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prowl.

Anā€™ the guys Iā€™d pass?  They were nothinā€™ but my dinner.  Iā€™d smile at ā€˜em, laughinā€™ inside as I thought, ā€œHe donā€™t know what Iā€™m gonna do.  What if I did it to him?  Is he anybody Iā€™d do it to?  Or him?ā€  Didnā€™t matter if they looked good or young or queer or anything, I had this new standard for smilinā€™ at my ā€œfellow manā€ -- was he worth prison?

So thatā€™s why I put those restrictions on Lenny-boy.  If Iā€™m gonna risk a second strike, I want it to be somethinā€™ Iā€™ll at least enjoy.  Anā€™ man, I have to admit, fuckinā€™ up some squeaky-clean asswipe of a guy, especially if he looked a little like fuckinā€™ Anthony, made me happy.

Now I ainā€™t gonna tell you I was thinkinā€™ ā€˜bout gettinā€™ caught.  I wasnā€™t.  Thought never entered my head.  I mean, come on -- what ā€œheterosexual male whoreā€ in his right mindā€™ll admit to beinā€™ butt-fucked by an ex-con anā€™ forced to cum?  Think about it.  Just the fact that he shot his load would make any cop or D-A really wonder if the guy was legit or if he just got into something over his head anā€™ was freaked ā€˜cause his family might find out anā€™ dump him.  Anā€™ if the guys at his day job found out?  Theyā€™d make his life hell.  He might even get fired.  Not for beinā€™ queer; oh, no, thatā€™s illegal in California.  But suddenly his job ratingsā€™d fall off anā€™ heā€™d get all these black marks anā€™ just have to be let go for ā€œpoor performanceā€ or some bullshit like that.

I mean, everybody knows itā€™s still okay to hate faggots in this country.  Hell, in most of the world.  Just listen to any so-called ā€œman of Godā€ go on ā€˜bout it on Sunday morninā€™.  Anā€™ look at all those two-faced cocksuckers whoā€™ll tell you queers can change anā€™ they got proof when any fuckinā€™ idiot can see theyā€™re lyinā€™ through their teeth andā€™d drop anā€™ suck a cock the first second one was waved in their face.  But hey, itā€™s all in the name of God, so that makes hate anā€™ stupidity anā€™ general pissiness okay, right?

Fuckinā€™ asswipes.  They preach love anā€™ understandinā€™, but you take one fuckinā€™ step thatā€™s wrong anā€™ youā€™re marked for life in their eyes.  You want any help from ā€˜em?  You gotta be what they want you to be.  You gotta change into what they think is right.  You gotta live how they tell you to fuckinā€™ live.  Anā€™ if you donā€™t?  Just try anā€™ get ā€˜em to turn one fuckinā€™ hand for you.  ā€œI may be a Christian, but I do not believe it when Jesus tells me to love my neighbor as myself.ā€

Yeah, I know the Bible.  Some of it.  That fuckinā€™ priest thatā€™d come by County thought he was gonna make me into one of his boys.  Not like that, but as ā€œa soldier in Godā€™s army,ā€ was how he put it.  Weā€™d sit together in his office twice a week, chattinā€™ about life anā€™ the meaninā€™ of God anā€™ how I got so off track anā€™ all that shit.  Heā€™d quote verses anā€™ tell me where they were in the Bible.  He even gave me a small one so I could look ā€˜em up.  Anā€™ I did start lookinā€™ through it, more anā€™ more, tryinā€™ to figure out what the hellā€™d gone wrong with my life.  Wonderinā€™ if maybe there was an answer in those tremblinā€™ little pages.

Now I gotta be honest -- I was goinā€™ there at first ā€˜cause it gave me a breather from dealinā€™ with all the shit you got in jail.  Even a dinky assed county joint.  Dumbshits tryinā€™ to prove whoā€™s got thā€™ biggest cock on a twenty-four-seven basis.  Takinā€™ letters anā€™ pictures anā€™ socks from guys thatā€™re weaker than them.  I mean, itā€™s pathetic, rippinā€™ off somebodyā€™s fuckinā€™ toothpaste to prove youā€™re a man.  Some guys had cigs stashed away, or bottles of whiskey or bits of chemicals, anā€™ theyā€™d swap ā€˜em for protection.  Or drugs.  Anā€™ sometimes a bunch of the ā€œbig dickā€ boysā€™d gang up on a new kid, wrap him in a blanket anā€™ fuck him, like hidinā€™ him made it more like they were fuckinā€™ a girl.  Stupid.  Anā€™ me, I was sick of it.  Sick of fightinā€™ the little fucks off all the time when they wanted my shit, even after Paco.  Sick of gettinā€™ into noise-fights over if I gave one of ā€˜em a dirty look or not.  Sick of always havinā€™ to watch my back in case some ā€œbig dickā€ who didnā€™t believe the shit spread about me decided he wanted to make me back into his new mouth.  Thatā€™s why I never missed Father Telloā€™s little meetinā€™s.

He was all about readinā€™ the Gospels anā€™ followinā€™ in the teachinā€™s of Christ anā€™ all that.  So thatā€™s what I read.  Anā€™ whatā€™s really funny is, for about ten minutes I sort of believed in it.  Matthew, verses five through seven.  Sermon on the Mount, he called it.  All the stuff about not judginā€™ others anā€™ lovinā€™ thy neighbor anā€™ doinā€™ unto others like you want them to do to you.  Anā€™ Iā€™m thinkinā€™, Shit, I wish Iā€™d been told about this shit.  It was somethinā€™ to live by, a guidebook for a kid who was tryinā€™ to figure life out on his own anā€™ doinā€™ a pretty fucked up job of it.

Yā€™see, my mom...well, letā€™s face it -- she was a slut whoā€™d do anything for a drink, though sheā€™d never admit to that now.  Sheā€™s all married anā€™ respectable anā€™ born-again into the middle class with two daughters thatā€™re honest kids, not fatherless bastards like me anā€™ my brother.  She really said that to me, once, leadinā€™ up to tellinā€™ me how Iā€™m the bastard she didnā€™t want to have.  But since she lived in this dinky-assed town in Wyoming anā€™

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