I remember it like it was precisely one month and four and a half hours ago. Dave and I underwent one of our fake fights and I thought to myself, "I'm gonna poison this cat's rep with slanderous statements!" Alas, the blog was born. Originally I was solely going to list "facts" about Dave while throwing in a few expletives for effect. I remember Dylan chuckling at the first two posts. Don't worry Dave, I've erased those babies. They happened to specify a dealer who Dave bought from -- believe me, don't give out dealers' names like they're breath mints.
Getting all nostalgic just in time for Election Day . . . don't do it Nick . . . please!
I remember that beautiful 2005 Tuesday like it was . . . stop . . . parents voted for Corzine . . . quickly, dish out a Jen and Dave tale . . . found out he won and I was like . . . so, Jen and Dave began their . . . I really like Corzine's facial hair . . . "relationship" in September I think . . . champion of gay rights because, as you all know, I'm b --
No! Okay, we're out of that. Everyone unscathed? Ha -- like I care. Moreover, let's begin another fable. This one's weird. Watch yourself.
I had returned to my apartment, from an adult video store, with a gigantic smile etched into my face. The film I purchased was called Cloudy with a Chance of Incest -- didn't understand what they were going for, but I liked the cover art. It featured a large man of presumably Israeli origin who looked vaguely like Dave. The minute I entered my room on the third floor I put the movie in the player. The opening credits revealed the director as Max Hardcore. They also revealed the star of the flick as Dave -- wait, what?
Disbelief led me to the DVD case, where I searched for his name. It was unarguably true. Dave had starred in a porno without telling me. Not an "I might . . ." Not a "I'm considering . . ." Dave often ridiculed me for some unspoken fascination I had with pornography. But this! What was this?
I ejected the disc, cased it, and threw it out my window. I called up Dave. He was immediately defensive about the ordeal. But then, before we had reached any useful conversation, he insulted my even knowing about this film -- "How the fuck? Nick, get a life." Eventually he admitted to needing money for a Mustard Plug show, knowing the director, and having an actual interest in the industry. I wanted to hug him over the phone. The honesty touched my heart. Either way, I was happy to have someone to talk about Jenna Haze with.
Underage, overcompensated, uncomparable, sneaky -- Dave had entered the record books with this "epic win."
See ya later guys. I have to phone Mr. Hardcore, eat some chocolate, and play with fruit -- all related to this contract I hope to score.
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