One of them is currently in jail on drug trafficking charges, another one has a daughter who has been missing for six years, and the one who asked me to write her paper used to be a heroin addict. Her youngest daughter was born addicted to heroin.
called it. my little lolcow now ids as transmasculine. and she's obsessing rn over mystic messanger.
i knew that more she drank the tumblr koolaid, the more it could get worse.
So remember TF Birb, the guy who constantly gets art of himself transforming into a football-playing eagle in this post?
I met him at a con this past weekend. He's every bit as autistic as I imagined. Tall and awkward, very stilted body language, monotone voice, pimples, utter inability to smile normally, name spelled wrong on his registration badge. In short, exactly what I expected him to look like IRL. Turns out he's also a fursuiter, and admittedly, his suit doesn't look terrible.
I would've loved to find out if he got any transformation art in the artist's alley.
My former roommate, Bruce. 50 something year old dude looks like Jerry Holkins from Penny Arcade. Now Bruce mom is white and his dad is black, so he liked to claim he "lived in the Jim Crow era and knows what black oppression is like" even though he was 4 years old at the time. He ended up homeless for like 20 years because he is lazy and entitled, also crazy. He's crippled because he was arguing with his ex-wife and fell over a display of soda at Walmart, you will find that Bruce's misfortunes are because of his own doing.
My fiance and I moved into our own place and he thought why not let Bruce live with us, but we soon found out Bruce is lazy and disgusting. He piss all over the bathroom, the bathmat would reek of stale piss so we had to throw it out and risk slipping on a wet floor after showers. His diet is awful, he would eat only cold canned food. Corn, beans, and green beans. Which is fine, but Bruce is morbidly obese, gastric bypass surgery, and still ate like 8 cans of food until it exploded from he ass or mouth. When he used the toilet to either shit or puke, the order was so pungent we could smell it from our room even with the door closed. We would be waken up in the middle of the night to horrific ass smells.
Speak of shit, Bruce would himself because of the bypass surgery, and he would also piss himself from drinking. It did not take long for Bruce to go into pants pissing/shitting stupor because of all the psych meds he was on. Bruce also had only 2 pairs of pants and 3 shirts. He had this sweat pants that had a huge rip in them like from his upper thigh to his ankle he wore them for a year and is probably still wearing them. One of his shirts has a MLK logo on it and a big mustard stain. His had two pairs of shoes, black sneakers and this moldy worn out boots he would wear around the house. Bruce had money, he had a decent disability check, never spent any money on new clothes, but on beer instead.
I could talk more about Bruce but it's long as fuck stay tun for
Part 2: Bruce's Habits and Aids. Part 3: How Bruce Got Double Crippled and Goodbye Bruce
Imma rename part 2 as Bruce's Habits and Relationships with Women. This one is long.
I'm going to start off with his relationships with women. Bruce was sexist because of his entitlement. He believed that women should serve him. He's a good dude why aren't women flocking to his jock? He was only in one relationship ever with equally retarded woman and she divorced him after he got money from his Walmart lawsuit. He's still not over her a decade later and would sometimes stand across the street from her house just like watching it when he lived with us. He's obsessed with her.
Bruce prefer his aids to be women because he likes the attention. He let his aids not show up for work but still clock them in, and bitch about his aids being "lazy nigga bitches". He went through at least 10-15 aids while he lived with us.
Bruce loved porn, he had a hoard of porn and would watch porn on the loudest volume at all times of the day. He fucked up his computer with porn and was convinced we would let him use our computers. He would try to get other men to watch porn and drink beer with him, which pretty fucking gay. Ironically Bruce is homophobic but does some fruity ass shit. My theory is his schizophrenia makes him have gay intrusive thoughts or something, so he always has to reconfirm his heterosexuality. He got a septum piercing because he wanted to look down the piercer shirt, so now he's an old ass man with dumb piercing.
Bruce had some sort of OCD, he bought lots of toilet paper and soap each month, because he would run out of it. See, Bruce uses toilet paper for everything, to wipe his ass, to dry off with because he didn't have a towel, to heat up food on those times when he got frozen chicken, to fucking use as a pillow. His bed was was stained and completely bare, one of his aids who happen to be male bought Bruce some bedding out of pity but Bruce thought the aid was hitting on him and fired him. Bruce would shit all the time too, so we would quickly run out of toilet paper.
