The greenest island of my imagination

Since this was my 50th entry overe here at Gigantor, I thought that it might be fun to dig around in the MANGUS Archives and find all of the entries that I made on the April 22nd's and share them all with you because I know that you find shit like this totally exciting and worth the read. I'm making all my little comments in between the posts in ITALICS cause that way they'll seem more pithy and exciting.

So first off we have the April 22nd entry from 2000. I was a Sophomore at SCAD and I guess I'll just let the entry talk for itself:

Rose in queer....you make me want to vomit at times, and your little pixie fuck friend really needs to get his hair cut and stop pretending to be me because that's just wrong.

You all aren't bears. You're not cubs or chubs or chasers or otters or wolves or puppies. Really...just because you pretend you're an animal doesn't make you cool. You're still the same old people with the same old problems so let's all just realize this and get on with it okay?

I think I'm going to develope a list of questions people have to answer before I'll allow them to talk to me. Not that I'm so wonderful to talk to....but really....some of these folks who pop up on my screen just have a hayday killing my brain cells one by one.

I'm going to be a hermit and stay in my cave all the time and make my own cheese and just sit and think to myself about goats and northerners and knit and wittle.

Okay so what the fuck kind of crack was I on when I wrote that? If I'm not mistaken, the first part of the entry was directed towards this who was kinda in my group of friends named "Mike". Later we all just started refering to him as "DumbAss" because he was, amazingly enough, a total dumbass. The whole "Bears" rant was just me directing some of my pent up hostility towards a gay subculture. Gotta love that.

I haven't a clue what all that other crap was about. I wish I could be like "Yeah, I totally didn't make sense that year cause I was wasted all the time", but I've always been a good boy and it was my roommate Ryan (not my friend Ryan whom I often mention, but a different Ryan) was a big huge druggie. Once I told him that I didn't really appreciate him smoking pot in our dorm room cause it made everything smell bad. He was really nice about and decided that since acid didn't smell, he would do that instead and keep me up all night because he was "laughing at the gingerbread men dancing on the ceiling". Poor burned out Ryan.

We do what we do because it makes us who we are. If we were to do otherwise, we would not be ourselves.

So the last time I wrote in here I was pretty drunk, which I don't think I'll do again because I don't want to turn into one of 'those people' who gets drunk and gets online to tell all their little skanky friends about it and the stupid shit that they do. Well whatever.

The weekend is almost over and I'm still tired. I slept till about 11:30 today and that makes me feel lazy, but it was so much fun. So friday was an interesting night. Elizabeth and I walked over to the store and bought alcohol. I got vodka, irish creme, and amaretto (so I could make 'screaming orgasms'...mmmmmmmmm yummy). So when I got home I called Charles to see if he wanted to come over for some drinks because I felt like contributing to his delequincy. He said he'd be over after wrestling.

So Charles came over...and Elizabeth was at the dorms and she picked up Frank...and then the drinking began.

I had a few drinks and was feeling pretty warm and crazy. I think alcohol effects me in such a way that I crave people to touch me almost as much as someone on E. How very odd. Frank was around though and fulfilled my need...that actually sounds kinda dirty, huh? Well......it did get a little dirty, but from what I understand I wasn't the only one doing bad, sinnful things.

In my drunken state when I was in the living room I saw J giving Charles a backrub...then J got up and left and I was all confused and I was like....where did he go??? Then he came back with hand lotion...smeared it on Charles and procceeded to rub charles' back. The first thought into my mind at the time was "There's totally gonna be some butt screwin' in this house tonight!!!". And I was pretty close to saying it out loud, but then I realized I was out of drinkies and went to get more. Shortly after that I wandered up to my room with Frank and naughtiness happened. I wasn't too helpful because I felt the constant need to roll off the bed and crawl around on the floor. But it was a highly entertaining and educational experience.

Then I worked all day saturday which was okay. I had a school group and two girl scout walk throughs plus my regular tours. The school group was kinda crappy...but both Girl scout troops rocked and they were cool and listened and asked good questions and seemed to care. I actually enjoyed giving them a tour. I like when that happens.

hum...I have nothing to say. I need to go paint some homework and digest my hamburger Helper, of which I ate WAY too much.

Oh dear...so the truth is out (again). I tend to be REALLY fucking slutty when I've been drinking. Well, not so much slutty, more like really fucking easy. I'll let just about anyone touch my boobies after a few drinks. Yes, it's true. I am totally THAT GIRL at the party. ::sigh:: so much shame. And this must have also been written before Charles was 21. I liked to buy him liquor while he was still underage because it made me feel all naughty cause I was breakin' the law, and I would envision hordes of muscle-y brutish police officers storming my house and each taking turns frisking me. No seriously...I did. I was really bored that year.

