This is one of those stories that I was reminded of tonight by a friend. It takes place in various spots in Northern BC and it involves one of the nicest, most naive men I’ve ever known. His name is Frick, because the motherfricker said it so often. Seriously. The only time he would actually swear, was when he was quoting what someone else had said. The funny thing was that working in the oilfield gave him lots of opportunity to cuss his face off, while never having to actually swear. The first time I was ever in a vehicle with him was really weird. He drove extremely fast on really bad roads, all the while telling me stories with lots of swearing in quotations. I’ll try to demonstrate with Frick in quotation marks and the original quote in italics. Keep in mind that there are quotes inside of quotes, and the entire thing is a quote from Frick
I was working on a job in Dawson, when this guy came up to us and said: Some stupid cunt just parked that fucking 8R right beside the creek. So I said “I’m the “stupid cunt” that parked the “fucking 8R” there. Maybe you could tell me what this “stupid cunt” should have done with the “fucking 8R”, when it just quit working?
That story was completely irrelevant to our conversation, but it offered him the chance to cuss up a blue streak, while never actually having to say anything in his own voice. I guess when your folks are ultra religious people from the draft dodger colony, you pick up a lot of strange habits and ways to get around things. Hey, if his God really exists, he’s not fooling him/her/it at all.
On that stint in camp, was when I learned about him getting horny with National Geographic, Sports Illustrated Swimsuit, and CITY TV’s Baby Blues. Aaron and I were sharing half of a wet sleeper (detailed below), and Frick was sharing the other half with one of our foremen (I think).
Aaron and I had a good supply of beer, vodka, tunes, and TV, so lots of times other guys would end up in our half after supper. One of these nights, while we were playing cards and shooting the shit in Aaron’s room, Frick popped over for a bit. It was a Friday or Saturday after 9 PM, because CITY had a soft core porno on in my room. When Frick saw that, he was mesmerized. He asked how they could show boobs and sex on regular TV, and when I told them that they did it every weekend after the kids went to bed, he couldn’t believe it. We didn’t think too much of them, because there was no penetration and every once in awhile you could see the white tape that Shannon Tweed used to keep her vagina closed. You know, in case a flaccid penis fell in it.
The next day we were rained out, and Frick was gone right after breakfast. When he returned, he had a new satellite receiver, a dish, and 50 feet of coax. I had space on my dish, so we just plugged him into it. He was then trying to figure out what packages he needed to get CITY, and I asked him why it was so important. He told me that he wanted to watch the Baby Blue movies on the weekend, so I told him he could get SexTV and watch them every night. His eyes lit up like a little kid, but then he deflated fast.
“What if my mom sees that I ordered SexTV when she comes over? She lost it when she found my SI Swimsuit magazine last year.” (He would have been 28.)
“Just order one of the other channels in the package. They all come together, so you can’t just have the LIFE Network or HGTV. You have to take all of them. She should understand.” I told him
Within an hour, he was hooked up and we didn’t see him for a couple of weeks, except for meals and working. Meals had become a rushed affair for him too, where he used to lounge around with the rest of us, just enjoying some of the stories we used to share.
One night Aaron told me to go and get Frick out for a beer in our room, and to tell him to let go of his dick for a few minutes. When he opened his door, you could just smell it. You guys know what smell I’m talking about. It’s the smell of shame. That odor of having too much time alone with too much stimulation. The smell of pulling your pud wayyyyyy more than the thrice daily national average.
I told him what Aaron had said, and he replied, in that innocent but guilty look of the faithful, “I know, but I can’t quit touching it. There are so many shows with boobs on them.”
He then started rhyming them off, but I was still lost in the discomfort of having him explain this to me with that look on his face. Most guys will laugh it off, and say something intentionally funny, like “Hey, it’s not going to spank itself. Hahahaha” and then high five everyone with the hand of sin.
Not Frick. He just wasn’t built that way. he just told you whatever he was thinking. No filter. At all. I guess he probably doesn’t feel embarrassed about these things. Why should he, really? We all do it. Well, I do anyhow. It’s hella fun and therapeutic to boot.
No, I think what he was most afraid of was disappointing his family. Everything was a sin to those people, and they made sure he knew it. Girls can’t wear a boy’s jacket; it’s a sin. You can’t look at sexy pictures of girls and release the demons, no matter how natural it feels; that is a sin too. You can’t go to Texas and fuck an ex-stripper with crabs and then come home and kill the crabs with diesel; huge sin. No wonder kids like that grow up so fucking sheltered, when you have parents shoving beliefs down their throats and telling them that their thoughts and actions will anger this God that loves them so much.
Why does he allow them to have these thoughts then?
Fuck it. That’s a whole nother blog post right there. If I even bother with that. It doesn’t do any good, because you can’t reason with the insane. I’m going to leave off by saying: “Pleasure yourselves, children. Don’t rely on anyone else to do it for you.”
I knew a girl named nikki, I guess u could say she was a sex fiend,