Bruce showered once a week and motherfucker would shower for 5 hours. He would bring like 10 soaps with him and if they fell on the floor, he would throw it out. There's nothing wrong with the soap, they just fell and got wet. My fiance still has soap he retrieved from the trash 2 years later. Bruce would wear his moldy old boots in the shower. His OCD was so weird, the tub was "dirty" but his nasty as bed was "clean".
Here's a guy I haven't thought about in years, but was reminded of a bit ago. We'll call him Proctor the Butt Doctor for reasons that will become obvious. The first thing you'd notice was the smell. This kid stank like I didn't think was possible. Smelled like rancid meat, dog shit, cat piss, sweat and god only knows what. And it was a lingering smell. You could usually tell if he'd been someplace recently. You could walk into an empty room and just fucking gag.
He had the look of someone that had never touched water. Just looked really dry and dirty I guess. And always seemed to be wearing blue jeans and a blue denim jacket. Early in school we all just thought he must fart constantly to stink that bad. Little kids have no concept of someone who is just that filthy.
He had the voice of Grover from Sesame Street, and a rising speech pattern that made everything he said sound like a question. Like an 80s valley girl. He was irritating to have to listen to, which was unfortunate because he talked constantly. Nobody really liked him, but he constantly demanded to be the center of attention, and he was very hard to ignore.
I first met him in kindergarten. He was my assigned seat partner on the bus. That didn't last long. He wouldn't stay put, jumped from seat to seat like a monkey and yelled a lot. When he wasn't doing that, he'd tell wild stories about various things, a few of which were:
-He was secretly the white power ranger (there was no white power ranger yet at this point) and his name was Superflash.
-He rode a supercycle motorcycle that could turn invisible. That's why nobody could see it. Also it could fly and was totally parked on his roof. Why he rode the bus then was anyone's guess.
-His nickname was Brad, because it's short for his name. (His name is not Bradley).
-He and his sister would break into the abandoned church next door at midnights on full moons to battle the evil spirit of their dead father with kitchen knives.
-The typical uncle that works for Nintendo stories.
-That he was a famous songwriter. Three that I remember him claiming to write are "Be My Baby Tonight" by John Michael Montgomery, "It's Your Love" by Tim McGraw, and "Turn Back Time" by Aqua. He was a big Aqua fan. No clue why he didn't claim to write "Barbie Girl" it was his favorite.
Soon though, he got made to sit in the front seat, with a seatbelt, right behind the driver. That lasted about a day because he kept reaching up and trying to rub and touch her hair. He was then moved across the aisle.
His is a story about a kid that was fucked up in lots of ways, but school and bus staff seemed to bend over backwards to accommodate him and keep him around.
So far this is just typical lolcow stuff, but it gets so much worse...
These all happened roughly between 1995-1999
Nobody ever really called him by his first name, always just Proctor. He always liked to tell stories about how he'd trick people, get into places, or evade enemies by pretending to be someone named "Croptor". Which he insisted was Proctor spelled backward. He was very proud of his name.
One day in about 2nd grade, we had a substitute teacher who was teaching us about name origins. Smith=Blacksmith, Chandler=Candlemaker, etc. Fascinating stuff.
He piped up and asked what Proctor meant.
"Uhh, well, I'm-ah, not quite sure on that one actually..."
"WHAAAAT?"
"I'm not sure, I think it means proctologist, but I may be wrong... that's a kind of doctor but I'm not sure I should--"
"SAY IT, WOMAN!" (He had no respect for anyone female, even teachers. He kept yelling...)
"Fine! It's a BUTT DOCTOR! Proctor is a BUTT DOCTOR! Happy now?!"
The whole class laughed our asses off and Proctor scored a nickname that would stick forever.
One day, Proctor showed up wearing glasses. Big, thick, Buddy Holly looking fuckers that would make any hipster proud. Nobody really noticed or cared. But Proctor wouldn't shut up about them "I'm too cool for these! I'll break 'em! I can't look like a dork, I'm one of the cool kids!" and on and on.
