For his part, Ocean told Deya that he'd actually found the answering messages amusing, but he went on to say "Gus gives me bad vibes."

I


n the morning, Deya informed us that she'd recieved word from Ocean (who these days is her co-worker at Rebecca's Natural Foods) that we, the residents and guests of Kappa Mutha Fucka, were no longer permitted to go visit the Haunted House as a group unless one of its residents is there. Evidently Plan 9 Steve had been irritated by all the crank phone calls Sara had left on the Haunted House answering machine, and was further miffed to learn we'd been hanging out in the living room unchaparoned. For his part, Ocean told Deya that he'd actually found the answering messages amusing, but he went on to say "Gus gives me bad vibes."

Of course, Sara and Jessika weren't about to let this salvo from the Haunted House stand unanswered. They vowed to exact vengeance. Such vows did nothing to please Matthew Hart, who says it's important for him that the "dip shit contingent" (as he calls Rory and friends) "not think that I care."

Now he's working 40 hours per week at $7.50 an hour, and I've seen no change in his reprehensible stingy behaviour.

We went on to discuss Monster Boy's lack of generosity. He has been paying only $50 per month rent, refusing to pay any more, while occupying the back porch as well as the room between the living room and the kitchen. True: he has no privacy in the indoor room, but it's full of his stuff, and we can't use the room when he's sleeping there. It would be one thing if Monster Boy showed generosity in other respects, but he absolutely does not. He sneaks off to smoke his pot on his own and he has never put beers in the refrigerator for the enjoyment of all. I can't think of a single time when I've drunk a beer that Monster Boy bought. By contrast, Monster Boy drinks our vino and beers, freely shares in any pot I've ever had, and stinks up our rooms with his fetid socks. Back in the days of the Dynashack, I gave him a place to stay and lots of beer when he had nothing. In those days he said he'd make it all up when he had money. Now he's working 40 hours per week at $7.50 an hour, and I've seen no change in his reprehensible stingy behaviour. In discussing this with Sara, she became enraged that someone was so taking advantage of her friends. She goaded me to confront him when he came in this morning. So I told him bluntly, in front of the others, that it was time he paid $100/month rent. He immediately accepted. It was checkmate for his ungenerous ass. If he'd objected, he would have suffered terribly in our scorn. In retrospect, it seems delicious to have humiliated him so, but I was uncomfortable when I actually did it. Call me a coward if you want to. Though some of what I do might seem ballsy to many of you, I can be weak much of the time.

Jessika was appalled to see a couple shiny vehicles parked in front. How dare anyone live there after us!

T


his afternoon and evening, Sara, Jessika, Deya and I went down to Scottsville to visit Sara's old cat, Stink, a big shaggy purebred Himalayan. Stink used to live in the Philadelphia area, was moved to Big Fun in early 1996, and, upon the demise of Big Fun in July, 1996, was relocated to the rural household of Deya's parents' to the west of Scottsville. Originally Sara had intentions of taking Stink back to Philadelphia, but of course she never did. Deya's parents renamed Stink "Monk" and had him castrated in hopes that he'd quit urinating everywhere, to little effect.

Down VA route 20, "the Big Fun Road," we went past the historic yellow farmhouse that we used to shiver in, drink in, punk rock'n, tussin, love & hate. Jessika was appalled to see a couple shiny vehicles parked in front. How dare anyone live there after us! It was like seeing an old lover with someone unattractive and new.

She says that a very early version of the Big Fun Glossary is kept in the archives of the Scottsville Library.

In downtown Scottsville, we went to the Pig & Steak Too, ordering a number of things, especially the enormous "basket of fries." It costs $2 now, and comes as a golden brown mountain on a plate, but it's as big as it ever was. Jessika played Squirrel Nut Zippers on the jukebox.

Across the street at the Dollar Store, Sara bought a trashy romance novel from a book rack above a display of sexy intimate apparel.

At Deya's house, we drank coffee and talked with Deya's mother, Marianne, while the dogs shed their fur all over our black coats. I was amazed to see that Marianne had compiled a thick looseleaf binder consisting of local lore, much of it written by me. She says that a very early version of the Big Fun Glossary is kept in the archives of the Scottsville Library, where she works as a librarian.


Precisely shaped holes were cut in pizza boxes to form short phrases: in-jokes, personal affronts, bouncings from me onto you because I'm made of rubber and you're made of glue.

Stink seemed to recognize Sara okay, adhering to her neck most of the time we were there. I kept my distance; he's one of the few cats to which I am most definitely allergic.

I felt my sinuses growing congested throughout the day. It was a mild annoyance, one I could safely ignore.

B


ack in Charlottesville, Deya drove our contingent up 29 North to the K-Mart where supplies were purchased. I was the one actually going to the hardware section and tracking down the supplies while the girls stood around looking at a rack of intimate apparel.

In Kappa Mutha Fucka, we spent the evening preparing for the assault. Precisely shaped holes were cut in pizza boxes to form short phrases: in-jokes, personal affronts, bouncings from me onto you because I'm made of rubber and you're made of glue. I was trying to cut a little "home wrecker" symbol, a house with a circle and slash over it. But I wasn't paying attention as I cut the outer circle around the design, which, when I'd completely encircled it, fell out uselessly onto the floor.

She attributed her problems mostly to the exhaustion of puking so much yesterday.

Since it constituted only Day #2 for me, I'd taken a capsule of Dextromethorphan. But no one else had. Three days of tussing would be too much for most anyone. As it was, Sara was somewhat under the weather for most of the day, vomitting a little even this morning. She attributed her problems mostly to the exhaustion of puking so much yesterday.

But I didn't really feel the full effects of the DXM until I woke up from a nap on the couch. I think my neurology or circulation was completely out of whack for a bit, since for a considerable amount of time after the nap, I had an enormous and completely inexplicable erection.

It should be odd that we're voluntarily living together in the same house in the aftermath of such an emotionally troubling series of incidents.

As usual, Peggy and Zach came and went and Matthew Hart drank an enormous amount of alcohol. The alcohol reacted badly with some powerful cold medication that he also took, and for awhile he claimed he couldn't see. He was flailing around so much that at one point he fell through one of my swivel chairs: just another thing needlessly broken at Kappa Mutha Fucka.

W


hen the others had passed out, Deya and I had a very good little discussion about the tragedy and gradual miserable decline and fall of our romantic relationship. It should be odd that we're voluntarily living together in the same house in the aftermath of such an emotionally troubling series of incidents, and occasionally it is, but I really do enjoy living with her the vast majority of the time.

We woke up Jessika at about 2am to go exact our vengeance against the dip shit contingent. We tried to wake up Sara so she could contribute, but she would not be moved.

Under the cover of night, we delighted in petty juvenile vandalism.

Read some more tales of tussin.

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Get a sense of what I was like exactly one year ago today.

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