Tuesday, February 07, 2006

I'll come to you like an affliction, and I'll leave you like an addiction...

from the muuch greater insight file

I was channel surfing while at my mom's house last summer. I stopped on Unsolved Mysteries. To my dismay, they were featuring a story on my least favorite individual, Henry Rollins (the show was about this). Just as I was about to click away, my mom says " Oh, that's Henry Rollins. I like his show on IFC, don't you?" "Er, no mom. I can't stand that fucker", I replied. "Camille" (she always refers to my proper name when she is annoyed with me. "How can you dislike someone so much when you don't really know them?" "Oh, but I do, mom", I replied. Here's what my mom didn't know...

The time was 1984. I was 16 years old. Black Flag was at the height of their popularity and their tour brought them to my hometown of Flint, Michigan. This was a big deal, since Flint was in the mitst of a serious decline (as popularized by another one of my least favorite people, Michael Moore)evident in the film Roger & Me.

The local punk community was a buzz in anticipation of having Black Flag in our backyard. On the day of the show, we assembled early to get the party started. I found one photo of me before the show. I would have posted it but the image was blurry. In the photo, you can just see the top of a 40oz in my hand.
Before Black Flag was to go on stage, I decided to relieve my bladder of the 40oz it was holding. As I snaked my way through the crowd of people towards the bathroom, I felt myself being lifted off the ground...by my crotch. Yes, you read it right. My crotch was moonlighting as a jack point. I looked down to find my boots (of the combat variety) approx. two feet from the ground. I looked up, and saw the tops of everyones heads. I began kicking my legs. Next thing I know, I am being lowered to the ground. I spun around, ready to gouge the eyes from the "human hoist". My eyes fell upon the pumped man-pecs, onto a neck resembling a medium sized tree trunk, to the smiling face of Henry Rollins.

At this point, I'm going to make this a choose your own ending:

A. I proceeded with the double eye gouge.

B. I ran to the bathroom, horrified. Didn't emerge until the middle of Black Flag's set. Watched remainder of the show in disgust and left. To this day, wishes she could squeeze the shit out of his unit the next time he's in town (usually on my birthday) doing spoken word drivel.

C. Threw my arms around is neck of steel and joined him on tour, leaving Flint forever.

Let me know your prefered or probable ending.

My mom* will be pleased to know that IFC has extended Mr. Rollins show from once a month into a weekly talk show. Maybe I could be one of his guests.

*Mom actually found out about this event a few months after the Unsolved Mysteries day. My nephew (who is 9 years younger than me and very cool) told her. I guess he was one of the few people I told this story to. I am the only one in my family who can keep a secret, I should have known not to let him in on it.

(Here is a little something I found on MetaFilter while researching the links for this post.)
In reference to Mr. Rollins:

Wow. Overgrown jock gets blog.

I've never liked the guy, but after reading in 'Our Band Could Be Your Life' the stories of his assault on audience members & his temper problem & reading elsewhere about his alleged sexual assault(s), I've come to the realization that the world would be a much, much better place without him.
posted by item at 10:33 AM PST on January 14

Title credit of post: "Liar" by the Rollins Band

7 comments:

StripeySocks said...

*eye twitches* hmmm... i'm trying to think of a good punishment for this guy... how's about we drown him in cheese?
god, i am obsessed with cheese...
how do you drown someone in cheese?
is that possible?
i hope so.
tee hee. cheese.

d34dpuppy said...

send him over i wanna see if he grabs my stuff... then i will show him how to catch a train with his teeth

Ron said...

I've always preferred to think Mr. Rollins shoes received a nice shiny coat of urine at that particular moment...yes, I want to believe that to be the case.

Laura said...

I vote urine. What a shit of a guy. Henry, not Ron. I like the way Ron thinks. ;)

Camie Vog said...

I'm mixin' up some cheezy-urine fondue, ASAP....

StripeySocks said...

disturbing and yet extremely amusing thought.

Ron said...

Though your mentor is now toast, perhaps she deserves a Voggish Post! Thoughtful, witty, full of grace, only Fishwah can say such things to your loverly face! Mind must work, hands must type, or PBB is just CountingCrow Hype!