The teachers had all been told by his mother that he was to be watched like a hawk because he'd try to wreck the glasses. They kept watch until he managed to slip away between lunch and the next class, and he wasn't wearing the glasses when he arrived. And he was smelling worse than usual. The teacher was grilling him on where he'd put them, when the janitor stepped in and called him out to the hallway. We all followed and saw that the boys' bathroom was flooding water into the hall. The janitor ordered him to go in and retrieve what he'd plugged the urinal with.
He'd apparently snuck away to the bathroom during lunch, purposely shit his pants (Barney the dinosaur briefs), took off the dirty, crapped briefs, stuck the glasses into the shit, rolled the glasses up in the briefs like a horrid burrito, then stuffed them into the urinal. He tried to flush it down but it wouldn't go. He pulled so hard the handle broke and started pouring water. He then put his jeans back on, wiped his shitty hands on them and ran to class. There was a boy in the far stall he didn't notice who snitched him out. Said he could tell by the smell, and Proctor's nonstop cackling and giggling and talking to himself.
He was made to grab his briefs from the urinal wash them out in the sink, and put the glasses back on. He managed to wreck them at home within the week, and never again had glasses.
He was a big fan of the song "Barbie Girl" by Aqua, but that wasn't where the Barbie adventures ended. One day he was running around the playground getting everyone's attention, so we all followed to see what he was up to. He stood under a tree and was taking his shoes off, told us all to get ready, he was about to do something cool. It wasn't cool at all. He whipped his pants off super fast and was wearing bright pink frilly Barbie pantyhose. We'd all thought he was gonna climb the tree and jump onto the fence or something. No such luck. He starts bragging about how those were his sister's pantyhose and he wore them because he had no clean briefs. About this time the playground aide comes over and goes "Oh my, young man, where are your underwear?!" to which he replied "I crapped 'em all, WOMAN!" and goes streaking away at top speed, throwing his jeans over the fence as he runs. He spent the rest of the day in the office.
Also, he'd always boast about having a "My Size Barbie". Those were a 3 foot tall dress-up doll. He'd always tell everyone he had one in his bed that he'd drilled a hole where the vagina would be (right below the belly button, of course) and how he'd stick his dick in that hole and just hump it all night. He'd always make up bizarre stories, but that one seemed plausible.
Somehow, around 5th grade when we all started middle school, a 10-foot-high chainlink fence sprung up all around Proctor's yard. Looked like a prison exercise yard. And soon there were at least 6 massive great danes in there. Those are not a cheap dog, so how they got one let alone 5 or 6 is a mystery to me. Absolutely no clue how they fed them either.
The house was an ancient two-story stone house with a rickety, holey porch all the way around. The porch soon was completely coated in dog shit. Also the dogs broke out all the first floor windows by jumping in and out of them. The solution was to take all the doors from the upstairs rooms and nail them over the downstairs windows. The door was left open for the dogs.
The house had a wraparound roof for the porch, which the hoarded 30+ cats would congregate on. Now that the dogs had free run of the 2nd floor too it wasn't uncommon to see great danes up shitting on the roof and jumping in and out the 2nd floor windows. The cats (and presumably the Supercycle) were relegated to the main roof where the dogs couldn't reach.
I actually took these the other day when I had to drive through the area. In the first one you can clearly see the outline where the porch roof was. Yes, great danes were running around that high up. The porch is gone now as well and so is the fence. To the right is the abandoned church where all sorts of spiritual warfare supposedly took place. Someone must have bought the house, installed windows and a roof, then abandoned it from the looks of things. It's actually a big improvement. View attachment 157365
Another view. You can see there used to be very large trees between the sidewalk and road. They used the trees as fenceposts and actually fenced the sidewalk into their dog pen. The fence was right to the edge of the road. Guess nobody minded enough to make an issue of it. View attachment 157366
From what I've heard from the crew that cleaned that house out after Butt Doctor and co. abandoned it around 12 years ago, it was not pretty. The toilet had broken years before so they shit in it until it was full, then did the same to the toilet tank, sink and bathtub. Apparently there was also shit piled high in corners of rooms that wasn't from the dogs and cats. Fortunately this had all been sitting about 2 years so they just shoveled it out in large brick-like clumps, and removed all the sinks, tubs, etc, entirely and tossed them.
