I’ll Never Tell: Secret Piercings

At 17 I met this guy, James, at the park by my high school. I had been hanging out playing handball with friends from classes that we were skipping. He was a bit older, don’t remember exactly how much but he was close to 30 years old. He didn’t look it though, he was actually incredibly hot.Eventually I found out he was a mutt, Italian and Brazilian, damn those Brazilian genes make some some gorgeous motherfuckers.  Honestly at first I really didn’t think he would even be interested in me but surprisingly he ask for my number Even more amazing he actually called me. Figured he wouldn’t, the hot ones never do, especially when they know they are hot and he totally did. We actually ended up hooking up a couple of times.

Once we started hanging out for a while I found out he worked in the village doing piercings in one of those bullshit little shops. At some point he convinced me, I’m not sure how probably with lots of alcohol, to let him pierce my nipples. It was literally the most painful thing I ever experienced. He was only able to do one, I refused to do the other. Worse part was it didn’t even take. Apparently my body rejected it, didn’t know that was thing that could happen. I knew it looked like it was healing weirdly. Then one day I was in the shower and it literally just fell off my body. Never again.


Not So Sweet Sixteen


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I never really understood the whole point of a sweet sixteen. It’s like celebrating a milestone that’s not really a milestone. But some people just blindly follow traditions for the sake of following tradition. For some reason my mother one of those people, and was even kind of obsessed with it. She started talking about it and planning mine before I was even ten years old. She wanted it to be a huge affair, with choreographed dances, performers and god knows what else. She would have totally loved that show, “My Super Sweet Sixteen.” God knows she probably would have tried to copy some of the ideas. Which is totally ridiculous because we had no money, but I’m sure she would have found a way.

Unfortunately,  she never got the chance, I was fourteen when she died. I tried telling her once that I wasn’t really that into it. She laughed and said I’d change my mind. I didn’t bring it up again because I’d do it anyway just to make her happy. It’s kind of sick, when that birthday did come around I was slightly relieved. It always made me feel guilty. I didn’t understand how I could miss her so much yet still feel like a burden was lifted. I still don’t really understand it.

I had to remind my father that it was even my birthday. Instead of a big party I just hung our with a few friends and got shitfaced. I’m pretty sure a few didn’t even realize it was my birthday. (I had great friends then.) While I’ve wondered what it would have been like I’ve never really felt like I missed out on anything.




I’ll never tell


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I’m a pretty open person, what you see is what you get. At the same time there are things about me I would never tell anybody. Even the few people I consider friends I don’t normally confide in. There are just things I’d rather take to the grave. Some are stupid little things I’d rather just not admit, others are I guess a bit more serious. For now I’ll stick to the lighter subjects. Here are just a few examples.

  • I’m afraid of butterflies. I know it sounds silly. It is really dumb and I’ve learned how to not totally freak out  when I see one. But I always get paranoid one will fly into my eye and blind me. When I was a kid one flew right into my face. It came within inches of my eye. I tried to move out of the way but unable to anticipate it’s movements I went towards it instead of away.
  • I went to go see The Notebook and it made me cry. I’m don’t usually do romance movies, I only went because I got free tickets. I usually avoid any of the obvious tearjerkers, it’s about the only time I get emotional.
  • I got caught stealing from the corner store when I was ten. When I was in elementary school I used to go to the same store everyday after school. I assumed the grown men staring at me with perverted smiles wouldn’t notice. I would slip, I thought slyly, candy up the sleeve of my jacket. One day, the owner watched me carefully and grabbed at my arm and started yelling at me. I kicked him in the crotch and ran out. Never went back after that day.

There are plenty more, more serious, but I’ll share those eventually.

Trouble in Paradise


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Been staying with Jeff for quite a while now. It’s a little bit of a weird situation. I’ve had people accuse me of taking advantage of him. His parents own the apartment building and pay his utilities. So yeah I live there rent free. In my opinion if I gave him anything he’d be taking advantage of me. Besides technically I don’t really think of it as actually living there. I’m hardly ever there, shit sometimes I don’t even sleep there. I have a very active social life and it keeps me out a lot.

Anyway for the most part it works pretty well. But there is one thing that makes me crazy and might drive me out. Jeff is a complete and utter slob. I’ve always been kind of a neat freak. Even before I was staying with him I’d have to clean up when I came over to hang out. I wont say he’s dirty, though I’ve never seen him clean. But it’s just he literally leaves anything anywhere. It’s starting to drive me crazy, I’ve actually be avoiding being in the apartment lately. I lost it the other day. I had spent almost an entire day cleaning. I even organized all the kitchen cabinets. By the next day, he had clothes all over the place. I mean I found a sock in kitchen. I don’t even understand how that happens.

