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Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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   quarry personality test
Thursday, July 3 1997
    I'm only going to spend an hour on this entry:

    I

    mmediately after I awoke in the afternoon, I found myself riding with Raphæl, Ana and Nemo in a borrowed pickup truck.1 We convoyed with Matthew Hart in his Vomit Comet, heading up Carter's Mountain to pick up Peggy and Zach, then down the mountain and to the east some 30 miles on I-64 into Louisa County. In addition to those mentioned, Matthew was hauling Jessika, Monster Boy and one of Peggy's girl friends from Philadelphia. The destination was a vast quarry filled with deep green waters. The purpose: swimming and fishing.

    I'd been to this particular quarry once before, in September of 1995, when Diana the Redhead (who lived within walking distance) was hosting a party. That time the weather was cold and I was drunk on tequila. Today the air was hot and I was completely sober.

    On one end of the quarry is high manmade stone cliff. There's a place where one can jump 37 feet down into the water. When we first arrived, all the boys took turns leaping into the water from the cliff. Raphæl, who'd been driving the borrowed pickup truck like a maniac, ironically showed the most hesitation about taking the plunge. He stood above the calm green sea and contemplated it for a long time before he finally leapt.

    The only girl who jumped was Jessika. She appears to be a firm believer in practical (not theoretical) feminism.

    Since I cannot swim and I have no interest in demonstrating my machismo, I went around to the other end of the quarry to a shallow pebbly beach and waded into the water with Nemo and the girls. The water temperature was perfect.

    After he'd taken his dive, Matthew began fishing with a fly rod. I tried a few times and found fishing more fun than expected, especially when I got a few bites.

    Matthew even brought up the embarrassing fact that Monster Boy had made an unsuccessful attempt to kiss Jessika last night while I was off at work.
    Matthew was in a hyper-critical mood. He started off by expressing irritation about several instances of my hyper-sarcasm. (I'd dismissed fishing with "fishing, schmishing" and suggested that tickets to Raphæl's performance tonight at the Tokyo Rose cost $20.) Then he focused his criticisms on Monster Boy.
      First of all was the issue of Monster Boy's tee shirt. He was the only boy wearing one. What's he got to hide? Then there was Monster Boy's unrelenting demonstration of machismo.
        He was the one to jump off the 37 foot cliff the most. At one point Monster Boy even proposed finding a higher place to jump, though looking at the cliffs, this didn't seem possible. And he made all kinds of incredible claims about the acrobatics he'd performed on one jump which we'd missed: he said he'd done a "flip and a twist."
      All this tough talk left Matthew cold. In addition to his snide remarks, Matthew could be seen rolling his eyes as he deftly flicked his fly rod. He even brought up the embarrassing fact that Monster Boy had made an unsuccessful attempt to kiss Jessika last night while I was off at work. Tee-hee-hee! I'm going to stop before I get in trouble.

    I have to say that the quarry experience let me in on aspects of my friends' personality of which I'd been mostly unaware. Not only did Raphæl manifest indecision, Monster Boy demonstrate unusual levels of ersatz machismo, and Matthew Hart prove to be a relentless critic, but Zachary demonstrated actual fear. Yes, as we prepared to leave, Zach stood for a long time at the top of the cliff trying to psyche himself up to dive. "I hate life!" he complained as he realized he lacked the courage. I asked him why it even mattered if he hated life. He said his life wasn't at issue here; he feared the pain if he should miscalculate.

    On the way home, Raphæl drove a hundred miles an hour and Nemo shit his diaper, filling the cab with a foul odour that his parents didn't even seem to notice.

    L

    eticia the Brazilian Girl appeared at Kappa Mutha Fucka while I awaited the others' arrival. After that happened, Theresa also arrived. She still hasn't replaced the broken window on the door, though she swears up and down that she will.

    Leah came home from a day at work and she was eager to get some beer. Jessika and I had already decided to get some. So Leah joined Jessika Deya, and me on a mission in the Dodge Dart to Farmer Jack, where we bought a case of Natural Ice. The others contributed, but somehow I ended up paying 60% of the price.

    Leticia drove most of us to the Downtown Mall for tonight's opening at the Downtown Artspace for the "11:15 Friday Night" photography exhibit. On the way, I sang little songs about Leticia being a dominatrix and Monster Boy being her masochistic slave. Teasing them in this way is extremely amusing for me. Jessika seemed to be amused too, though Deya was in a foul mood.

    Then there was a cop behind us. Sure enough, he pulled us over. But we were so good: there were no obvious open containers and Leticia wasn't only sober, she was charming and eloquent. It turns out that she had a dysfunctional brake light.

    She told him that if he did anything to me, she'd take care of him good
    Aaron the SHARP distracted the bulk of my friends as we walked down the mall, but I went on alone to the Artspace. Jessika later told me that the SHARP talked almost exclusively about me and his desire to beat me up. She told him that if he did anything to me, she'd take care of him good.

    I don't have much to say about the opening except that it had lots of liquor flowing: gin, bourbon, vino, you name it. The photos were mostly unremarkable. The music was Raphæl and his band, but I don't have much to say about that either.

    Leah and Matthew arrived at the Artspace with Allie Vining in tow. She and I once had a torrid affair, and this was the first time I'd seen her in the year and a half since our acrimonious breakup, but it wasn't too uncomfortable.

    I talked to Freedom, the perky little bleach blond with big Jessika spectacles. She lives with Ian Cohen on Wertland Street. While giving me a show of her underwear, she told me that Wonderboy Neek has been over to her house on occasion. I warned her to keep Neek away from the telephone at all costs. She says he has already asked her if he could kiss her.

    I had a very short pre-work nap after yet more hanging out when we returned to Kappa Mutha Fucka.

     

    1Raphæl and Ana have just moved out of their house on East High Street, and they'd borrowed the truck to help with the move. They would like to move into a wharehouse on Shamrock Street. In the mean time, they have tons of loot piled in the "bandspace," the place where Raphæl practices in Belmont.


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