I urge everyone to take a look at the FINAL MESSAGE OF ENGLISH TEACHER Q, (EDIT: THIS IS NOT the original message of English Teacher Q, which was a snide and unwarranted insistance that a group of his acquaintances, including me,leave him alone forever, that he had found eternal happiness in some city in former Yugoslavia, and that he was forever snapping all ties with the past, and that we were all dead to him. This is a response to our "wake") as a good example of the kind of lunacy that descends on a person when they arrive in a new country, fall in love with a foreign woman, etc. Type #3655. You don't run away from your past, baby, it runs away from you.
Since we seem to be robbed of the privacy of email, dear old amigo:
Goodbye and God's mercy on you, you poor bastard. I've seen you try to do this at least four times, once ending in attempted suicide, once ending in jail, so don't fuck it up this time, it's probably your last chance. . . treat her right and remember that other people besides yourself exist; it might work. And watch the cheap vodka, that shit'll kill you.
P.S. It was an accidental call, apparently, not a case of somebody trying to find you.
INTERVIEW WITH FORMER TEACHER Q
MY STORY OF ENGLISH TEACHER Q COMING TO BANGKOK
ENGLISH TEACHER Q ON HIS TIME IN BANGKOK
76 comments:
Man. . . I just can't sleep. Here we are, the vast and loyal tribe of Arvin's ex-friends, and he's just vanished from our lives like a fart in a windstorm. Since we're dead to him, that sort of makes him dead to us -- I vote we have a sort of on-line wake here, reminiscing about all the good times.
My favorite time was the time he peed all over my bedroom floor in New Orleans. Man. Good times.
Dude! My favorite time was the time he stole $20 and some Percocets from me. Or did he actually do that? No scratch that, it was the time I tossed him on the floor at the house Bart was watching, and knocked him unconscious.
He was just so cute. I just loved the way he put dead animals in our cars. Are you sure you don't have his email?
Girls, no. Please. We have to respect his privacy. He's cutting all his ties with the past, forever. Again.
Man, that dude was a tool.
Please, "Egg" couldn't you think of something nice to say about him? I mean, this is the last time and all.
Well, I always kind of liked that Caddy that he drove.
That's the spirit! "Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee!"
Man. . . I always secretly wanted to bone him. With a strap on, I mean.
He wath tho cute
Boo!
"Goodbye Norma Jean. . ." I haven't been tho thad thince Printheth Diana died.
Please, John, weep not. He would have wanted us to get on with our lives, to be strong. We had true happiness once; it can abide us through the tought times.
Dude, it was "Candle In The Wind" not "Goodbye Norma Jean." Or was that the same song? Geez. Dude, fuck it, let's do "Stairway to Heaven"
Dude, I'm thrashing in memory of him right now.
Stawp! Poot down yore pencils!
Mother! Must you always embarrass me like that!!!???!!???
Please, please. NO bickering tonight. Tonight we, are here to honor a very special man, a man who always had a kind word for everyone, despite all the hardships life handed him. A man whose patience, honesty, and undying devotion through thick and thin were a model of . . .uh, well, actually, I've lost my train of thought. But, uh, stop bickering, you guys. Respect the gravity of this moment. Again.
So, was it the first, second or third time this happened, or this time, that you're most heartbroken?
Well, the third and this last time have been the worst. Because frankly, he's owed me $200 since 1995.
Obviously you've let the cynicism of some of the other guests overwhelm you, ETX. He was always such a nice polite young man during his hearings, when he wan't making terroristic threats.
I'll just miss it so, the constant wishing of everyone around him dead, the irrational, pointless and obvious lying, the total inability to accept blame or responsibility for his actions,. . . and now it's just. . . GONE ALL GONE OH MY GOD BOO HOOO HOOOH HOOHOHOHOHO
Thteve! Pleath! Come on into the other room and relax! Have a drink!
Dude! Have a bong hit. At least you never had to live in, like, that little trailer by the college for a summer, with tinfoil on the windows, and him irrationally keeping claim on the bathroom on my end of the trailer.
That's true, Ghost of Brett. It's nice of you to stop in and pay respects from the Netherworld, by the way, man. We miss you. You jammin' out up there with Page and Joplin and Morrison?
You know it, man. I'm schooling those guys! Maybe Creepyhead can pay tambourine with us when he gets up here.
That's a comforting thought, man. Thanks. Not as comforting as the thought of $200 in my paypal account, of course, but comforting enough. Plus the $125 bucks I wasted after arranging a holiday with him in Amsterdam. Gosh, "Mi casa su casa" were his last civil words directly to me. . .
Anyway, we have to get ready for when B arrives. He'll be heartbroken, I know he wanted Creepyhead to come over and vomit some hepatitis-ridden bile all over his 6-year-old daughter.
I'm ready for the party; I just plastic wrapped my daughter in case Arv crashes the shindig. Hey ghost of Brett, stop trying to rifle through my coat pockets!
He was so proud of that Gummy Bear but he never mentioned the entire bathroom drawer of toiletries that he had me shove up his poop chute.
What can I say. Whether it was his staying at my place for months (years?) on end,listening to the soothing sounds of his morning vomit, or praying that he was sober enough to have taken the guy he brought home from the gay bar into my spare room before having sex with him, it was always a show.
He provided so many diversions; keeping him from getting beaten up at clubs, keeping him from getting arrested for (insert petty crime here)or my favorite, guessing whether the blood in the bathroom came from his vomitus or his rectum.
As we mourn his passing, we should remember the good things. Like the fact that I never mistakenly used his razor.
And of course now that he is far away he will no longer have to constantly lie to his only friends about eating Mexican candy that was tainted with lead to explain his not so mysterious constant illness. Although if I know our Arvin he'll be telling some pointless lies that his wet brain can't keep straight to the person he is currently using.
So I guess, barring his actual death, which may not be far off judging from his farewell picture, we'll get together in another few years so he can once again sever his ties with his friends he hasn't seen in years. I vote we meet at the Olive Garden, I LOVE their bread sticks!!
Good day, my name's Rusty and I've been ripped off by a lot of people. Just got back luck I guess. But once Arvin stole a bunch of stuff from my room including some good weed. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Arvin has stolen from so many people that it was the one time that I didn't feel like it was me being a poor schmuck but just him being the crook and liar we all know and love. Anyway, I just came here to hang out with the ghost of Brett... we've been best friends for 22 years.
I remember when X and I were at odds with each other and I told Arv that I was writing X a letter to bury the hatchet and Arv told me to rip it up and throw it in the garbage because that is what X would do as soon as he recieved it. He was always quick with advice, especially when it involved keeping other people away from X, the one person he has always been madly in love with. