A ‘Brief’ History of Timmy, Part IV

For a time, Silva was the closest thing I had to a friend. But, at the time, I considered him a pest. Someone to put up with. We had homeroom and Spanish together. He sat in front of me, in both. I never got any work done in homeroom, thanks to him. In both classes, I can remember him turning around and.. being annoying. *laughs*

I remember how we drove Mrs. Desmond, our Reading teacher, into retirement. We’d hum in class. Oh man, that must have drove her CRAZY. John Kohl shot spitballs at me in class. Asshole. I remember Mr. DeVoe, our Social Studies teacher. People might have said he was an idiot and didn’t teach anything, but he did get our attention. I remember when he did the value of money. “It’s paper, throw it away!” He tossed someone’s five dollar bill in the hall. Someone walked by, and DeVoe tried to get that person to pick it up. *laughs* I got straight C’s in Algebra, because I didn’t do the homework. Bleh. I was a good kid, and the only time I got detention was because I went out to the busses before my bus was called. How cheap is that?

Music. If you had asked me what music I liked, I would have said, “I don’t listen to music.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. Music seemed like such a trendy thing. Something to get absorbed into. I remember when I thought New Kids On the Block was a TV show. Silly me. I liked Weird Al, and my first CD was “Bad Hair Day”. I didn’t have a stereo, so I listened to it in my computer of the time. And yet, I was into music. I made Cool Music Volume III: Screaming of the Cows for the DC trip. I must have made them on my sister’s stereo. I liked Creedence. I liked ABBA, whom I grew up on. I liked Hanson before I realized, “OMG, I have a penis! I’m not supposed to like Hanson!” I liked Live. Wendi once left Throwing Copper in the computer. Naturally, I listened to it. To this day, it remains one of my favorite-est albums.

Oh yes, Wendi’s the one with the moozac collection. In High School, she was into Alice in Chains. Eclectic is the only way to describe her moozac tastes. She’s into Rush. She went through a Soul Music kick. She says modern R and B is shit. *smiles* I used to listen to her moozac all the time. I mean, why buy moozac when Wendi has it?

The DC trip. There was some sort of camping trip 7th grade, but I didn’t want to go. But, I went to this. Beats me why. I remember freezing my ass off before going up that great shlong in the sky, the Washington Monument. (Silva was such a pervert.) I remember being late getting out of the zoo and holding all six busses up. And, most importantly, I remember watching free porn in the motel room. *laughs* It wasn’t the first time I had seen porn, but it was the first time I saw it on a TV. I quickly noticed that I did not see two very important things: penis and Vagina. How silly.

I do remember the first time I saw porn. http://www.porn.com. What was YOUR website? I was curious to see how easy it would be to get porn. I hit that, and.. the website came up. “Holy shit, that was easy!” And thus began my venture in porn. I eventually started saving things to the hard drive, small as it was. I can’t believe that computer had a 400 meg hard drive. It was only a 486DX2@66Mhz. *laughs* I’m a smart diddley and I have computer knowledge. Eventually, what I did was use DriveSpace to create a compressed drive and.. fill it with porn. Then, I changed the extention so it wouldn’t show up. Like anybody would notice this huge file sitting on the C: drive. Porn was a game, a game which robbed me of lots of sleep during my adolescent life. Many hours I’d stay awake late at night, viewing tantalizing pictures of scantily women and men doing unspeakable things. I only downloaded pics, because I didn’t have the bandwidth for anything else.

At the end of 8th grade, I shaved my head. Why? I still can’t explain it. In a way, peer pressure got to me. People noticed that *gasp* my hair was growing. I don’t think having long hair was specifically a goal or anything I had in mind. I was starting to understand my hair’s needs, and it looked nice on a daily basis. It was just past my ears. After the deed was done (thanks, Mom), I enjoyed having short hair again, for a time. I enjoyed running cold water over my head. Amusing thing was… After my hair was cut, the part stayed. It was the funniest thing.

As 8th grade ended, I was pretty much the same as when I had entered Middle School. Quiet, reserved. I remember the kids I sat with for lunch in 8th grade. They’d always poke fun of how I never said anything. I might as well have sat alone. It wouldn’t have made a difference. I remember playing ping-pong in gym. I remember hating baseball. I remember playing volleyball, and being basically useless due to my lack of aggression. I remember playing floor hockey, and the day I scored a hat trick. (Though, both me and the goalie know that I didn’t actually touch the puck on the third goal. He slid out to stop me and uh, missed.) Justin Osbourne, the asshole, made fun of me because I celebrated after I scored a goal. That kid always had something out for me. It’s not just because I crashed Oregon Trail in 5th grade. (Oops. Stupid Apple II’s.) He just hated me.

In a way, High School disappointed me. I was scared, as most kids are. I don’t recall my first day, at all. I do recall orientation. When freshman go into school beforehand and are shown their classes. It seemed so big and confusing, at the time. But, in no time, it seemed rather… small. I was expecting there to be constant violence, or so the media would have lead me to believe. Despite being in the most violent township in the county (According to the Daily Record), I always felt safe in school. There was the typical hazing and bullying and assholes being themselves, but nobody ever pulled a knife on me. But, on a grander scale, High School disappointed me because I was expecting to learn stuff. When it turned out to be more of the same… Oh hell, I don’t know.

I remember Wendi teasing me, asking me who I liked. I said nobody. Which, was the truth. But, she didn’t believe me. By now I thought, “Hmm. Should happen any day now.” I had never liked a girl, how was I supposed to know what it feels like? Kind of like the person that’s never achieved orgasm. “You’ll know.” In my own mind, I thought, “I’ll meet someone Junior Year.” As if a few years will change things, somehow. Magically.