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EPISODE 29: “Scar Tissue” (2834 hits)

Category: Politics

Rating: 0.9 on 15 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by <sparky19852.at.yahoo.com> (View user info) at 2004-11-21 14:46:25 EST


NOTE: This is my second post today, but the first one was so crappy that I had to do another one. Not to mention, I've been banned for two weeks, so I have a lot of stories to tell that took place over that time. Nevertheless, I promise not to post again for at least 24 hours.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I light up my very last bowl. I need it to make the pain go away. Sadly, I am broke now. Unless I borrow or steal, this will be the last pot that I will smoke for a while.

Puffing on my bong. I've done it so many times before, but never has it been like this—or, rather, never have I been like this. I still feel the scorching pain of my skin when I am done smoking, but my mind is less focussed on it now. My concentration drifts to inner aches.

I couldn't even look at the nurse in the hospital—not in her eyes, but, yes, I did stare at her ass when she wasn't looking. How could I look at her? No woman would ever want me again. Not anymore. A few days ago, I was a regular James Dean. Every chick in the state was trying to get her hands on me. Now I am a monster.

"But, Sam," you ask. "How did you get so fucked up?"

Well, if you have some hot cocoa and some Kleenex handy, I'll let you in on what might very well be the most tragic tale of the modern era.

A few nights ago I was visiting my old friends in the town we grew up in. We had bought some pure grain alcohol—that's 190 proof, folks. It's serious shit for serious drinkers, and if I were going to be remembered for anything, outside of taking girls' virginities, it would be my ability to drink.

So it was a fairly big party. It was mostly guys though, which kind of sucked. I mean, I've been to plenty of sausage parties and I always have an okay time, but I always like to know that I'll get some pussy by the end of the night. Regardless, this party dragged on and eventually I was cocked. I was shouting, falling, and having the drunken time of my life. The party went on for hours and I kept getting more and more drunk. Then, at around one o'clock in the morning, this rage hit me.

Now, when you're a sociopath, you get a lot of unique feelings that normal people don't ever really experience—and probably wouldn't want to experience. I know that it's a tough feat for me to impartially judge the disparity between the emotions of a sociopath to those of a normal person, as I was never normal, but let me give you my two cents on the issue. What I observe most from mentally "ordinary" folk is that you live most your lives worrying about shit that doesn't really matter. I think that you people feel so constantly anxious that you don't have any time for real emotions. Honestly, I doubt that people could handle the intensity of what I feel. How many of you people could tell me that you know the glorious perversion of having sex with an underage girl in a church on Easter Sunday? How many could tell me they know the victorious dominance of holding a knife to the throat of a weeping teenage "gangsta"? How many could tell me the spiritual clarity of tripping so hard that you think you're literally in Heaven? How many of you fucks could? None.

And none of you would understand the call from Satan that I received that night. None of you could imagine the deafening horns of Hell, roaring like the howls of jackals across the mountaintops. None of you would understand that bloodlust in the stomach—that ungodly need to see something destroyed.

I drove away from the party, drunk off my ass and needing to cause some damage. I went to the drugstore. It was closed, so I threw a rock through the window. I saw a wooden Starbucks sign there that I didn't like and knocked it over with my car—this cost me a taillight. Not enough, though. It was not nearly enough.

Then, without warning, the voice of Prometheus came to me. It said one word. "Fire."

I went to an old house on the edge of town, at least five minutes away from where any cops would be. An old man lived in the house. I believe his name was Bunker.

Breaking in was no big problem. One fist through the glass and I was all set. I was fully ready to do this—burn the house down and kill the man inside. He didn't matter. Well, no one really matters, but he was old and mattered less than anyone. I lit my lighter. Instantly, I saw a big wreath of flowers in the living room perfect for igniting. With one second of heating, the wreath burst into conflagration. Then it hit me; not any sense of sorrow, but a baseball bat across my skull. It was the old man.

"Get outta here, ya bastahd!" he kept yelling. "Settin' fire to my house! Ya bastahd, ya!"

He hit me again and I jumped on him. I started strangling his neck. I would have punched him, but I was so blinded in pain that I just kept strangling and strangling. Soon, I felt an intense heat to my back and I knew that I had to leave.

As I got to my feet, the old man kicked me in the groin. I fell backwards, against the wall, and the wreath of fire fell on my head.

For a moment I was dazed. Then I came to my senses and realized that flames were melting my skin. I tore the wreath to pieces to get it off of me. I was so incredibly burnt that I was weeping. I ran from the house as it began to collapse. I could barely see, but made it to my car. Pulling myself together after a moment of crying, I drove off, right as the roof began to cave in. I went to the emergency room at a hospital and was seen to. I said that I had been smoking in bed and that a flaming pillow did the damage to my face.

In the end, I was badly injured. My body, especially my skull, had had the crap kicked out of it. I was scorched so badly that I have permanent scars all over my face. I'm ugly. I mean, I'm not like Freddy Krueger or anything. It's just that I look like someone with a decade's worth of acne scars. I am pretty sure that you can tell I've been in a fire, though.

The worst part is the fact that, because I have no insurance and my parents spent their savings on my tuition, all the medical expenses came out of my pocket. They had to do re-constructive surgery, man! I just blew thousands of dollars and I have no fucking way to pay for my last two bills—one for $1,300 and one for $550. I am broke and in serious debt.

On the plus side, the old man died and the cops haven't caught me yet. Maybe someone will read this and have me arrested. Whatever. That's life.