One day in middle school, probably around halfway through 7th grade we were all getting off the bus when an Aide lady walks up and grabs hold of Proctor and takes him away. In school we notice her walking him between classes, and in every class he's in, there's now an extra desk and the aide is sitting there reading a book or whatever she does. After a week or so of her being his shadow, some friends and I asked her what was going on. Her, being a rather disgruntled aide who had no problem telling us everything, explained.
About a week before, between classes, the assistant principal was making the rounds and checking the boys bathrooms for kids trying to smoke or skip class. He walks into the boys room across from the cafeteria and sees two sets of legs, pants around ankles, in front of the toilet in the handicap stall. Loud mumbling and grunting going on. No, it couldn't be. Stall door was open. Walks in.
OH DEAR GOD.
Proctor had one of the sped kids (same age, not a re.tarded one, just ADHD or something) bent over the toilet and was railing him as balls deep and hard as a 7th grader can. The assistant principal grabbed them and dragged both of them to the office. At this point the aide told us that as he was getting pulled away, Proctor started screaming "Ahh! Ahh! I'm stuck! It won't come out!" or something like that and kept insisting he tripped and fell and his pecker ended up in his friend's ass and he wasn't fucking him, he was just attempting to pull it back out and it just looked bad because they got caught at the wrong time.
Parents were called, conferences were had and the best course of action was determined to be giving Proctor a round-the-clock aide who met him at the bus in the morning, followed him everywhere through school including clearing out the bathrooms before he went in and blocking the door so nobody else got in with him, and escorting him back to the bus at the end of the day. We did not envy her. I imagine she got a decent pay raise for being his personal wrangler though. She did it for at least two years. Proctor was only unaccompanied on the bus. It wouldn't last. He'd soon get a bus aide as well.
He also had a habit of yelling in the hallways "I've got a big corn cob up my butt from (random student's name)!" He'd always try to provoke people to hit him. Nobody knew why, but nobody ever punched him out because everyone knew he wiped his ass with his hand and never bathed. He was totally immune to bullying and he knew it. Nobody fucked with him, but it wasn't because we were scared. We just didn't want to get lice or whatever else he had. But it was usually lice.
The bus was the only bit of freedom he now had, and he took full advantage. Jumping, yelling, screaming along with the music on the radio, and shouting out "music facts" that only he knew. Like did you know that the "stomp stomp clap" part of We Will Rock You was censorship? Yeah, apparently in the "dirty" version Freddie Mercury yells "dick dick DICK!" Proctor of course has the only tape of the dirty version, and you can't hear it because reasons.
Despite being up front he still annoyed the whole bus. One day a new kid joined the bus route. He was about 6, and was made to sit up front with Proctor because he was too young to sit farther back. This was a mistake. About a half hour into the bus ride we all hear a bloodcurdling shriek followed by bawling and crying. Bus driver pulls over and screams "PROCTOR WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" It was the little kid screaming.
Proctor stands up and goes "Woman! He would not stop talking about Pokemon, so I grabbed him by the balls, then pulled and twisted HARD! Then he just crossed his arms and sat back down. Next day the little kid was gone and Proctor had a bus aide too. I can't imagine why the school wasted so much taxpayer money keeping this stinky fucker around. He had no interest in school or learning whatsoever. Not too long after that bus incident I moved away.
Flash forward to the present...
Proctor disappeared not long after I moved. Good riddance. I heard once he moved in with a juggalette and had a few kids but other than that he was totally gone. Until the other day a friend showed me this: View attachment 157382
Yeah that's a mugshot. Apparently our good friend Proctor is a rapist and will probably be remaining locked up for life.
Thanks! Yeah that's definitely the ol' butt doctor. Seems he stayed short and got tubby, was always real scrawny in school. Also, he used to have quite a lot of freckles. Maybe it was just dirt. His hair used to look all rough and stick up kinda like Kramer from Seinfeld too, and his favorite outfit was typically a blue jeans/blue denim jacket combo as predictable as CWC's striped clownshirts. Maybe I can find an early picture in a yearbook or something. Also, I'd forgotten he was almost two years too old to be in the same grade as me. Not sure what was up with that.
Also, here's one more quick story about him I forgot to add. I had a friend named Allen that lived not far from him and sometimes I'd go over to Allen's and we'd ride bikes to the corner store to get pops and chips. This meant riding past Proctor's house because he lived at the midpoint of a 2 mile ride. According to Allen, who often made the trip alone, Proctor would usually be playing on the railroad tracks (now gone) in front of his house or fucking around in the yard. This was before the massive dog fence went up. One day Allen got accused of being a bully and yelling at Proctor as he rode by. Proctor's mom had called his mom and complained. Not sure why he had Allen's number but he did. And he'd call and bug him a lot.
Allen had also recently announced to everyone at school who would listen that he was becoming a wigger and a juggalo (yes, he actually called himself a wigger) and that he was now big into rap. Proctor also wanted to like rap. He had a fixation with Allen and liked to copy him. But the thug life shit made Allen's mom think maybe he was becoming a bully and she'd always suspect him of messing with kids. He told her it was actually Proctor being weird and bugging him and saying really weird shit. This was around 1999, I was about 12 and I'd never heard of such things.
The story I got from Allen was that he was getting bitched out by his mom, when the phone rang. Since he didn't pick up, the machine got it, and he and his mom both heard Proctor leave a weird rap message like: *BEEP* "Yo! Allen! I like you, I wanna do it wit'chu! Out in my pool!" *BEEP*
in his Grover-ass voice. Supposedly Allen's mom said she didn't want him riding his bike to the store alone that day so she drove him and as they went by Proctor's house, they saw him sitting on the porch in an empty green kiddie pool eating what looked like a plate of pizza rolls and screaming at the cats that were trying to swarm him for them.
Thanks! Yeah that's definitely the ol' butt doctor. Seems he stayed short and got tubby, was always real scrawny in school. Also, he used to have quite a lot of freckles. Maybe it was just dirt. His hair used to look all rough and stick up kinda like Kramer from Seinfeld too, and his favorite outfit was typically a blue jeans/blue denim jacket combo as predictable as CWC's striped clownshirts. Maybe I can find an early picture in a yearbook or something. Also, I'd forgotten he was almost two years too old to be in the same grade as me. Not sure what was up with that.
Also, here's one more quick story about him I forgot to add. I had a friend named Allen that lived not far from him and sometimes I'd go over to Allen's and we'd ride bikes to the corner store to get pops and chips. This meant riding past Proctor's house because he lived at the midpoint of a 2 mile ride. According to Allen, who often made the trip alone, Proctor would usually be playing on the railroad tracks (now gone) in front of his house or fucking around in the yard. This was before the massive dog fence went up. One day Allen got accused of being a bully and yelling at Proctor as he rode by. Proctor's mom had called his mom and complained. Not sure why he had Allen's number but he did. And he'd call and bug him a lot.
Allen had also recently announced to everyone at school who would listen that he was becoming a wigger and a juggalo (yes, he actually called himself a wigger) and that he was now big into rap. Proctor also wanted to like rap. He had a fixation with Allen and liked to copy him. But the thug life shit made Allen's mom think maybe he was becoming a bully and she'd always suspect him of messing with kids. He told her it was actually Proctor being weird and bugging him and saying really weird shit. This was around 1999, I was about 12 and I'd never heard of such things.
The story I got from Allen was that he was getting bitched out by his mom, when the phone rang. Since he didn't pick up, the machine got it, and he and his mom both heard Proctor leave a weird rap message like: *BEEP* "Yo! Allen! I like you, I wanna do it wit'chu! Out in my pool!" *BEEP*
in his Grover-ass voice. Supposedly Allen's mom said she didn't want him riding his bike to the store alone that day so she drove him and as they went by Proctor's house, they saw him sitting on the porch in an empty green kiddie pool eating what looked like a plate of pizza rolls and screaming at the cats that were trying to swarm him for them.