Next up - April, 22nd 2002 (apparently I made three entries over the course of the day, so I have posted all three):

Right...so...I had this big huge long entry all typed up and my computer decided to crash. Funny how that happens all the damn time. SOO...quick overview of the day:

+taught the art sessions this morning to a bunch of hyper little girls from North Carolina. One girl in the group actually lived in the same town than I grew up in in Massachusetts. Wild

+Had a HORRIBLE textiles session with a group from Florida. The girls were DUMB and nothing went right and it was hell on wheels but I survived it and it made me stronger (well...that and because I gave them a really shitty evaluation)

+A stupid Old Savannah Trolley driver gave Adele and Antionette some sassy and was a dip shit about it when they called him on it. I say we storm Old Savannah and break a few knees

+came home after work...napped...then went to Kroger with J for food and bought VITAMINS (hurrah) and YOGURT (hurrah) and APPLE JUICE (double hurrah)

I have a lot of cuts on my hands. I keep wacking them on walls at work (no...not on purpose)

My computer is sassing me. My IE is messing up. Same thing it did in November, some DNS problem. I just downloaded OPERA but I bet you anything once I close the application and then reopen it...it won't work either.

Once again, a very boring year. I mean, you can tell it's bad when I get excited over buying Kroger brand One-A-Day vitamins, that I didn't een end up taking. No I didn't. They sat in my bathroom until they melted from all the humidity in there and turned back into goo. I also was having lots of computer problems, which reached their climax when Jeff was trying to fix my computer, but broke it beyond repair instead. I don't think any of you really know who Jeff is, but believe me when I tell you that all you really need to know about him is that the boy was trying to regrow his foreskin. Yes...the penis kind. I'm totally serious. I wonder how that's going for him.

The entry from last year is a tad long, but I'm posting the whole damn thing anyway because I'm sure there are a few people out there bored enough to read the whole thing. Plus it might have dirty, mispelled phrases in it that'll get me strange and interesting google hits from foreign perverts. Anyway...the entry from April 22nd, 2003 that is coming up next references an email that I got from a strange little asian man who wrote to me and was like "You are so pretty. I hate you, you suck. Would you let me love you because you are so totally fantastic? BITEME! I want you inside me <3 the strange little asian man" That's all you really need to know I guess:

The Englishman made me CDs for my birthday and he actually sent them a long-ass time ago (yes, "long-ass" being a real form of measurement...it's longer than "shit-long" but just short of "for-fucking-ever") but I just got them in the mail yesterday afternoon because mail is slow. He sent me a fabulous card with an indian (indian as hindi, not native american) that, oddly enough, was a print from the Museum of Fine Arts: Boston collection. That amused me. So he sent me two CDs both live/b-sides/remixes of Bjork and Radiohead. I am entertained greatly. I might have to rip a few of these off onto my computer to add into the vast MP3 fray. What good fun.

Ya know, I really like living in America...but I'm starting to think twice about it. It's really starting to seem like the beginning of the end here. I wish I could feel all riled up and worried about this, but I just feel like rolling my eyes.

So yesterday Dennis showed up, he said the drive down from NC hadn't been all that bad. I sat him in the living room and made him watch me do laundry. It was very exciting. He drove 6 hours to watch me fold my towels. I'm such a wonderful host. Oh...and I had just gotten out of the shower too, so I was in my OldNavy swishy pants and a t-shirt and my hair was all wacky cause I didn't have any goo in it to make it look cool, hip, and urban.

After I did my laundry and made myself slight presentable, we walked to B&D Burgers and got food. We saw Jami and Tiffany there so they stopped to chat. I haven't seen either of them since we went to go see CHICAGO in early January. We chatted about school and stuff like that, and Jami told me that she's graduating at the end of the quarter and might possibly move up to Chicago and once again be around Charley (Cousin Charley). I thought that sounded quite exciting. I was going to try to head to Chicago in June at some point, but it seems that I will not be able to afford it right now. I did, however, get plane tickets to head to Boston to visit my family, and then make a quick stop over in NYC to bother people on my way back. So...early July I shall once again be in the NorthEast, which will be fun because it'll be a fuck of a lot cooler up there at that point than it will down here (once again "a-fuck-of-a-lot" being an accepted form of measurement, bigger than "wicked-fucking-whatever"...as in 'it's so wicked fucking hot'... and slightly less than "a whole fuck load").

