notanotherphony.

Jack Tait swam for miles across the English Channel to get from England to France.  he was drunk.  he was naked.  he was cold.  he was wet.  he had no money.  he had no clothes.  he had no toothbrush.  Jack Tait wasn’t even horny…for once.  he was determined to get to Vatican City to see the unveiling of the new Pope.  Jack had been to Vatican City as an eight year old boy and was forever changed.  he was never allowed to say just what happened on his last visit so he didn’t.  Jack Tait is a man of his word.  so he lived tortured and scared.  naked and lonely.  no one really understood poor Jack.  not even Jack himself.  he had prayed and prayed.  for years and years.  but none were ever answered.  Jack Tait is sixty years old.
  Jack arrived in France and went looking for the closest bike rental shop.  he asked many of the French settlers where one was but they never responded.  Jack Tait did not speak French.  Jack Tait walked and he walked.  through towns and cities and eventually he came upon a farm.  it was dark and rainy.  Jack stopped at the bottom of the dirt road driveway and looked up in the sky.  he saw an image of Hitler and thought that was strange.  he knew he had eaten six grams of magic mushrooms four hours earlier but he had never had a bad trip before.  this trip might be different.  he began walking up the dirt driveway and towards the house.  he began to hear strange horse sounds.  strange cow sounds.  strange racoon sounds.  strange lizard sounds.  everything was strange.  Jack continued.  he looked to the sky again and Castro was there.  Hitler and Castro conversing over a Cuban cigar and a German Lowenbrau.  both men were smiling.  Jack continued.  the sounds becoming louder.  the sounds becoming quieter.  louder.  quieter.  Jack was now sweating.  Jack stopped and looked behind him at the main road.  it was empty.  he looked back at the farm.  not far to go so Jack went.  he walked.  and he walked.  and he walked some more.  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH FUCK ME.  WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!”  Jack looked around.  no one.  “is someone there?  hello?  hello?  i hear you but i do not see you.”  Jack continued to ask questions but continued to get silence back.  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH  FUCK ME.  WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!”  Jack spun around again.  nothing.  Jack looked up to the sky.  Hitler.  Castro.  Rob Ford.  Jack Tait started running toward the house.  he arrived at the house.  rain was pouring down.  Jack was soaked.  lucky he was naked.  he began banging on the door.  “LET ME IN.  LET ME IN.  LET ME IN!!!”  no one answered.  Jack looked back and now fourteen big pigs were running up the driveway towards him.  they looked mad.  they were squealing.  Jack panicked.  “LET ME IN.  LET ME IN.  A BUNCH OF FUCKING PIGS ARE RUNNING UP THE DRIVEWAY AND THEY LOOK ANGRY.  OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!”  Jack began pounding and pounding.  noises intensifying.  pigs running faster.  Jack found an axe to the right of the front door and started bashing the door in.  four big swings and the door broke through.  Jack found a yellow tricycle and jumped on it and started pedalling as fast as he could.  a beautiful black woman was lying naked by an aquarium but Jack couldn’t wait.  the fourteen pigs were fast approaching.  squealing.  and squealing.  and “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH FUCK ME.  WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!”  that fucking voice would not stop.  Jack turned around and saw the beautiful black woman laughing hysterically.  the pigs barged through the remaining part of the front door and ate the black woman.  blood splattered everywhere.  Jack Tait was terrified.  he continued to pedal.  and pedal.  and pedal.  sweat dripping down his whole face.  his whole body.  Jack farted and once more looked up to the skies above and now saw Ralph Furly and Arthur Fonzarelli hanging with Hitler, Castro, and Rob Ford.  Rob Ford needs two names.  Hitler and Castro one.  Jack was starting to slow down.  the hungry pigs were starting to catch up.  now both parties in the middle of an open and empty cornfield in some part of rainy France.  no help in sight.  Jack turned right and quickly jumped off his bike.  he sat still.  it was dark.  he was huffing and puffing but he controlled his breathing somehow.  maybe yoga worked after all.  the fourteen pigs ran by.  they were huffing and puffing too.  they were naked.  they were pink with mud all over them.  some also had blood on them.  Jack sat still.  