Fucking amazing. This is the type of cow that really sparks my spergy obsession.
Do you know more about what his family was like? Also, have you read his court documents? I'm not familiar with how it work in the US but I suppose such documents are publicly available?
Fucking amazing. This is the type of cow that really sparks my spergy obsession.
Do you know more about what his family was like? Also, have you read his court documents? I'm not familiar with how it work in the US but I suppose such documents are publicly available?
Only if you want to pay for them at about a quarter to a dollar a page. Also they're often redacted or even sealed if there's a minor victim. The sex offender registration information is what's public, and usually just tells you his address and what law he broke.
One night while me and my fiance were asleep, we were woken up by yelling. My fiance went to see what was all the hubbub was all about, after several minutes he came back into our room laughing. Bruce had a fight with my fiance's brother (who will be called Bro for now on) who was crashing on a couch for a little while (Bro was paying us to stay here and Bruce thought he should get some of that money), get this, dollar store raisin bread. Bruce accused Bro of eating his raisin bread and they started to argue until Bruce tried to pull a knife on Bro. Being a slow ass old man, Bruce wasn't able to get the knife before Bro kicked him in the butt causing Bruce to fall over dramatically and busting out his knee. Between laughter, my fiance told he was the one that ate the raisin bread all along.
We enjoyed a couple of Bruce free months as he went to a nursing home to recover from his injury. During his time at the nursing home, Bruce was a complete shit. Getting staff's nerves, getting on patients' nerves. He would get roommates that the staff thought were difficult they ranged from a raging racist to a retard. Bruce was badly trolled by both the retard and the racist, it was pretty fucking funny.
When Bruce came back he would complain about the apartment not being handicap friendly which he knew before moving in. What I forgot to mention in Bruce's habit was that he like to yell "Jesus the jew where you at when I need you!" sometimes "God, you jew!" or just "JEEEWWW!" whenever he got frustrated, which was all the goddamn time. So he would be doing this coming up the stairs with his wheelchair. Bruce was also given a walker, but being lazy he would use his wheelchair exclusively and complain about it.
Now here is where shit gets disgusting. Bruce started to shit in a commode and piss in portable urinals. He would hang his urinals on the back of his wheelchair that were always filled with blood tinged piss that was a dark brown color because motherfucker doesn't drink water. He had a raging UTI but was embarrassed to get it treated and blame the nursing home for giving it to him, sure buddy. He would line his commode with a plastic bag and shit in it instead dumping it in the toilet. Once he filled a bag would throw it out of the fucking window onto our lawn as well as dump piss on our downstairs neighbor's car (they were pissed). There was no reason to do this if he could get up the stairs with a wheelchair, he could use the toilet, but he got the urinals and commode for free so his lazy ass would use them. Bruce's bathing habit took turn for the worst gone was his weekly shower now he showers only once a month, he had a shower chair, didn't use it. Because he shits in the his room, it was summer and he did not have AC his room smell just fucking terrible. Stale ass, piss, shit, and puke.
Bruce soon moved out because he got a place at this old folks apartment building, but was like "I'll stay if you really want me to". No. He still shits in a commode, sleeps on a dirty, bare mattress and is probably having sex with this gay man he befriended because he's a total fruit booter. He has gotten in trouble at his new place for his apartment smelling horrible and his jew screaming habits.
So I'd first like to say that during all fours years of college I had shitty roomates. Freshman year's roommate was one of those entitled valley girls that love Twilight and Bieber and had forty pairs of shoes to shove in our tiny closet. Junior year's would bring her smelly snoring boyfriend over who got a thrill out of making me uncomfortable and senior year's was just some weirdo with awful acne and a tendency to leave behind large clumps of hair that clogged up the shower drain.
But sophomore year's roommate....it makes me shudder. I got stuck with a hoarder. I'm talking huge piles of trash stacked all over her side of the room and uneaten rotting food left everywhere. She had this big cake from her birthday and left it sitting in its container on her desk for three months.
