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New Nickname


Jason Rimbaud

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Current Music Selection: Disturbed?Ten Thousand Fists

Current state: Red eyed (allergies are killing me)

Current mood: Not pissed but not happy either

So I have a nickname now. And not even a name I?m proud of or even answer too. And thanks to my roommate, Daniel, upwards of thirty people now call me this each and every time they see me out and about. And since I venture into the clubs on a regular basis, this name I hear all too often.

In a way it?s my fault but damn, I wasn?t the one that shouted out this stupid story for the entire gay community to hear. I was drunk, I?ll give you that, but Daniel had no right. I even looked it up on the Internet; there is no precedent for such behavior. Especially from a friend and dare I say, mentor.

I know you?re asking, what is this nickname you speak of? It?s hoodie. Or for a different spelling, Hoody. It doesn?t matter which spelling you prefer, neither is acceptable and this is the basis of my argument with my roommate.

To those that are in the loop that is my life, it started back in the day, which was a Tuesday. Remember Fredricko, the sexy but ?attached? boy I saw a tiny bit too much of one night after drinking a few Jager Bombs. Yeah, that?s the one. ?shudders?

So Daniel and I went out for a few drinks tonight. Apparently, Fredricko and I made an impression on the patrons of our local gay bar that Tuesday night. Because the moment Daniel and I arrived, Steven, the bartender, began giving me verbal abuse about the cute little boy I was making out with the last time I shown up. I wasn?t the only boy interested in Fredricko. After all he was the perfect little twink and the locals decided he was ?four fingers? worthy. (It?s a sliding scale between one and five. Don?t ask.)

I was in top form; I played it off and acted smooth and cool. Well, as smooth as I could manage considering I?m a horrible liar. But my roommate, the bastard spawn of Satan, decided it was the perfect time to expound on my liaison with Fredricko. In a loud voice, it was like he had a microphone and some twisted fairy turned off the music to give him the desired attention this seventh son craved, he re-told the story of my temporarily loss of sanity concerning Fredricko and his extra attachment.

For more than a few minutes I became the butt of jokes. Fine, I?ll take my paces simply because I know I handled that situation poorly. I know, I don?t need a bar full of fags to drive home the fact I?m a shallow boy. I get it. Let?s move on to the next subject. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

After Daniel finished regaling us about my misfortune, this bitch (I never knew his name. Everyone called him Connie Chung) Connie Chung began riding me about Fredricko. Even if I remembered everything he said, I would never take the time to type out. But the end result of this particular conversation, I somehow received the moniker of Hoody/Hoodie. And thanks to Connie Chung, every time I walked into the local gay bars, everyone shouts out Hoody?s/Hoodies here.

Not only do I hate Connie Chungs of the world but also hate my bastard spawn of Satan roommate for allowing the world access to my pitiful existence. I have a reason to be upset. No fag likes to be shown in public how much of an ass he is or has been.

What did I say about consequences earlier? If I?d only knew, boy, would I have handled that differently. Hindsight and all that, I?m screwed and only time will tell if I?m known forever as Hoody/Hoodie or Jason. Anyway, until next time, cheers and all that.

Jason R.

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