fearless and scared at the same time.  he wished he could join the party in the sky.  he looked up once again and saw nothing.  he looked back at his bike and it was gone.  he looked to the fourteen pigs but they were not pigs at all.  they were police officers.  “WHERE THE FUCK AM I AND HOW THE FUCK DID I GET HERE???”  Jack asked himself but himself did not answer.  The pigs turned around and spotted naked Jack.  “THERE HE IS.  GET’EM BOYS.”  the officers took off their clothes and started chasing Jack.  Jack was now terrified.  he ran by the cows.  he ran by the racoons.  he ran by the horses.  he ran by the dead black woman.  he ran by the axe.  he looked at his bloody hands and wondered if he killed the black woman but he saw the pigs kill the black woman.  Jack screamed, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH FUCK ME.  WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!!”  he ran faster.  he ran harder.  he looked around and the officers were close.  they were horny.  they were hungry.  Jack ran faster.  Jack ran harder.  he looked up to the sky and no one was there.  the sun started shining.  he fell into a brown muddy river and disappeared.  the horny naked officers disappeared too.  Jack reappeared moments later.  he floated downstream but was not dead.  the naked officers floated too.  they all arrived at their destination.  VATICAN CITY.  Jack raised his hands to the officers and shouted, “I SURRENDER.  I GIVE UP.  I NO LONGER CAN DO THIS.  I LOVE YOU.  I HATE YOU.  I SEE EVIL AND NOTHING IS EVER DONE ABOUT IT.  THE WRONG PEOPLE DIE AND THE WRONG PEOPLE SUCCEED.  IF YOU WANT TO FUCK ME WITH YOUR STICKS GO AHEAD AND GET IT OVER WITH.”  the naked officers looked at Jack and smiled.  they all walked towards him holding hands and singing, “God Bless America.”  Jack was now crying in shame.  waiting in vain.  the naked officers all surrounded Jack and began blowing on him.  Jack cooled down.  his hair on his body stood up.  the moment of truth.  Jack closed his eyes and expected the worst.  twenty five minutes later he opened his eyes.  nothing.  naked officers gone.  tricycle gone.  dead and bloodied naked black woman gone.  farm gone.  river gone.  Hitler gone.  Castro gone.  Rob Ford gone.  Arthur Fonzarelli gone.  and finally Ralph Furley gone.  Jack Tait farted and went back to bed.  he wished he had never used drugs in his life but he did and he could not take that back.  Jack Tait will eventually die.  sad and alone.

Jack Tait looked out the window of his Mom’s spare bedroom and began hammering his penis for the fourteenth time since he woke up.  his penis was pulsating and bleeding at the same time.  it was ten in the morning and Jack had been awake for two hours.  his head was pounding.  he wondered if he was a sex addict but then realized that he was happy that he could still get hard.  Jack Tait is sixty years old.  he blew his load one last time and then quickly pulled his underwear up before his Mom snuck in.  his Mom was dying of aids that she contracted when she visited Trinidad four years ago.  she wasn’t sure if it was the heroin or the men she fucked but one thing was for sure…she had AIDS.  she was skinny and with each passing day she became skinnier.  Jack Tait wanted to feel sorry for her but she never felt sorry for him and thus he never felt sorry for her.  lack of empathy everywhere.  family can be both loving and hurtful.  mostly hurtful for poor Jack Tait.
  Jack Tait found some old clothes in his Mom’s closet and put them on.  Jack hadn’t worn clothes for ten years but he wanted to please his Mom.  he was afraid of his Mom.  a sixty year old man still trying to get his Mom’s approval.  sad.  Jack put on the small clothes and walked downstairs.  his Mom was waiting in the kitchen.  she was smoking and fidgeting.  she had a blue housecoat on.  she had worn that same blue housecoat fifty years ago when her husband and Jack’s Dad suddenly passed away at the age of thirty six from asphyxiation.  the bed covers smothered him.  Jack’s Mom was devastated.  she never recovered.  some people forgive but they never forget.  Jack’s Mom is lonely.  Jack had tried on many occassions to talk to her but she had a big brick wall up.  she still does.  some people don’t get it.  life is meant to live.  it is meant to explore.  it is meant to connect.  it is meant to be truthful.  it is meant to feel.  it is meant to have fun.  life is filled with enormous opportunities but some prefer to sit and hide in their home watching shitty shows and listening to shitty music.  Jack said “HI” to his Mom.  his Mom said “HI” back.  Jack then said “BYE”.  his Mom said “BYE” back.  Jack opened the front door and walked out onto the street.  family.