So anyway...we're at B&D Burgers and we're sitting there eating and I go to eat one of my french fries and I notice that it's rather white...I pick it up...and it's a piece of raw potato. My french fries weren't cooked. "WHAT THE FUCK!" I proclaimed to no one in particular. When the waitress came back I told her of my discovery in a very non-accusatory, almost "Woops, the cooks forgot to cook my food, silly silly cooks" kinda way. She took the fries away, and brought me a MASSIVE tray of curly fries (which I had asked for in the first place) and then...I went insane.

I think when I saw the 17lbs tray of fries I decided that I would ingest all of them in the slight chance that I would gain super powers from them and turn into "STARCH MAN" and leap about the room in tights and save humanity with my starchy powers. In all actuality...I just got really fucking gassy. On the walk home we made a detour and walked straight down Bull St. and down, around, and through Forsyth Park to stare at all the half naked hotties biking, skate-boarding, playing frisbee, and other things that half naked hotties do. And yes, it is true, I was gassy the entire time. Acutally I was gassy up until just recently. I was worried that if anyone lit a match near me, my entire colon would blow out into the room. Now that would have been a bitch to clean.

Speaking of clean, I have cleaned my bedroom (yes, I'll take pictures). This is the first time my bedroom has been clean since January before I went to Boston/NYC. Yeah...I don't clean a lot...well...actually I clean all the time, or at least I start cleaning...but then I get all distracted by small shiney objects or something fun that I find in a pile in my bedroom and I get all distracted and wander away.

So yeah...gassy...I had to excuse myself and sat in the bathroom and fart, like three time over the course of the evening but it didn't fucking DO anything for me. I almost felt like thePR....not because he's gassy or stinks, only because he goes to the bathroom like 12 times an hour. Do you know how much of life you miss by sitting in the bathroom all the time? A whole fuck of a lot. I know personally that in this household, we use the time people spend in the bathrooms as "Let's-talk-about-the-people-in-the-bathroom" time in which we...talk about the people in the bathroom. It's really very exciting. Yall should try it.

So anyway...the little asian man who wrote me the letter before...yall know which letter I'm talking about, right? Well he responded to my response.

Hello Mangus,
What was the odds against my receiving a repy from you (I mean what is the ratio of emails received verses responses you send)? Wait let me guess. 1 in 10? Add to that the fact that I am a Pacific born asian and you a bona fide Georgia white. Should I feel privleged or not? Well I do, whether you think I desereve it or not. And whether you approve or not I feel honored that someone as aloft and high minded as you think I am worthy of your attention.

Now for surprise number 1. My picture is enclosed. You won't have to look to closely to realize that I am not as sexy and attractive as yourself (inpsite of all that modest mush you tried to pawn on me. Let's really be honest. You are fantastically good looking and unbearably sexy. You have got to feel good about yourself when you look in the mirror or see your photos. About me. I am passable. My friends tell me I have a certain charm that makes up for other deficencies I hate when they say that). Well we will see if I still appeal to you after this.

Now surprise number 2. I discovered you per a huge chubby Samoan guy name Faa Manutu who fell in love with your photo and wants me to draw you. He led me to your website and said to do a fantasy drawing of you. I don't know if you would approve though, so I will wait. Suprise number 3. I am an artist and would love to draw you. Let me know how you feel, O.K?

hugs my friend.

Kenny

Now I know that I am really bad with punctuation in my diary...and my spelling is horrendous...but I think it's helpful that I atleast sepperate my thoughts by misusing things like the elipsis. It helps. No really, it does.

Grettings Kenneth,
Normally I try my best to respond to all the of the email that I recieve. There are times when I ignore emails, and there are times that emails get deleted along with the SPAM in the inbox, but I believe that I have a fairly good turn around rate.

"A bona fide Georgia white"? I can almost feel the racism and burning crosses already. hum...appearently you haven't been reading enough of my "self centered crap" to know that I've only lived in Georgia for 6 years. I'm from Salem, Massachusetts...and while my father is indeed 'white' my mother is from mexico, so I like to think of myself as being slightly "ethnicly exciting".

Also as far as my "modest mush" is concerned. I was not trying to pawn anything off on you. Like I said before, I do not think I am ugly...but I am well aware that the people who find me drool-worthy are a very very very small niche in society. So until that day that I am elected the sexiest thing in creation...my ego remains very much under control.

have a good evening.

So over the course of the evening, he wrote back to me, but it seems like he clicked "send" before he was done writing because the email stops abruptly. Or many he was kidnapped by aliens and couldn't finish writing. Anyway...he said:

Wow. I have a lot of apologizing to do. First of all yes, had I done my home work I would have known you are a recent transplant to the southern soil. Secondly I mis-read your comment about receiving so many mail asking questions like "how big is your dick?" as lacking of sensitivity and therefore unworthy of response. Thirdly, although I actually knew there was a soft and compassionate side of you hidden behind all that verbal intimidation you spill out in yor writings, I was hoping to extract it from you in the course of our future exchanges.