To top it off my beautifully organized cabinets where a mess. Like he just opened the cabinet, knocked everything over, then closed it. A can of beans almost fell on my head. Needless to say I lost my mind and blew up at him. He told me if I didn’t like it I could always leave. I didn’t bother arguing with him, it felt ridiculous. We were seriously arguing like a couple. It freaked me out and I just ended up going out. Funny thing is he called later apologizing. I didn’t answer so he left a pathetic sounding message, saying he didn’t mean what he said. He was basically groveling and begging me to come back. Not exactly sure what to make of it. I guess the whole situation is a little weird.


Glow In The Dark Weapons


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There was a period in time during high school where everybody was obsessed with glow-in-the dark stickers. Everybody covered all their books and crap with little glow in the dark letters, stars, animals, random shapes and whatever they could find. It was pretty cool, I remember one girl had a book cover done in all different fish, another had the solar system complete with all the planets, sun, moon and stars. Pretty much anything you could imagine they had, except for what I wanted. I could never find any weapons. So when I found a kit with blank sheets you could make into any shape I was excited as hell. I found pictures of guns, knives, swords and anything else I could think of to trace or draw onto the sheet to make my very own personalized stickers.

It was really cool, everybody liked them. Well everybody meaning all the other students. A couple might thought it was a little scary but that was a plus. But some of my teachers weren’t so happy about it and complained to the principal. Some of them wanted me suspended if I didn’t take them off. Not that I cared, they could of expelled me and I wouldn’t of cared. But the principal felt bad my mother had just passed away, my father had to tell everybody. She talked with me about it and sort of bribed me with help getting a job. I took them off, instead decorating the walls of my room with them. Wonder if the next people living there appreciated them.

Another Bitch To Brush Off


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A while back Jeff started fucking around with a chick from one of the neighborhood bars. She was horrible, a total two faced bitch. Every time I saw her around she was complaining or talking shit about the people she was hanging out with including Jeff. I told him he seemed pathetic, but he didn’t care. Fuck it though, what did I care. I just stayed far away when she was around. She tried saying hello and talking to me a few times but I just ignored her. Then one day she comes up to me while I’m sitting at the bar. As I was talking to a guy I had just met she taps me on the shoulder. “Just wanted to say hi. Who’s your friend.” She squeezes herself between our two stools. “Hi, I’m Eve.”

“Eddie” I turned in the stool making sure to push her aside with my legs. She moved to the other side of him pulling him to face her as she spoke. She positioned herself within inches of his face and did not stop talking. I saw him try to turn but she had trapped him in the seat. I turned back to the bar, finished my drink and waved to the bartender another one. Eventually, I heard him tell her he needed to piss, then run off quickly leaving his drink behind. After a few minutes she sat in his seat and started finishing off his drink. I spotted him on the other side of the bar sitting at a table with a bunch of guys. “You know he’s not coming back.”

“What? You talking to me?”

“Yes. I said he’s not coming back. You deaf?

“I don’t know. I mean no. What are you talking about?”

“The guy you chased away. He ran away and he’s not coming back.”

“You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Go home.”

“Oh yeah. So why’s he hanging out over there now.” I turned and pointed to the other side of the bar. Her eyes followed my finger, widening when she spotted him. “You just couldn’t get out of his face for two seconds.”

“Fuck you.” I laughed. “Bet you wont laugh when I get Jeff to kick your ass out.”

I started laughing harder, she just stared at me looking confused. When she walked away, I text Jeff to come by. She ran to him the minute he stepped into the door. I watched from the bar not moving. He saw me and walked away from her. She stared at me from behind him with her face all twisted

“Hey wassup.”

“So you’re little friend there has got to go.”

“Dude, what? Come on I know you don’t like her but I gotta get laid sometime.”

“First, you could do much better. Stop being lazy. Second, bitch is out of control. She actually told me she’d get you to kick me out.”

He looked at me for a minute before saying anything. “You’re kidding right.”

I didn’t answer him. While we were talking I could see her behind him inching her way closer and closer. I nodded in her direction when she was a few feet behind him. He turned and waved her over. She stood next to him smiling looking straight at me. “So you buying me a drink or what.”

“Nope.” She stepped back and gave him a shocked look.

“Yeah I’ve thought about it and you’re just too much of a…what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Bum. Two faced bitch. Hoe bag.”

“Yeah that’s all about right.” We both started laughing hysterically while she just stared at us.

“You can’t–”

“Shut up bitch. Come on Jeff, let’s get out of here. This place is really going downhill.”

“You’re right nothing but trash here lately.” We walked out of the bar while she stood there in shock.