  Jack struggled to walk in his tight clothes but struggling was part of Jack Tait’s life.  he enjoyed the struggle.  he had long ago given up hope of connecting with his family and thus lived life for himself and himself only.  he listened to beautiful music and fucked many beautiful girls.  he also listened to beautiful music and fucked many ugly girls.  Jack never discriminated.  he was horny.  he is horny.  always horny. Jack Tait is truthful.
  Jack Tait walked away from his Mom’s house not knowing if he would ever see her again.  they had known each other for sixty years and soon Jack will never see his Mom again.  life is so sad even when it’s happy.  Jack walked and walked and walked some more.  he tried to remember where he left his tricycle but he was so drunk last night that there is no way he could remember.  Jack Tait had lost many bikes, many friends, many brain cells, many sets of glasses but he refused to stop drinking.  Jack Tait knew that if he stopped drinking he would have to live a dull boring life like the rest of the peasants.  Jack refused.  he refused with a big enthusiastic, “FUCK YOU.”  Jack Tait smiled.
  Jack Tait walked to his old grade school, JOHN XXIII, and walked inside.  he looked around but it was empty.  he walked straight to the gymnasium and remembered all the great times he had there.  he wished he could go back to being eight years old again but he knew he couldn’t.  he hears people telling him that growing old is great and wonderful but he doesn’t believe it.  Jack Tait doesn’t like getting wrinkles.  going bald.  having aches.  having pains.  Jack Tait doesn’t like the thought of dying.  he wants to live until he is one hundred and fifty five years old.  he wants to fuck eight hundred and twenty more girls.  he wonders why life has to be cruel for some people and great for others.  he continues to sit in the gymnasium. he remembers the days of floor hockey with Booth and Schuster and Foti and Glenn George and a big smile comes to his face.  he pulls out a mickey of Rye from his jacket pocket and takes a swig.  he closes his eyes.  he opens his eyes and sees all of his grade school teachers standing in front of him.  they all look at Jack with concern.  he looks back with sadness.  the announcements come on.  “Please stand for the Lord’s Prayer and the national anthem.”  Jack stands.  so do the teachers.  one big tear comes streaming down Jack’s face.  he wipes the tear off and then looks up and no one is there.  Jack runs from one end of the gymansium to the other.  he does this for fourteen hours.  he is sweaty.  he is clammy.  he doesn’t want to die.  he was never bullied at JOHN XXIII.
  Jack finally finishes his fourteen hour workout at JOHN XXIII and decides it is time to leave.  he walks out of the gymnasium.  he walks out of JOHN XXIII.  he walks out of Unionville.  he walks.  and he walks.  and he walks some more.  Jack is still lonely.  Jack walks to McDonald’s at McCowan and Hwy. 7.  Forty years earlier Jack got arrested at this same spot for telling a manger that he was going to ski off his forehead if he didn’t leave him alone.  JACK WANTED REVENGE.  Jack walked into the McDonald’s.  he avoided the little babies.  the fat Mom’s.  the uneducated men.  he walked to the front of the counter.  “Would Mike Smith be there?”  he asked the pretty girl at the cash register.  “Yes…one second.”  she replied back.  Jack grinned.  two minutes later Mike Smith walked out to greet Jack Tait.  Jack Tait started laughing hysterically.  he laughed and he laughed and he laughed some more.  he couldn’t stop laughing.  Mike Smith was not amused.  he looked at Jack Tait and said, “if you don’t stop I’m going to call the police.”  Jack looked at Mike Smith and laughed even harder.  he pulled out the mickey of Rye and took a swig.  he then proceeded to smash the bottle off of Mike Smith’s balding head.  he smashed and he smashed.  and then he smashed some more.  blood splattering everywhere.  Jack Tait was still laughing.  Mike Smith was still bleeding.  Mike Smith was screaming.  No one was listening.  Mike Smith was and still is a pedophile.  no one cares for him.  certainly not Jack Tait.  Jack Tait might forgive but he never forgets.  Mike Smith died.  sad and lonely.  perverted and alone.  Jack Tait walked away.  cops walked past him.  he thought of his tricycle and then thought of his Dad.  he thought of his Mom.  he also thought of his long lost friends.  and then he thought of all the girls he fucked and wondered what they are all doing.  Jack Tait walked along hwy 7.  he still didn’t know where he was going.

