my brother suffer like that. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. My father welcomed any excuse to beat upon my brother.


    and another:

    Chris was a goldfish that my sister had acquired at a school barter. He began hopping around the floor as we frantically rushed to return him to water. This would be the first of two times that Chris would find himself unexpectedly beached on our carpet. My father knocked over the bowl during one of my parent's many fights. He repeatedly threatened to put Chris down the garbage disposal, flipping the switch on and off like a mad man. The drama ended with Chris finding a temporary home in an empty peanut butter jar, and my father placing it next to my sister's bed where she laid crying. Luckily Chris survived both incidents.
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    Mar 24, 2010 4:01 PM GMT
    wrestlervic saidHere's a brutal piece:

    What followed was me watching my father beat up my brother like he had done so many times before. He grabbed my brother by the hair and began smacking away at his body. My brother's head pointed toward the floor as my father circled around him with each punch, taunting my brother with an absolutely evil voice. "What did I tell you? What did I tell you?"

    My brother's face had the same look as mine when he'd make me cringe with the rubber bands, but with an absolute fear and helplessness that only he had come to know so well. It was almost like he had to transport himself to a different place to withstand what was happening to him. It made me sick to see my brother suffer like that. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was almost like father welcomed any excuse to beat upon my brother.


    and another:

    Chris was a goldfish that my sister had acquired at a school barter. He began hopping around the floor as we frantically rushed to return him to water. This would be the first of two times that Chris would find himself unexpectedly beached on our carpet. My father knocked over the bowl during one of my parent's many fights. He repeatedly threatened to put Chris down the garbage disposal, flipping the switch on and off like a mad man. The drama ended with Chris finding a temporary home in an empty peanut butter jar, and my father placing it next to my sister's bed where she laid crying. Luckily Chris survived both incidents.


    Buddy, we are so connecting on this, gave me chills. My book has brutal behavior like this as well....Grandpa was insane about hair, so we had to use Butch wax and keep my hair short, one day he cornered me in the garage and grabbed me by my hair and slung me around like a rag doll, screaming about my hair was too long and looked like a girl, granny was watching from kitchen window, next week I was on a plane to go live with my dad, brother and sister in florida.....another story as I was the milkmans kid and dad shipped me off to be raised by his parents....funny thing is I have no baggage about my childhood, most think I should though...lol
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    Mar 24, 2010 4:05 PM GMT
    Good for you. I am in the process of a memoir. It's actually more of a 182 page collection of pensées and insights at this point, but the work is beginning to take on a nice structure the more I study and rearrange it. Hopefully, something of true value can be had within the pages after I am gone.
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    Mar 24, 2010 4:14 PM GMT
    [quote][cite]shortmuscleguy said

    Buddy, we are so connecting on this, gave me chills. My book has brutal behavior like this as well....Grandpa was insane about hair, so we had to use Butch wax and keep my hair short, one day he cornered me in the garage and grabbed me by my hair and slung me around like a rag doll, screaming about my hair was too long and looked like a girl, granny was watching from kitchen window, next week I was on a plane to go live with my dad, brother and sister in florida.....another story as I was the milkmans kid and dad shipped me off to be raised by his parents....funny thing is I have no baggage about my childhood, most think I should though...lol[/quote]

    Yeah, most of my stories are funny, but I don't hold back from some of the more awful parts of my life. The snippet with the fish is actually a story about how we taunted our babysitters. One of them showed up drunk and was the first to knock over the tank. icon_wink.gif

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    Mar 24, 2010 4:44 PM GMT
    same here, mostly fun stories, but as in the real world, there is drama and dark side....including it all.. from being a meth addict living on the streets of LA and meeting a man who showed me how to live and saved me, then taught me a sense of style and grace, took a 22y old boy and showed him how to be a man, now almost 23 years later, I think of Tom daily, put the man thru hell, but he never gaveup and for that Im forever in debt to him, many chapters on this wonderful man....