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Faggot Layer

Fungus Amongus

Here I am at 11:40 p.m. on a Monday night, writing about one of the queerest and I mean queerest thing that's ever struck me. I used to have a friend (we'll call Emitt). I believe it was 1992 when this whole mess erupted. We were all very young at the time. Emitt had just started dating Girls. He was a 'normal' kid at the time. Nobody was suspicious of him. He was just Emitt, straight as an arrow, nothing doubtful about the boy at all. Nobody thought he'd like to 'Derby the Men' or 'stab butts.' It was scary when I realized that my friend was truly a fag. I had asked him days before if he preferred Cindy Crawford or Mike Tyson. The answer: Mike Tyson and things started going downhill. We claimed that there was a slimy particle called the faggot layer lurking and swarming around inside his body and that he needed major surgery to get it removed. Thus it was malignant. I felt so bad for that poor sick boy, though at that time I didn't know better. I did call him 'Nancy Boy' and fought every way I could to isolate and make the boy feel bad. I tried to make him weep for his mommy. I wanted to observe his obvious attraction for other boys, but at the same time, I tried to avoid him. I never wanted to be in his presence before he tried to grasp a tender moment with me. When I was around the other boys, I'd ask if he needed something big to grab on to and if he'd really suck on it, what types would he prefer; hairy, spotty, what kinds? I picked on the loser of the grade, (we'll call Moose) and asked Emit if he'd French kiss Moose-the-huge-Stench and reach his filthy throat with his long 'homo'logous tongue. We harassed Emit every single day and did not ever stop to think how he felt. We made his life a living hell about something he didn't have control over. The boys would start off in school about Emitt's rear end. Yes, Emitt's rear end stinks, it's expanded from last night, he's taking pills to expand it, and what not. I could see the boy screaming inside with the strongest hostility emerging towards me for betraying our long friendship. Seeing that was not enough for me to realize I was wrong. I thought about confronting Emitt, and apologizing for being such a jerk. I wanted to tell him more than anything else that he was still the same person even though he was a queer and that fags were alright once you got to know them. I wanted to tell him that I would stand up for fags and that discriminating against any group of people was outright wrong. I also wanted to tell him that my reaction to his coming out party was normal and that all 'normal' boys were straight and that he was definitely fucked up one way or another for being a fag although that was not his fault. I wanted to tell him all this, but this was another way to set him apart from me and to prove my red blooded American Beef. It couldn't have been better for me that year; I had a blast ridiculing that one innocent boy and I made hell of a lot more friends doing it. Then Emitt was to blame again for previously being a set back for Me. When I think about what Emitt has become now, I blame myself for a lot of it. During the summer, Emitt and I spoke and decided to work at the beach club for a good amount of dough. We had to wear these light costumes with masks and perform lame magic tricks. The people were appreciative, I think, or they just felt bad for us. Emitt tried hard to talk to me like before. I needed to avoid any difficult conversations with him. I was now terribly afraid of offending him and if I started to talk about girls would he just nod off and give me the lethal limp wrist? There were some hard times and times when I just felt stuck. There was a deep guilt whenever I was in his presence, but I could not avoid Emitt any longer. I had to give him something honest. I had to keep a straight face and apologize. However, at that time, I was young and not serious or careful enough to keep myself from totally shattering Emitt's lonely heart. It totally sucked and I had no idea of what I was doing. It was like a catch 22 with nothing positive and nothing that could possibly benefit me. I had to face it that Emitt was a friend and I'd show my face to all those kids next year in September as Emitt's only friend. Of course they looked at me weird saying I was dragged into the 'other bus.' Kids screamed dirty names and I screamed back. By the end of the year I was very used to the mistreatment that I felt a satisfaction from being isolated. It was a special feeling like Emitt and I were against the entire school. Everyone hated us and that was cool. We pulled all kinds of gay scams and I would joke calling myself the 'Mincing Ninny.' We got very into the Queer Explosion Zine, and promoted all things Gay. Emitt would ask me once in a while why I was so approving and wanted to know why I destroyed my reputation for him. The best I could tell him was that I didn't give a fuck about those shitheads in school and that everyone sucked. Next summer Emitt really began expressing himself. He pierced his eyebrow and was proud to wear the pink triangle. I was scared to death for him that he might get severe gay bashing for that symbol. When things seemed to get only a Bit worse, I also became a proud sponsor of the pink triangle. This gave me an identity. My father hated me for it. My mother was embarrassed as hell to be seen around me. I only became more affectionate from being around Emitt. We were getting older now and Emitt was looking further. He was in pursuit of a man, but was afraid cause he didn't know what would become of his first experience. Therefore he asked me if I could fist him and one day after school, we went for a drive, kind of hesitant about our mission. I wondered how this could be done. We drove to get some privacy, but the sun was still out. I feared that some homophobes would come out with guns and shoot us. I did not want to be clouded with any ridiculous thoughts or anything that would stop me from helping my friend. I just looked at my watch, and it was exactly 4:23 p.m. It couldn't hurt, and I'd just gain some experience. However, Emitt did get emotional. By the time we regrouped, it was about 5:30. I drove him off and threw myself in the shower when I got home. I felt like a deranged punk whore. I didn't know what to make of that afternoon. I chose not to call Emitt and felt boiling mad at him for turning me into a true Fag. In truth, I never called Emitt again. I chose to be with Girls after a long period of detesting myself, and abusing myself. Girls were only interested because of my suspected homosexuality. I still didn't know what the hell I was. For the time being, Emitt's pursuit of men was over. He told me how cheated he felt because of the way I 'left' him. I told him I was never his Boyfriend and I would never be. I just helped him experiment. That night I called him a lewd defiled Asshole. Emitt and I ended up in total different tracks. I ended up a little bit better than the guy I was a few years ago by becoming more accepting, but Emitt became a wreck and I could care less at that time. Besides it wasn't my responsibility to make him happy. I did my time with him and I moved on. Emitt should have received some psycho therapy of some sort. He seemed very blue and sore. I'm not sure of the message I wanted to convey in this article. This was just my way of telling you about Emitt, but if Emitt is listening, I'm Very Sorry and wish to extend my most heartfelt apologies.

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