Jack Tait woke up sideways on the front lawn of a house he had never witnessed before.  it was in the middle of a cornfield.  it was very hot.  Jack was naked.  he had a pounding head from all the Jack Daniels he drank the night before.  his blue tricycle right beside him.  four empty beer bottles keeping Jack company.  he attempted to get up but decided that he would lay back down for ten minutes.  he was sweating.  he was dirty.  he was clammy.  he was lonely.  he slept for eleven more minutes and then woke up again.  it was now pouring rain.  Jack was soaked.  he wondered about life and lost friends but his headache interrupted his wondering.  he began to walk with his tricycle in his right arm.  he had nowhere to go but he had overstayed his welcome on someone’s front lawn he did or did not know.
  “GET BACK HERE YOU FUCKING ANIMAL.  YOU COME HERE RIGHT NOW YOU DIRTY OLD MAN.  WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE ARRIVING HERE DRUNK AND NAKED AND THEN PUKING ALL OVER MY BED???  I JUST WANT TO FUCK YOU.  DON’T LEAVE!!!”
  Jack turned around and saw a two hundred and fifty pound white woman with a rag on her head running towards him with a frying pan.  he put his tricycle down.  jumped on it.  and rode as fast as he could.  the lady waddled after him but it was a lost cause.  another man gone.  another disappointment.  some humans have disappointment after disappointment.   others have luck.  Jack didn’t know which side of the coin he was on.  he looked back once again at the pig and wondered why he was at a two hundred and fifty pound white woman’s house.  when he left the sleazy bar the night before he had been kissing a beautiful slim black woman.  “where did she go?”  Jack wondered.  he always wondered.  Jack’s life was filled with blackouts and disappointments but also filled with fucks and achievements.  the disappointments remained prevalent in his mind.  the achievements disappeared.  Jack contemplated meditation and yoga, psychiatry and pills.  he even contemplated praying but decided that everything cost money.  and money he did not have.  Jack struggled along.
  Jack rode from town to town from day to night.  he stopped for the odd shit.  the odd piss.  even the odd jerk off session in a “Johnny On The Spot” but he only wanted one thing.  LOVE.  he sat patiently by the side of the road and took a deep breath.  he was hungry.  he saw bluebirds fly by.  he also saw Raccoons.  he found a water fountain and took a big sip.  this reminded him of Little League Baseball.  Jack loved sports.  he loved his teammates.  he loved competition.  he was good in all sports.  he once thought he was going to be a professional hockey player.  he quit all sports at the age of twenty.  he discovered booze.  and fucking.  and sucking.  and fighting.  life changes quickly.  Jack looked for guidance but didn’t have anyone.  his parents died many years before in a tragic house fire.  he was ten.  his relatives looked after him but they couldn’t give to Jack what Jack needed.  his Dad.  Jack had a great bond with his Dad.  Jack was fucked up but his Dad understood him.  no one else did.  Jack went to the movies with his Dad.  he went to soccer with his Dad.  he played road hockey with his Dad.  he went out to restaurants with his Dad.  he even slept in the same bed as his Dad.  Dad’s are the best.  so are Mom’s.  Jack had neither.  he struggled.
  Jack continued to ride his tricycle along the barren roads of northern Ontario.  he continued to be naked.  he continued to sweat.  everything continuing except LOVE.  Jack knew that one day he would find his true love.  Jack Tait is now sixty years old.  lonely.
  the daytime turned to night and Jack continued along.  he was no longer afraid of coyotes.  he was attacked by a German Shepard and a Saint Bernard when he was younger and was terrified of animals for along time but life and people began to scare Jack more.  he saw the worst in people.  he once saw the best. 
  Jack continued to ride.  he had a burst of energy and went full force for the next twenty four kilometres.  he was passing dead deer on the side of the road.  dead raccoons.  dead skunks.  he even passed a dead squirrel.  the squiirel reminded him of his friend who had died of cancer many years before.  “HEY GOD IF YOU ARE UP THERE…WHY THE FUCK DO LITTLE KIDS AND BABIES GET CANCER???  WHY DOES ANYONE GET CANCER???  CAN’T YOU STOP IT?  AREN’T YOU THE ALMIGHTY?  CAN’T YOU PERFORM MIRACLES???  STOP IT.  STOP IT.  STOP IT FOR CHRIST SAKES!!!”  Jack couldn’t understand why anyone had to suffer.  he saw sad and lonely people everywhere.  Jack cried.
  Jack continued on his ride to somewhere he didn’t know.  he stopped on the side of the road to take a shit.  take a piss.  he jumped back up on his tricycle and stopped dead in his tracks.  lights shone at him.  he looked behind him.  nothingness.  he heard coyotes howling.  he heard cats screaching.  he heard dogs barking and finally he heard babies screaming.  “Who’s there?”  Jack asked timidly.  no answer.  “Hello?  anyone there?”  nothing but lights and sounds.  the baby sounds and screams intensified.  a pink pig ran across the road.  Jack looked behind him.  still nothing.  he looked to the moon.  he looked to the ground.  he looked to the right.  he looked to the left.  he put his head down and started sprinting as fast as he could toward the light.  he was screaming, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
  he went right through the light and on the other side he found a yellow and black school bus filled with bloodied little boys and girls.  the headlights were still on.  blood everywhere.  crying.  screaming.  torn apart.  ripped apart.  little baby eyes looking to Jack for help but he had nothing to offer.  no phone.  no water.  no bandages.  no vehicle.  Jack was frozen.  fear had returned.  “HEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLP!!!!  HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLP!!!!  HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLPPP!!!  HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLPPP!!!”  Jack screamed as loud as he could but nobody listened.  nobody answered.  Jack was helpless once again.  Jack sat on the side of the road and cried.  and cried.  and cried some more.  he thought of the parents of the dead kids.  rain started teeming down.. thunder.  lightning.  two more pigs crossed the road.  followed by a rabbit.  Jack closed his eyes.  silence.  he opened his eyes and looked at all the dying kids.   Jack Tait will turn sixty one next year.

Jack Tait sits alone in his shitty apartment in shitty Etobicoke and looks out of his shitty window and sees the shitty buildings that surround him.  he is sixty years old and alone.  he has fucked over one hundred and fifty women in his life but has only loved two.  his wife and daughter.  he wishes that he had spent more time with them when he was younger.  he has no friends.  he is retired from his shitty job.  he drinks.  he eats.  he reads.  he sleeps.  he wishes things were different but they are not.  it is cold outside.  sunny.  but cold.
  Jack listens to Mumford and Sons, “ghosts that we knew.”  he cries.  he cries a lot.  he cries everyday.  he looks in the fridge for a beer and the telephone rings.  he contemplates answering it for it may be good news.  it never is.  twenty years ago his only daughter vanished from their shitty apartment lobby and has never been found.  she was ten.  Jack and his wife Jane searched for ten years for their beautiful daughter.  they fought.  they cried.  they hoped.  they searched some more.  they struggled.  they held each other tightly on many occassions and promised each other to never give up hope.  “WE WILL FIND NICOLE.  I GUARANTEE YOU THAT JANE.”  they also promised each other that “no matter what we will never leave each other.  never ever.”  Jane died.  cancer.  Jack watched as Jane went from one hundred and forty pounds to seventy eight pounds in just over six months.  he sat by her bedside at the hospital and would not leave.  visiting hours were from 9am until 9pm but Jack didn’t obey.  he always hated rules.  still does.  he lost one girl.  he wasn’t going to lose another.  Jack held onto Jane tightly.  he knew she was dying but he still held out hope for some sort of miracle.  he needed two but none came.  Jane died.  Jack cried.  fifty years old.  alone.
  Jack worked for the next ten years driving a dry cleaning van.  he constantly looked at elementary schools and high schools still thinking that maybe…just maybe…he would see Nicole again.  he had crank calls from heartless assholes pretending to be his daughter.  or crank calls from sadistic heartless criminals saying that they knew where little Nicole was.  all lies.  Jack no longer answers his phone.  his daughter’s room has never been touched since she went missing twenty years ago.  he looks at old pictures of the three of them together smiling while sitting on a canoe.  he reads letters from Nicole that say, “I love you Mamma and Dadda.”  he gets hot.
