Fanfic and Ring Induced Retardism
Friday, April 01, 2005
You know your spot’s blowing up when the person you admire is writing fanfic about you, albeit tongue-in-cheek. Thanks, Larry. ‘Tis a good read.
I got my tongue pierced ten years ago (still have it). One day I was in the Village with Jackie, my good friend throughout high school and college (one of those relationships I really fucked up in the end) and we saw a tattoo parlor/piercing place and I just decided to go on in and do it.
It was really no big deal, I sat down, the guy clamped my tongue, needled it, pushed the stud through and I was on my way. The thing is, I couldn’t talk. Not only did I literally sound retarded, but every time I opened my mouth I drooled all over the place. Now, I’m a talker. You can probably tell that by these verbose passages I put up daily (not today, though, I got a killer back-ache and want to go to bed). When I realized that I physically couldn’t talk, I freaked out. I went pale, started sweating and had to sit down in a doorway while Jackie comforted me. Clamp, no problem. Needle through my tongue, no problem. Barbell through my tongue, no problem. Can’t talk; fucking pass out.
We sit for a couple of minutes and I finally pull myself together enough to walk over to a drug store across the street and purchase a bottle of Listerine. Jackie gets it for me while I peruse the aisles because my drooling was uncontrollable and it was better I didn’t interface with the store clerk. After the purchase, Jackie asks me if I want anything else. I point to an ice-cream truck.
We walk up to the truck, Jackie orders a cone and now it’s my turn.
So here I am, tongue all swollen and sticking out of my mouth, drool everywhere as it continuously drips from my mouth and lands on my shirt and I say to the ice-cream vendor, “Ah ha a vanaha co wi spinka.”
“What was that, son?” the vendor asks while looking at Jackie as if she was supposed to be ordering for the guy that was obviously her retarded brother.
“He wants a vanilla cone with sprinkles.”
The best part of the whole ordeal was me thinking I could hide it from my parents. My mom, who sensed a condom in my wallet, picked up on it before I even said anything. The expected response, my mom was pissed, my dad squirmed and my sister wanted to see it.
Now I don’t even realize I have it anymore. I want to take it out but I know that if I did, I’d never get another one, so the removal would be permanent. After ten years you get pretty attached to it. Robin has two, which was an obvious selling point. Our first time making out I swallowed the ball of one of them. I now have that and a quarter lodged in my appendix.
Anyway, I need to pass out. My back pain isn’t a normal back pain; I actually think I have something wrong with my kidneys. This pain started after I got sick, went away and then came back today. Situated in my middle back on both sides of my spine. So, if I don’t update on Monday it’s because I’m dead. If I’m on dialysis, however, I’ll phone in my story.
Have a good weekend, enjoy Sin City.
self-diagnose your illness, fanboy: WebMD
I got my tongue pierced ten years ago (still have it). One day I was in the Village with Jackie, my good friend throughout high school and college (one of those relationships I really fucked up in the end) and we saw a tattoo parlor/piercing place and I just decided to go on in and do it.
It was really no big deal, I sat down, the guy clamped my tongue, needled it, pushed the stud through and I was on my way. The thing is, I couldn’t talk. Not only did I literally sound retarded, but every time I opened my mouth I drooled all over the place. Now, I’m a talker. You can probably tell that by these verbose passages I put up daily (not today, though, I got a killer back-ache and want to go to bed). When I realized that I physically couldn’t talk, I freaked out. I went pale, started sweating and had to sit down in a doorway while Jackie comforted me. Clamp, no problem. Needle through my tongue, no problem. Barbell through my tongue, no problem. Can’t talk; fucking pass out.
We sit for a couple of minutes and I finally pull myself together enough to walk over to a drug store across the street and purchase a bottle of Listerine. Jackie gets it for me while I peruse the aisles because my drooling was uncontrollable and it was better I didn’t interface with the store clerk. After the purchase, Jackie asks me if I want anything else. I point to an ice-cream truck.
We walk up to the truck, Jackie orders a cone and now it’s my turn.
So here I am, tongue all swollen and sticking out of my mouth, drool everywhere as it continuously drips from my mouth and lands on my shirt and I say to the ice-cream vendor, “Ah ha a vanaha co wi spinka.”
“What was that, son?” the vendor asks while looking at Jackie as if she was supposed to be ordering for the guy that was obviously her retarded brother.
“He wants a vanilla cone with sprinkles.”
The best part of the whole ordeal was me thinking I could hide it from my parents. My mom, who sensed a condom in my wallet, picked up on it before I even said anything. The expected response, my mom was pissed, my dad squirmed and my sister wanted to see it.
Now I don’t even realize I have it anymore. I want to take it out but I know that if I did, I’d never get another one, so the removal would be permanent. After ten years you get pretty attached to it. Robin has two, which was an obvious selling point. Our first time making out I swallowed the ball of one of them. I now have that and a quarter lodged in my appendix.
Anyway, I need to pass out. My back pain isn’t a normal back pain; I actually think I have something wrong with my kidneys. This pain started after I got sick, went away and then came back today. Situated in my middle back on both sides of my spine. So, if I don’t update on Monday it’s because I’m dead. If I’m on dialysis, however, I’ll phone in my story.
Have a good weekend, enjoy Sin City.
self-diagnose your illness, fanboy: WebMD
Labels: mitc
posted by Jason at
12:41 AM
6 Comments
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Jason said...
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Interesting side note to this story. I ended it by saying I was going to "pass out" as in, go to sleep.
Interestingly enough, as soon as I posted I got up to go to the bathroom, felt light headed, managed to wake Robin up and actually passed out. First time I ever passed out in my whole life.
Now how's that for prophesizing my future? Doctor appoinment = made. - 1:50 PM
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Chris Fabulous said...
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That's crazy. Hope you feel better and everything's okay.
CF - 4:46 PM
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Jorge Vega said...
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What the hell happened?
- 11:11 PM
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Jorge Vega said...
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Hey, Captain Vertigo... I used your Harry and the Henderson's quote as a testimonial over at Image.
Check it out... http://www.imagecomics.com/messageboard/viewtopic.php?p=8194#8194
Hope you don't mind me sorta forcing your pimp hand. - 11:23 PM
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said...
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Hey
Remember when I told the whole university to be mena to you so you would quit smoking? I had forgotten. - 3:34 PM
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Jason said...
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Guam-
Oh, I remember:
http://www.jasonrodriguez.com/2005/03/some-people-you-should-know-and-having.html - 10:36 PM
jason rodriguez is an eisner and harvey-nominated editor and writer. email him. or become his digital BFF below:
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