let me tell you brother,she's been sleeping in the devil's bed....

I had a weird realization and a strange memory sprang up at me apon waking this morning.It's just funny.I guess I need to explain first how this came about.I went out last night with a couple of friends to the Buccaneer,this little dive bar on a rather dark section of Monroe.One of them had just broken up with her girlfriend,two of them are blissfully married,the other(Shadow) is not very blissfully married to a woman who recently stopped taking her birth control,because she decided that she wants a baby(though they had decided in the beginning not to procreate)So he got sneaky and scheduled a vascectomy for a day when she would be out of town(today) and he was having one last night out with balls intact.It was all very very silly and we were all a little shmaltzy,and playing all manner of crazy songs on the fantastic jukebox.(I am a fan of the old style jukebox,rather than these new-fangled internet jukeboxes)

Then we find out that Pezz is playing.This is a punk band that (in various incarnations) has been playing the Memphis scene since I was in highschool.I ended up talking to a couple of guys that I used to hang out with back in the "antenna club"days.One of them I have known since he was pretty much a little kid.So we start talking and he tells me he cannot remember meeting me,that I have just always been around(I used to hang out with his older brother) eventually it becomes a rundown of where folks have ended up.He told me that one of our old friends,Joey, is now the preacher at his church.You have to understand that I remember when they were a bunch of dirty little punk boys.Now Joey is a man-fisher.So weird.So we go on gabbing until Shadow accidentally dumps a full glass of beer on me.I decided to go home and get out of my soggy clothes rather than accompany everyone to the lesbian bar that replaced the jungle on Madison.

I woke up this morning remembering(rather vividly) an event that happened shortly before my divorce about ten years ago.Joey and I had been hanging out,my wife was off somewhere drinking I think.So we went up to my bedroom and we were playing guitar and singing and smoking and talking all night.He decided to stay over and we tried to sleep,but it turned into one of those things where you just end up hot and bothered.We ended up kissing and making out,and it was insanely hot,but he wouldn't come across and put out.He was hard as marble all over(and I do mean everywhere) and completely on fire.I knew that he had found god and all,but I didn't see how that might complicate things,and I thought for sure that he was single....I was perplexed.He got me off several times,and finally I ask him "why deny yourself?"

It was at this moment that he happened to look up at the framed print hanging over my bed. It's Gustav Moreau.Salome toasting the head of john the baptist.Apparently that moment was the moment that he realized that he was in bed with a witch.This was a bit much for his newly converted self to handle and he left before I could get my wife up to make us all breakfast.It took me years to get that out of him,to find out why he left my bed,white as a sheet,when we had been having so much fun.Now he's a man of god.Weird where life takes you.I thought it was just a phase,the whole finding god thing.I figured he would grow out of it.eh.

I ended up going to his wedding.It was a strange mix of his church people and the old punk rock crowd.I ended up getting shitfaced with hooper,who was dressed like a gangster,but has good taste in wine.I was trying my best to keep from making an ass of myself.It never works out that way though.I ended up out on the golf course with this adorable little hippy girl named Tia that I was always getting into trouble with back then.We were smoking like there was no tomorrow and tripping over our dresses and heels and acting like we weren't up to anything.That was the last event that the happy couple ever invited me to.oh well.