  Jack opens Nicole’s bedroom window and lies on her bed.  he hears all the kids screaming and having fun.  he wonders what happened to his little daughter.  there were never any clues.  never any signs.  there were huge police searches.  volunteer searches.  private investigators.  nothing.  Jack spent all of his remaining money in the search for his lost daughter.  he wonders what kind of monster would take a defenseless innocent ten year old.  he only wants closure.  life is cruel.
  Jack finishes his last beer and needs more.  he brushes his teeth and looks through the peephole of his shitty apartment.  no one.  he opens the door and then it closes behind him.  he looks down the hallway of his seventeenth floor apartment.  nothing.  he wonders where Nicole was abducted.  he wonders if she ever made it down to the lobby to meet her friend.  they were going to go swimming.  it was a hot day in July when she was taken.  Jack pushes the elevator button that points down and gets on the elevator.  he wonders if Nicole was abducted on the elevator.  back then there were no cameras in the elevator.  every step Jack takes he thinks of Nicole.  he thinks of Jane.  the two women he loved more than himself and he cannot get them out of his mind.  he cries.  he exits his apartment building lobby and walks towards the beer store.  it is cold.  it is sunny.  Jack sweats.  he keeps his head down and wonders once again if he will ever see his ten year old daughter.  she would now be thirty.  life goes by too quickly.  Jack walks past a cemetary.  he stops.  he turns around and walks in.  he walks forty two steps and turns to the right.  he walks twelve more steps on the grass and stops in front of a brass plate that is on the green grass.  it reads Jane Tait…July 10, 1952 – August 12, 2002.  Nicole, Jane, Jack.  Forever and Ever.
  Jack sits down.  he looks to the sky.  he breathes deeply.  he begins to cry uncontrollably and yells, “WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHERE IS NICOLE?  WHERE IS NICOLE?  WHERE IS NICOLE?  PLEASE BRING HER HOME.  SHE IS ALL I HAVE AND I NEVER GOT A CHANCE TO SEE HER GROW UP.  PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME.  PLEASE?  ANYONE…”
  Jack knows he will sleep alone again.  he walks away.  sad and lonely.  tired.
 
 

Jack Tait sits on a reclining chair on the top of a mountain in the middle of Antarctica sipping on his glass of red wine and asks himself, “is there anything better in this world than fucking a woman for the first time?”  he waits for an answer but none will come for he is alone.  has been for the last forty years.  at the age of twenty Jack Tait went on a killing spree on Yorkville Avenue in Toronto and by the time he was finished he had murdered forty-seven fake but semi innocent assholes.  he gunned them down with his 45 calibre shotgun that he purchased at a corner store in Detroit.  Jack Tait then hopped on his tricycle and rode north.  he periodically stopped at hamburger joints and coffee shops but did not take a shit.  he was worried about his Mom who was dying of aids but he needed to get away and get away he did.  the ride to Antarctica took three hundred and eighy-five days.  he fucked three hundred and twenty one girls on his trip up north.  he never used a condom.  he never blew his load.  Jack Tait has no more sperm left.  he is sixty years old and all dried up.  he doesn’t believe in marriage because he knows he will cheat.  he knows that, biologically, it is impossible for men to stay with one woman for the rest of their lives.  people do but it is forced.  “I LOVE YOU” is the most overused term in the English language but it has never been used by Jack.  Jack hates people.  Jack hates religion.  Jack hates dogs.  Jack hates facebook.  Jack has escaped and now he waits.
  it is cold.  it is snowy.  it is windy.  Jack whistles “99 Bottles of Beer On a Wall.  99 Bottles of Beer.”  he is lonely.  he is sad.  he is mad.  he is hungry.  he is horny.  he is tired.  he is alive…barely.  he hears gunfire in the distance but one thing Jack is not is scared.  Jack lost his fear many  years ago when the altar boy at his church took poor Jack into a back room and jerked him off until his penis began to bleed.  Jack screamed but once again no one answered.  Jack has a beard. 