If you think the room smelled awful, it gets worse. She bathed only every four days. The room would reek of BO the moment I entered it and I could never have friends over. And it made things even worse with the fact that she never left the room EVER unless to go to class or eat or whatever. She was always there and always reeking.
Then there was the matter of her gaming obsession. Like me, she was a late-night person. Unlike me, however, she occupied this time with playing loud video games and screaming at them at the top of her lungs. On top of that she'd spout lame catchphrases or quips to appear charming to the team she was playing with online and it was just so...cringe. So much cringe. She also had tons of autistic obsessions. Homestuck, Supernatural, anime, etc. She'd totally never shut up about them if you so much as mentioned them to her.
So yeah. Lolcow for sure. But I'll say this much about her--for as unhygienic and obnoxious and antisocial as she was, she wasn't someone I feel any animosity towards in terms of her personality. She was actually rather sweet and often went around campus feeding the hungry stray cats that came visiting the dorms. If she bathed on a regular basis, stopped the screaming and the hoarding shit, she'd be fine.
In many ways, I guess you could say that the tragedy was the fact that she was making herself a lolcow but had the potential to be so much better than this.
"I'm not sure, I think it means proctologist, but I may be wrong... that's a kind of doctor but I'm not sure I should--"
"SAY IT, WOMAN!" (He had no respect for anyone female, even teachers. He kept yelling...)
"Fine! It's a BUTT DOCTOR! Proctor is a BUTT DOCTOR! Happy now?!"
About this time the playground aide comes over and goes "Oh my, young man, where are your underwear?!" to which he replied "I crapped 'em all, WOMAN!" and goes streaking away at top speed, throwing his jeans over the fence as he runs. He spent the rest of the day in the office.
He and his sister would break into the abandoned church next door at midnights on full moons to battle the evil spirit of their dead father with kitchen knives.
Not actually sure about that one. his sister seemed to be the mastermind behind the ghost hunts. She was a few years older than him, and fairly normal for the most part. No clue if they had ever met their father, or if he had died or whatever.
I just remember them telling me one time that his spirit haunts the abandoned church next door and they claimed to have broken in and fought him on a few occasions, Butt doctor armed with a stapler, sister with a "para-knife" (I assume she meant paring knife). He'd staple the ghost to the wall or floor and she'd stab it. Never heard anything else about spirits from him really.
Another thing about him was that in school he'd always tell wild stories about how he was super rich and that the "BP" on BP gas stations stood for his name, and just a bunch of other stories. Definitely some sort of compulsive liar. They may never have broken into the church at all.
Not actually sure about that one. his sister seemed to be the mastermind behind the ghost hunts. She was a few years older than him, and fairly normal for the most part. No clue if they had ever met their father, or if he had died or whatever.
I just remember them telling me one time that his spirit haunts the abandoned church next door and they claimed to have broken in and fought him on a few occasions, Butt doctor armed with a stapler, sister with a "para-knife" (I assume she meant paring knife). He'd staple the ghost to the wall or floor and she'd stab it. Never heard anything else about spirits from him really.
Another thing about him was that in school he'd always tell wild stories about how he was super rich and that the "BP" on BP gas stations stood for his name, and just a bunch of other stories. Definitely some sort of compulsive liar. They may never have broken into the church at all.
It's a knife carried by a paratrooper. Supposed to be a small sharp folding knife you can open with one hand to cut yourself down, it seems to be presently also applied to all kinds of rambo survival knives with saw edges and stuff.
It's a knife carried by a paratrooper. Supposed to be a small sharp folding knife you can open with one hand to cut yourself down, it seems to be presently also applied to all kinds of rambo survival knives with saw edges and stuff.
himself because of the bypass surgery, and he would also piss himself from drinking. It did not take long for Bruce to go into pants pissing/shitting stupor because of all the psych meds he was on. Bruce also had only 2 pairs of pants and 3 shirts. He had this sweat pants that had a huge rip in them like from his upper thigh to his ankle he wore them for a year and is probably still wearing them. One of his shirts has a MLK logo on it and a big mustard stain. His had two pairs of shoes, black sneakers and this moldy worn out boots he would wear around the house. Bruce had money, he had a decent disability check, never spent any money on new clothes, but on beer instead.