I apologize for not seeing immediately that you are in fact a pretty nice guy. I am especially impressed by your refusal to see yourself as so much above others in looks. Honestly Mangus, I really didn't think anyone with your good looks and sex appeal would see yourself as otherwise. Now I know. This makes it even more difficult for me because if anything it makes you all the more appealing and sexy.

but getting back to your background. Wow. How exotic. I'm not sure what "my mother came from Mexico" means. I know It doesn't neccesarily mean she is Mexican in the racial sense. I am from Hawaii but I am not Hawaiian. Hawaiians are the indigenous polynesians who originally lived here as aborigines. so you're from Salem. I lived in Boston a while back. I lived in Brookline (right in the middle of Boston) and in Brighton just across Boston College. If I recall correct Salem of today is not the Salem of the witch-trial days, and although they capitalize on the name-connection, the real Salem where they executed those poor souls is the present day Danvers. When I was in Boston I read Marilyn Starkey's "Devil in Massachusetts" and was horrified at the fact that those teenagers were feigning foamy-mouth seizures just so they could get rid of offensive adults by merely pointing their trembling fingers at them. But whose to blame them when the laws of the colonies made disrespect or mere back talk to parents punishable by death. (we are told that to the credit of the colonies dispite the existence of such laws there is no record of any child or teenager being executed for insubordination to parents.) So how does a

Yeah...it ends right there, pesky aliens. Hum...I think that while one can 'From Hawaii' or 'Hawaiian' but not always both...I think that that's slightly different seeing that it is now a state in the US and heavily populated by non-hawaiians...however when talking about a country such as Mexico, I should think that a great deal of the people there are actually Mexican. But that might be me being foolish again. Yes indeed, My mother is mexican...race wise. She was born in the US though so that would make her an American (just incase anyone was confused).

So this asian man, I don't really know what to make of him. I seem find his emails slightly annoying for some reason. I feel kinda like how I do when I'm walking home from work and a bum walks up to me and says "Excuse me, excuse me big man, I'm a christian...and I just have something to ask you today..." I know he's going to ask me for money. I know he is. And yet I had to stand there and pretend that I care, until he gets to the part where he asks for money...and then I say "God takes care of even the smallest of birds...but he does not throw the worms into the nest." and then I punch him in the pussy.

I'm waiting for the punch line. I'm wondering what he wants exactly. He wants to do a "fantasy" drawing of me...and I don't think the fantasy he's talking about is the Dungeons&Dragons kind. I only like to be a patron of the arts if the art is good. I don't want to foster any bad art because, as we all know, "bad art is far worse than no art at all."

So hum...where to go from here? Should I just assume that he was abducted by aliens and not able to access a computer and not write back, or sould I respond and say "Oh yeah, here are some nudie pictures of Vin Diesal, just put my head on his shoulders...there's the fantasy"

Oh should I write back to him and take him for the geography lesson of the state that I'm from, and go on to tell him that the City of Salem today was actually a part of the original Salem. Do I need to get all historical on everyone's ass? Salem was Salem. Part of Salem was called "Salem Village". Over the years Salem Village changed names and divided into different cities and towns. So today when you want to go see "witch" things you have to visit 4 towns: Salem, Beverly, Danvers, and Peabody. I guess I am to be impressed that people other than those who live there know things about the area.

Oh...and just for those of you who don't know the "they were just making it up because they were bad children" is only one of many theories as to why the Salem Witch trials happened. It could have been all about the kids being bad, or it could have been the parents of the children using them to attack their neighbors (remember, when you were accused of being a witch...you were stripped of your posessions) out of pure jealousy. Then again we have the trusty ergot mold theory which I won't get into because I don't feel like it.

Am I verbally Intimidating? I shouldn't think that I am. I'm going to go listen to DuranDuran and sing "Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand..." at the top of my lungs and do laundry........

(1) I did terrible, naughty, sinful things with the Dennis boy that I mentioned, but I swear it was only because I hated his boyfriend. Well, partially because of that. He was rather cute. I think he's still with that boyfriend. I dunno, we haven't spoken in awhile.
(2) I understand that that entry was long and boring, but the asian man pissed me off and I really do hope he was abducted by aliens and subjected to anal probes.
(3) I stil like to stuff my self with starches. Just because.

So there you have it. April 22...a retrospective. You're all better people because of it.