  Jack sits and waits.  he knows that the assholes will arrive at some point.  his love of people has long since retired.  he tried on many occassions to love but no one loved back.  not even his family.  Jack looks at his bloodied hands and wonders just how much longer he has left to live.  he knows that heaven does not exist and this is why he never wants to die.  he knows that each day he is closer to death and each day he feels more beaten down.  more weathered.  more wrinkled.  he pulls out his penis and attempts to jerk off.  it is too cold.  Jack decides to run instead.  he looks down the mountain and yells, “GERONIMO!!!!!!!!!!!!”  he then begins to run.  and run.  and run.  he is sweating.  he is panting.  he wonders if he should have taken yoga when he was younger.  he makes it halfway down the mountain when he suddenly comes across HIM.  the judge.  the almighty one.  the lizard brain.  the nag.  the rat.  the bat.  the altar boy.  Jack stares.  the altar boy stares back.  Jack is cool.  Jack is tough.  Jack is a man.  the altar boy is meek.  the altar boy is a geek.  the altar boy is a freak.  the altar boy smiles.  he is a grown man now but is wearing braces.  Jack Tait picks his nose and flings the snot at the altar boy’s face.  the altar boy is frozen.  he does not move.  WHACK.  there is now a big green piece of snot on his cheek.  he smiles at Jack.  shiny braces looking shiny.  Jack wishes he had a baseball bat.  the altar boy pulls down his pants and reveals a HUGE two inch penis with bright red pubic hair.  Jack looks down at it.  he laughs.  and laughs.  and laughs.  he won’t stop laughing.  a grizzly bear arrives and stares at Jack and the naked altar boy.  the altar boy begins to cry and screams, “I LOVE YOU JACK.  I LOVE YOU.  WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME BACK???”  the grizzly bear turns around and walks away.  the altar boy walks toward Jack.  Jack is frozen.  the altar boy grabs Jack’s hand and asks for forgiveness.  Jack responds,  “I NEVER FORGIVE AND I CERTAINLY NEVER FORGET.  I WILL FUCKING EAT YOUR TWO INCH PENIS AND THEN SPIT IT INTO YOUR FUCKING MOUTH YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITICAL LITTLE FAGGOT!!!”  Jack never liked to use the word “faggot” but sometimes he did.  the altar boy tried to remove his hand but Jack stopped him from doing that.  he twisted his arm and flipped naked altar boy to the ground.  he looked the altar boy in the eye and started eating the flesh off of his face and then forcing it into his mouth.  blood everywhere.  he semi worried about aids but this fuelled his rage even more.  he grabbed the altar boys head and began smashing it off the hard icy ground.  blood.  blood.  and more blood.  Jack knew that this was a vicious scene but he could not help himself.  this altar boy ruined his life.  Jack finished his savage beating.  coyotes howled.  Jack got up.  huffing and puffing.  sweating.  the altar boy lying on the ground beaten and in a pool of blood.  Jack screamed, “HELLO!!!  HELLO!!!  HELLO!!!  COME OUT.  COME OUT.  WHEREVER YOU ARE!!!”  he was not finished what he set out to do.  find and kill everyone that has done him harm and made his life one fucking living fucking angst ridden HELL.  old greek man was next on his agenda.  old greek man sexually molested Jack when he was eighteen.  he had been hitchiking one morning after a drunken binge had left him at some remote home in the middle of farm country and was picked up by an old greek man in a shitty old car.  the old greek man had shitty greek classical music playing on the radio and he pretended he was a religious man.  while pretending to be religious he began rubbing Jack’s small penis.  over.  and over.  and over again.  small penis turned HUGE very quickly.  Jack Tait was frozen.  still is.  as Jack sat frozen and confused the old greek man opened up Jack’s shorts and pulled out his throbbing HUGE penis.  he stroked as he drove.  he stroked and stroked and stroked the whole time saying, “you big.  so big.  so nice.  so big.  so nice.”  even old greek perverted man who molested poor Jack Tait knew that size does matter.  FUCK EVERYONE WITH A SMALL PENIS.  Jack frozen.  old greek man continued.  harder and harder.  “Nice.  so nice.  so big.”  old greek man drove up and down hills while his right hand was on poor Jack’s penis.  one last stroke and Jack Tait exploded a big gob of white stuff all over old greek man’s hand.  all over the seat.  one big white creamy mess.  “WHAT HAPPENED?  WHY YOU GO SO FAST.  YOU GO TOO FAST!!!”  greek man was enraged.  what a fucking hypocrite.  Jack afraid and still.  sad and lonely.  life filled with shame.  Jack looked out the passenger window.  lost.  old greek man stopped yelling and drove Jack to the nearest town and dropped him off.  Jack Tait opened the door and said, “thank you.” 