The point is I'm fucked-up now! I'm not the same Sam I was a few days ago. I'm broke, I'm un-fuckable, and I am weak. Between the two of us, the old man was the one that lucked out. How am I supposed to live like this? Dear God, how am I supposed to be a sociopath anymore?

The THC begins to lose its effect. When I notice this, my life begins to get worse with each passing second.

*************************************
THE CHRONICLES OF COLLEGE-GUY
*************************************

Episode 1 - "The Sociopath Movement" (9-9-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/44546
Episode 2 - "What is ACTUALLY a rape?" (9-10-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/44583
Episode 3 - "My Sexual Deviant Cousin" (9-10-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/44640
Episode 4 - "First Fight at College" (9-10-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/44668
Episode 5 - "My First Sexual Experiences" (9-11-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/44693

Episode 6 - "My Sister and Her Panties" (9-12-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/44790
Episode 7 - "Grave-Robbing" (9-14-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/44948
Episode 8 - "College Wars" (9-20-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/45652
Episode 9 - "My Diagnosis" with Britney Spears pic (9-21-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/45663
Episode 10- "My Personal Savior" (9-21-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/45701

Episode 11- "A Drug Trip" (9-26-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/46157
Episode 12- "Which Stars Would You Fuck?" (10-1-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/46810
Episode 13- "The Star-Fucking Results" (10-2-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/46824
Episode 14- "I Want to Sleep With My Mom" (10-10-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/47731
Episode 15- "Here's How to Do a Butt-Post" (10-10-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/47823

Episode 16- "A Sociopath, Yes! But a Serial Killer? (10-16-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/48648
Episode 17- "My Farewell Rant to Ubersite" (10-20-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/49121
Episode 18- "The Sociopath Comeback Special" (10-22-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/49360
Episode 19- "Man, I'm Killing Myself!" (10-23-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/49406
Episode 20- "Now I'm Dead" (10-24-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/49542

Episode 21- "Einstein Told Me to Jack Him Off" (10-29-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/50062
Episode 22- "Meeting Satan" (10-31-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/50210
Episode 23- "God Lives in a Harlem Crack-House" (11-2-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/50350
Episode 24- "Larry" (11-5-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/50748
Episode 25- "The Football Team Strikes Back" (11-6-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/50785

Episode 26- "The Freethinkers" (11-6-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/50821
Episode 27- "The Post that Got Me Banned" (11-6-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/50837
Episode 28- "The Return of a Madman" (11-21-04) http://www.ubersite.com/m/52275
Episode 29- "Scar Tissue" (11-21-04) YOU'RE HERE

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User Reviews


Submitted by Totally_useless (user info) at 2004-12-27 09:24:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

Sorry I didn't see this series earlier.

I am hooked. You are appreciated.

Submitted by thundercracker (user info) at 2004-12-21 03:06:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

I will reveal my theory on Sam now.

Sam is a very crafty story teller. Probably a professional writer for a fringe magazine(s). Much of what he writes is based on real accounts with gross exaggerations. For instance. He and freinds were at a cemetary doing drugs. He probably got some drugged up chick to put out for him and his friends. They did not dig up a body. That is really, really hard and no one would dedicate themselves to that. You are talking about a massive amount of work. A pick and a shovel are useless on that one, especially at night when you can't see. You have to dig a hole wide enough to stand in and dig...SIX FEET DOWN, keeping it the same size the whole way down.

I'm willing to believe that the football team at his college roughed him up out of revenge for something previous...and so on.

He didn't burn a guys house down. In this story the roof is collapsing just seconds after the fire was started. Give me a break. So many times his stories are almost plausible then he throws in such an inane detail that tears the whole thing down.

I bet he did burn himself recently. I bet it was real painful but not 3rd degree or at least not on his face.

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2004-12-20 16:21:54 EST (#)
Ranking: -2

No Comment

Submitted by MaximusPadus (user info) at 2004-12-10 10:59:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

+2, you scarred bastard.

Submitted by Mitchell (user info) at 2004-12-02 11:45:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

you'll get pity sex. this guy i knew was using a hairspray can like a flame thrower, and it blew up and burnt his face pretty badly, but then all the girls liked him. probably some superficial shit to not appear shallow.

Submitted by stevendurel (user info) at 2004-11-28 22:21:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

Now that we all know that this stuff is REALLY fake, I don't apologise for that comment I made. Sam, you're SUCH a kidder.

Submitted by someone (user info) at 2004-11-28 16:13:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 1

Your writing is flawed but enjoyable

Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2004-11-21 21:16:21 EST (#)
Ranking: -2

No Comment

Submitted by Sepsis (user info) at 2004-11-21 15:27:11 EST (#)
Ranking: -2

Terrible.

Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-11-21 15:26:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

This post is just too bizarre to be real.

Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-21 15:11:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

I got bigger problems, man. Prison would be welcoming compared to the Hell I've been going through over the past week.

Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-11-21 15:10:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

If you provided your real name at the hospital, and if this story is true, then you'd be called in for questioning.

The police would put two and two together and realize that burnt sociopath + burned down house = perp.

Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-21 14:58:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

You need a fuckin' snapshot of my face, Durel? I'm seriously burnt!

But, you are right. The 190 proof booze probably did help me go up faster. I mean, that's just a fact of nature.

Submitted by stevendurel (user info) at 2004-11-21 14:57:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

That alcohol probably made you burn faster.

(B.T.W. if this is a true story, sorry. But, I am pretty sure that all your stories are made up).

Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2004-11-21 14:51:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment


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Treehouse of Horror