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anna

Don't know how it all got started, don't know what they do with their lives

by anna at 08:37 AM on July 23, 2006

1988 was a tumultuous year for me. By way of history I'd grown up with a tightly-knit group of crazed characters that had evolved into a mini-crime-syndicate. We'd all dated the same girls, hung out at the same parentless homes and in general fucked up our once-promising, affluent lives. Then I met my now-wife, who had two toddlers in tow. This changed everything.

More and more I'd spend time doing the family thing, drawing scorn from my old gang. I lived in a group home where the dynamics were tense but manageable. But soon enough a girl moved in. My now-wife took an immediate dislike to her. She was convinced that something was going on between we roommates, though it wasn't true. It might as well have been, and she broke off our relationship. I took up with the homewrecker, which ruined the group home dynamic. With us as a two-person voting bloc, it just couldn't work anymore.


We moved to another home with my then-best friend and his new wife. This didn't work out well either. Matt didn't like the girl and his bride liked me too much. That fiasco ended in an expensive and bitterly acrimonious lease-voiding. I moved back in with my parents, who were in the process of buying me a townhouse so I could begin the Responsible Adult phase of my life. Meanwhile the partying spiraled out of control. The girlfriend began hanging out with the gang, notable with Todd, a guy who always took up with my girlfriends dating back to 6th grade. He took a kind of personal satisfaction in it, why I don't know.


I began to see the gang for what they were: a bunch of self-absorbed, spoiled, losers. The GF moved in with Todd. I turned up on my now-wife's doorstep, emaciated and on death's door. We reconciled and have lived happily ever after. Gradually I lost touch with my lifelong friends. When we do meet there isn't much to talk about. In fact, Matt is living right across the creek from me and we never get together. The one time we did it proved awkward as hell. We've grown apart.

Several years ago I started writing on this site after six months of silent lurking. Bad Sam enjoyed a heyday of sorts with regular posts from MG, myself, Effenheimer, Ezy and Linz. We had a rotation going with creativity and sniping galore. Then one day Linz packed up her shit and stomped off in a snit. In retrospect that may have been the beginning of the end. Ezy met Amy and cleaned up his act. God knows where Eff went. (I suspect foul play.) MG wrote his screenplay. I wrote my book.

And that, my quasi-friends, is how it ended.

comments (7)

BRAVO! BRAVO!

...and lost forever...

...the sun... the river... yes... the river... take lockheed and never let him return...


...goodbye BSBOT... thanks Anna...

by LOCKHEED at July 24, 2006 4:10 PM


Glad to be of service.

by anna at July 25, 2006 5:42 PM


Aw, I kinda wasn't around to witness the eulogy to allow me to post a comment in a timely fashion. Almost certainly for the best, though. Oo, feels like I'm defiling this post by makig a comment, but perhaps I'm just being true to form. {:D

Lock, I'd make donations to your blog between my stints of life experiences, and almost experiences... but when I read it, it makes me forget what my first language is... I need a calculator handy to translate, before I can comment. I'm surprised you didn't post a link to it in what was potentially your final comment here. o.O

There's a political blog run by some over the hill, overweight pretender entrepreneur named Alexandra von Maltzan. At least I suspect that's true. If it ain’t then she is an attractive, intelligent woman sporting a talent for language, a fearsome grasp on current events, and an intimidating fan base of would-be stalkers, and wannabe Alexandra's. The blog's called All Things Beautiful. Hey, it's slightly American-centric and perhaps over my head, but I'm sure I could fit right in. *chortles* If I start to get confused I'll just look at the pictures there. I doubt she’ll cover threesomes, drug fests, or anything remotely entertaining... but I can lurk and wait for a hint of something like it, and then I'll pounce and set my timer to see how long my filthy comment remains before it's scrubbed out.

Meh heh. I wish you all the best, and hope you have fascinating sex, lives, and future successes. Same goes for your offspring, and... their offspring too. ;)

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at August 2, 2006 11:36 PM


REAL EMAIL ADDRESS POSTED.
BLOG: www.tradinganddrugs.blogspot.com

Thanks Crimson...

You know, no matter how bad things get, I could always count on some 'bloke' to cheer the world up....

by LOCKHEED at August 4, 2006 6:39 PM


Wait, what?

by mg at August 4, 2006 7:05 PM


Yes, MG... when the FATHER become a biological Father... His Creation takes a backseat... NEGLECTED... dying in a heat wave... Waits for the sound of the KEY unlocking the door at home... but NO... it's not the KEY.... It's just Utility Bills being slid under the door... and soon, the creation, the CHILD... shrivels up... to Dehydrated to even cry.... and DIES>>>>>>

by LOCKHEED at August 4, 2006 7:11 PM


You paint such a picture Lock.

by mg at August 4, 2006 10:56 PM


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