  now Jack is old and bitter.  angry and ruthless.  hate without a conscience.  Jack just realized that he left his tricycle at the top of the mountain.  “FUCK THAT FUCKING USELESS FUCKING TRICYCLE.  I SHOULD HAVE TRADED THAT MOTHERFUCKER IN FOR A TEN SPEED A LONG FUCKING TIME AGO!!!”  Jack starts running again.  age has caught up to him.  he huffs and he puffs.  he can’t blow a fucking thing down.
  Jack Tait slows down.  he now walks methodically towards the remote area he once stood with his right thumb out.  it takes him six hundred and ninety two days.  he didn’t fuck a single pig.  a single girl.  he stroked his penis once a day for good luck.  each day he is one day closer to relief.  closer to revenge.  closer to death.  life filled with irony.  Jack Tait hasn’t seen a mirror in ten years.  he doesn’t need one.  he arrives at his destination.  it is summertime.  Jack is hot.  even without clothes on.  he is severely burnt from the sun.  scabbed.  he should be a movie star but now all the fucking assholes of the world want to see pretty little boys and pretty little girls pretend to act.  FUCKING PEASANTS!!!  Jack walks into the beer store and grabs a two-four of Lowenbrau.  Jack Tait has taste.  he carries the two-four on his shoulder and begins to walk back towards the remote area he was picked up by old greek man.  he opens his case and drinks a beer.  “FUCK EVERYONE.”  Jack walks.  Jack drinks.  he is still naked.  he finally arrives at the exact location he was once picked up by old greek man.  he places his two-four on the ground and sits beside it.  he watches all the cars pass by.  some speeding.  some putting.  some honking.  Jack doesn’t give a shit about any of them.  he drinks.  he sits.  he wishes he had some wine but he is also tired and wine might put him to sleep.  Jack smiles and plays with all the gravel rocks on the soft shoulder.  he looks up and sees two young kids walking towards him.  Jack smiles.  “fuck you old man.”  they laugh and walk away.  Jack begins laughing hysterically.  he knows that these two geeky boys will never get laid…maybe once…and then get married and waste their whole fucking lives away like the pansy assed twerps they are.  so Jack laughs.  he doesn’t fight.  he knows that life is filled with sad boys who cannot “fuck.”  they can make love but who can’t? 
  Jack waits.  waits.  waits.  he begins humming The End by The Doors.  he thinks of his dying Mom and ponders the notion that maybe he wasted his life away.  Jack wakes up the next morning.  then the next morning.  and the one after that.  Jack Tait waited for four more years at that same spot.  he got older.  he got hairier.  he got drunker.  he got dirtier.  he periodically jerked off.  he periodically took a shit and he periodically screamed, “I HATE YOU.  I FUCKING HATE YOU.  I FUCKING HATE YOU.  I FUCKING HATE YOU.  I FUCKING HATE YOU…don’t die.  don’t die.  don’t die.  don’t die.  don’t die.  don’t die Mom.”  Jack Tait cried.  lonely.  sad.  naked.  lost.  hungry.  angry.  afraid.  thirsty.  old.
  the old greek man never did come.  he probably died twenty years ago.  he was old back when he molested Jack Tait.  he was old and sad.  Jack Tait was too.  Jack Tait looks up.  naked.  he sees a beautiful twenty-one year old girl coming towards him.  he pops a boner and stands up to greet the girl.  he smiles.  she smiles back.  Jack Tait has never been so horny.  “Hi Dad.”  Jack Tait is stunned.  he stops.  his boner shrinks.  he stares at this beautiful girl.  he cries.  she cries.  they hug.  and hug.  and hug.  and hug.  “I hope you never die Dad.  I love you,”  his daughter says.  “I love you too.”
  It begins to rain.