Dante Has Not Died


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It’s been a very long time since you’ve heard from Dante. I just wanted to update the blog and let any readers I haven’t lost know she is still well and alive, if only in my mind for the time being. Actually she can only be since she’s a fictional character. Back to the point, I do plan on continuing the blog and will soon be regularly updating it. Although I think I may have to cut back from weekly updates to every other week.

I also have some news. I’ve opened up an Etsy shop to experiment with selling my writing in different forms. One item you may be particularly interested in. A collection of edited posts from Devilish Dante’s Domain. The book entitled “Dante’s Tall Tales” includes 12 different posts; it’s printed on pastel lilac paper with a black cardstock cover and a hand sewn binding. I also have available poetry postcards and a Drunken Poems packet. Check them out and if your interested for a limited time I’ll be providing free shipping, just use the coupon code DDDFREESHIPPING.

I’ll also be starting a newsletter this coming year. If you’d like to keep updated on my other projects, or just enjoy my writing I hope you’ll sign up for my mailing list. Just click here to sign up.


A Lesson In Anger


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My mother was a big reader, it’s pretty much where I got my love of reading. But she was always into very literary and academic writers. I tended to go for the easy reads, mostly commercial fiction. I couldn’t concentrate when writers used too much flowery language, and the classics bored me to death. I like simple stories with lots of action or suspense, the kind of thing that keeps you reading because you just have to know what happens next. The simpler the writing the better, I think. She tried to get me to read harder books but I just couldn’t get into them. If I started to get lost or couldn’t get into the story I just put it down and never picked it back up. But her, she would struggle through the most difficult things even if she didn’t find it that interesting. I never understood it.

One of her favorites was Salman Rushdie. I remember her actually reading some of his books to me. Sometimes I liked the stories but most times I was never able to get through one of his books by myself. After she passed away though I would always get his books, it seemed sad that she would never be able to read his new work. I guess I would read them because she couldn’t and it was a way to connect with her. Most of the time thought I would forget what happened in the book even as I was reading it. Sometimes I’d try reading them again, she told me that was the only way to really appreciate great writers, but I never really could get through them all the way. But there was one book, Fury, that I read over and over, even though it was the most memorable for me.

It’s really so memorable because I completely understand and can relate to the main characters problem controlling his anger. Not only does he not even realized he has a volatile temper but he gets to the point where he has outbursts and doesn’t even realize it. I at least am aware of my temper but yeah I’ve definitely had times that I totally forgot about flipping out on somebody. But like him I have times where I walk around and feel like I’m filled with anger for no apparent reason. I’ve even been in situations where I hoped for a bad confrontation with somebody just so I could have a reason to unleash my anger. I guess it’s a bad quality to have but over the years I’ve learned to control it. Once I realized how entertaining and fun it can be to make other people flip out, instead I became more of a smart ass. I have plenty of times I feel that intense anger, or fury, but I rarely have the uncontrollable outburst.


Inconsiderate Asshats


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So of all the things that bother me about other people, the worst are those that just aren’t considerate of others. I wonder if they just were never taught these things, are too stupid to understand it, or simply don’t care. I could name a million of the little things that people do on a daily basis, but the worst offenders are always my neighbors. For one it seems like no matter where I stay it sounds like a heard of elephants live upstairs. Apparently, they don’t seem to realize they are walking above somebody else’s head and stomp around.

The worst neighbors were actually when I lived in a house with my father. The whole block was private houses, most with driveways. But on one side of my house the owner rented out to several tenants and nobody used the driveway, for cars at least. Instead one of the tenants decided that it would be a great place to hang out all the time. It was a young guy that always had different people over, and at times they would spend all night hanging out and being loud literally underneath one of my windows. He also had several girls that would come over with their kids and would let them run wild making actually slightly less noise than the adults. But it all still annoyed me. If that wasn’t bad enough though they would always barbecue there. He even had the even to set up the barbecue right up against my house. Because it’s totally logical to put an open flame directly next to somebody else’s house, right under a window. So even if he the house didn’t burn down, it filled with smoke. I told my father he should say something but he said it wasn’t that serious, he was never home anyway so it didn’t bother him. So it was left for me to deal with. I asked the guy very nicely the first time if he could move it, and he did with no problem. But the next time it was right back in the same place. Again I tried to stay calm but I didn’t ask I told him flat out he had to move it. This happened over and over again. I didn’t understand and still don’t, did he think on different days it would be okay.

Finally I got tired of telling him, plus he started having an attitude. I sensed he didn’t like that I was really just a kid telling him what to do. So one day they set the barbecue but I didn’t say a word. Instead I went into the kitchen and found the biggest pot I had and filled it with water. Right after they put all the food on the grill I dumped the water on it from the window. That was the last time I ever them barbecue at all.