The Only Good Homo is....
mailto:asullivan00@comcast.net
I haven't been hanging around here much. The doctor tells me beer's bad for my health. Like it matters much, my wife keeps me penned up most of the time, except when I managed to sneak out. A man's got to have his pleasures.
Now don't you go and feeling sorry for me. Nobody feels sorrier about how things turned out than me. I keep thinking how different everything would be if the fags hadn't moved in.
No, they're not in this place or you wouldn't see me here. Most of my troubles are on account of them. When they moved into the old "All in the Family" bar everything went haywire. Fancy lights. Little round tables. Padded God damned bar stools.
It was as if the new owner wanted their kind around instead of us, and boy, did they come. Flocking in from who knows where. Sure we talked to the new owner, telling him how we felt, having spent years of week nights tipping the glass there. It turned out he was one of them.
I guess that's why we started coming around after closing, and why we beat them up. We had to take it out on someone and we figured if enough of them got hurt, maybe we'd get our bar back. The cops didn't care much. What was a few faggots to them, and it wasn't like we did it every night or anything. Nor did all of us use baseball bats. I liked to feel the bone crunch under my fist. Even then, it took about a year for them to get the message. Busines dwindled. The owner sold the place. Now it's some kind of health food joint.
But that's when I started getting sick. Small stuff at first like asthma and cold, then later pnemonia, though the doctors said it was AIDS. I nearly killed my wife, though she denied everything and tested clean. Which made me look like a fag! And unless I did some walking in my sleep, I never did it with a man.
So how did I get it? Nobody knows for sure. But the doctors came up with one theory, saying that when we were bashing those faggots, some of their blood mingled with mine in the cuts on my fists. Hell, there was a lot of blood, and some was mine.
Rotten luck? No. Just be being stupid. I used have used a baseball bat!