Changing Faces

Rome, Georgia is a pious town. We got that women’s college over on I-75, but those women’s libbers stay to themselves most the time. And although I stand to lose a goodly portion of money, I will not show “Fahrenheit 9/11” in this here movie house. Ever!

Channel Five (from Atlanta) showed up and interviewed me out there in the parking lot. Of course some damn liberals had to come along and start protesting and yelling. Those some weird ass folk, the liberals.

Three of these gals, all dressed in black with white makeup and black fingernails, I think from the women’s college, just laid there. Didn’t say a word just laid down next to each other.

That crazy, damn fortune teller from Baker’s road.

A few old hippies with that damn Rusty Jackson from back in high school, talk about a burn out. “You’re breaking the first amendment!” Fuck the constitution, I own the movie theater.

They’re lucky my brother Jethro wasn’t here. He’d have busted them up. Handed out a few knuckle sandwiches for supper. Damn hippies dancing in a circle, the old gypsy telling me she loves me.

His resistance to my love, to the spiritual truth speaks naught of his inner love and finding forgiveness. His reading shows he would have transcended planets moving, here, from card four, The Emperor, into, there, card one, The Magician. Beautiful Tarot, from Lord unto Messenger. His theatre would have become a place of knowledge, not his fortress. None-the-matter, with his planets aligned along Taurus’ horns, he would be resolute regardless of the circumstances. After all, Mars is his dominant ascendant. Unfortunately, this was his failed chance for a bigger road, the Six of Swords, here. Half a dozen sabers align pointing towards a mental journey. The man would have walked a staircase of ideas and awoken his mind had he seen the film. Sadly he’ll stay asleep.

I’ve got to stay awake! C’mon Danny. Open your eyes! Have a cigarette. Just one. Fuck you need to quit. Fucking highway, fucking hicks! I hate it when the redneck’s start banging their pots out here. Should I call Jennifer? No. She’ll call you. I-75 three hours there and three hours back. Fucking rednecks. I shouldn’t smoke, it makes my teeth yellow. How the fuck did I end up doing this?

Put on your fake smile!

“Danny, you need to be more assertive, ok? I don’t care if it’s a kitten in a tree, you better report it like it’s the end of the world? Got it?” Sure thing boss. Fuck you! Fucking local news.

Open your eyes! Don’t let the crew see you nodding off. You’ll never hear the end of it if you fall asleep. Wake up. Wake up Goddamnit!

Fucking Atlanta. It’s good being the big fish in a little pond. You gotta pay your dues. Everyone out of journalism school does the local beat. You’ll have your big break and then you’ll be set. Becker’s sick one night and you get the 6 o’clock chair.

You’re a fuck up. They know. They all do. It’s why you’re doing the hick circuit. You fuck up your job. You fuck up your girlfriends. . . I wish Jennifer would call me.

Call me Stacey. Bye. Call me Trina. Bye.

Dear Diary,

Oh my god!!! You will not believe what me and Trina and Stacey did tonight! Over at Litchfield they’re not showing that 9/11 movie so we went and DRESSED LIKE LESBOS and saw ALL THE FREAKS who were there! Like these old people in tye-dye and long hair and that creepy fortune telling lady in the commercials and OhMYGOD!!!!! Like, the Channel 5 news was there and Danny Stark was there!! HE’S SOOO CUTE!!!!!!!! kiss kiss kiss mwah mwah mwah

Well Stacey thought we should do like cheers or something and Trina couldn’t stop giggling and almost pee’d herself. So we all just held hands and laid down on the parking lot. We had to hold our breath to stop from laughing!!!!!!!!!!! I had so much fun.

Also, it’s been three weeks since me and Bobby did it, and I still haven’t gotten my period…

Fourth period. Me and Larry had fourth period together. Must have been thirty years ago. It was P.E. I feel awful sorry about it now, but you know kids. I guess I was pretty mean back then. Well, me and Jethro (the kid’s big brother, how fucked up is that?) cornered Larry in the locker room. He was like, “What you want Rusty? Jethro, why you doing this?”

Well, we held him down and rubbed dirty jocks in his face. Rumor was he was a homo. I feel like a jerk now, but we were just kids. I don’t think he ever really forgave me for it. Oh well, I can’t see Fahrenheit 9/11, guess he’s having the last laugh, huh?

Pass it dude.