Tag: partying

When I was much younger I made plenty of detrimental desions thats no mystery. I was somewhere between 52-72 when one of the shittier choices I made was spending time at a local bar called The Brass Bollocks which was run by a Biker named Finely. Finely was in fact a well respected member of the community who was quick to help anyone in need and do whatever he could to fix peoples problems. In spite of Finley’s friendly reputation and welcoming nature his bar was a different story all together, and it had a reputation of its own.

The Brass Bollocks was not only a Biker Bar it just so happened to fall on a highly disputed territorial line that was constantly being fought over. The two gangs who were involved in the ongoing battle were The Heathens on one side of the line and The Brood on the other. This rivalry led to an uncountable number of drunken fights, brawls and beatings along with a handful of stabbings. For this reason Finley was in the habit of hiring unaffiliated Bikers as bouncers to work the door on busier nights.

There as one might be apt to imagine The Brass Bollocks was full of  colorful and delinquent individuals who frequented the bar on a daily basis, and I love people watching so I was completely at home. It also helped I knew all the bartenders, Finley and the bar’s head bouncer ( who went by Big Dick)  as well as a few regular patrons. One of the barfly bunch was a young twenty something guy by the name of Caucasian who’s second home was The Brass Bollocks. Caucasian always sat at the end of the bar farthest from the front door surrounded by a small group of associates who all dressed in black T-shirts with Metal bands or Biker shit on them. So I being young and a drinker just took it at face value that Caucasian and crew where in deed Bikers and paid it no more mind.

One night after a particularly rowdy night down at The Brass Bollocks I found myself back at my apartment along with Caucasian, Big Dick and there were 3-4 other people there but I haven’t a clue who the hell they were then or now (so that sucks for them). We were hanging out pounding beers, shooting the shit, and ripping through fat lines of cocaine when Big Dick remembered I liked to write. Big Dick suggested I show Caucasian a current piece I was working on and I thought fuck it why not. The piece was a violently distorted version of the game show “Press Your Luck” in the guise of a new Japanese gameshow where if you landed on a Whammy the contestant would be killed in creatively cruel and gorgeously gory fashions. The piece was a tribute to the absolutely awesome, wildly insane and often violent or humiliating world of Japanese gameshows which I’m a massive fucking fan. Caucasian really liked the piece to no end to say the least and asked if I could print out a copy for him. I printed a copy and handed it to Caucasian without a second thought as we all proceeded to keep partying until the light of day.

A week or two later at The Brass Bollocks Caucasian asked if I was interested in getting my gameshow piece published in a small magazine. Caucasian went on to explain that again it was just a small magazine, but popular locally having a small audience, and he knew the Chief Editor who he had shown my work already. Bottom line Caucasian said is if I was interested to let him know in the next couple of days about the possible publishing. I said sure thing and went about my day like any other. Over the next couple of days from time to time would find myself debating should or shouldn’t I have my writing published ending up each time totally indifferent.

A few days later again down at The Brass Bollocks I was having a beer and mulling over my decision to say yes and thusly having something I wrote published for all its worth. A woman named Birdie who I had seen here and there around the bar yet had never as much as said hello to her approached me. She sat down at the bar next to me and introduced herself she was the best friend of Caucasians wife Ariana. Birdie had wanted to touch base with me before I decided to have Caucasian go publish my piece so out of intense curiosity I asked why did she feel the need to contact me about my work and all. She told me she knew I may not be privy to who and what I was in reality dealing with. Birdie then told me that Caucasian was not a Biker but was the Head Neo Nazi of The State’s Neo Nazi Chapter (which state you ask, come on you know I’m not going to tell you.) Not only that but the magazine he was talking about having my piece published in was in fact a Neo Nazi Magazine. Well with the new information I obviously decided there was no way in Hell I was letting some Chief Neo Nazi publish my shit in some Neo Nazi Rag, and then I left as soon as I finished my beer without Caucasian noticing. I then avoided The Brass Bollocks like the fucking plague for a week or so hoping the issue would just fall by the wayside and that would be that plain and simple. Luckily for me it did by the time I returned to The Brass Bollocks the whole deal had been forgotten, and I was off the hook from having to deal any further with anyone associated with Neo Nazis.

SOME IMPORTANT SIDE NOTES:

1. Out of them all only Caucasian actually had a shaved head.
2. There was no Internet fueled Smartphone Social Media at the time this story took place.
3. At this time in society it had become acceptable for balding men to shave their head instead of getting hair plugs, hair pieces or just dealing with a comb over. (But it hadn’t yet become so accepted that anyone balding or not could shave their head and not feel like they stuck out like a sore fucking thumb.)
4. None of the Neo Nazis had racist tattoos such as Iron Crosses, Lighting Bolts or Swastikas.
5. None of the Neo Nazis ever yelled “White Power.”
6. None of the Neo Nazis wore clothing with Racist Propaganda or Nazi Emblems on them and they didn’t wear Doc Martins/Combat Boots either.
7. The Neo Nazi were very discreet in their affairs going out of the way apparently to stay off the radar, there wasn’t anyone using Racist Language/Slurs.
8. THE NEO NAZI COMMENTS ABOVE ARE TO SHOW LIFE ISN’T WHAT YOU SEE ON T.V. with rallying mobs screaming racial slurs sporting swastika arm bands or like the fucking Hollywhore movies like American History X.
9. REMEMBER its what YOU DON’T SEE that you SHOULD be scared of.