049: dave

we were drinking pabst out back on the porch. probably around five in the morning at this point, this is what i was talking about earlier, how when you’re 22 time has no meaning, you just exist and eventually sleep. but toby and i were talking, he was smoking american spirit blues this time because the gas station was out of yellows. complaining about something, about how nobody cares about him, meanwhile i’m standing in a thin sweater in like 40 degree weather, shivering uncontrollably, nodding my head like, “yeah, yeah, please let me go.” but he keeps talking and i keep listening because, really, i want to sober up and drive home. he starts talking about his family, like, his parents and stuff, his sisters. has toby ever told you any of this stuff? god, his family life was fucked up. you ever hear of satanic ritual abuse?

… yeah! i know! he brought it up like that to me, just out of the blue, like it was bottled up inside him all these years. sure we were three sheets and freezing but still, i barely know the guy! it sounds crazy but he told me that his parents did that stuff to him, i don’t even know what it is and i don’t want to look. it sounds made up but there’s a wikipedia article about it and everything. so he’s talking about it, like, in some detail,and i don’t know what to believe, and he looks at me and says, “i know you don’t believe me,” and then lifts up the left side of his shirt and coat and i shit you not there’s this big, warped looking pentagram branded into his skin, on his side. he’s like, “this is the first thing they did to me,” and for a second there i’m thinking that i’m dead, that this is the end of my life. toby’s gonna stab me right then and there. but, i mean, he doesn’t. his eyes are sad. he lowers his coat and takes another long drag off his cigarette and starts talking about the broncos again. like all that bubbled up and then he saw how it affected me so he stopped talking. i feel like shit. or maybe he’s joking? who knows with that guy. i’m just reeling from him talking about it; imagine LIVING it. no wonder toby is so eccentric.

By Josh

I'm the guy who owns this site, ya dummy.

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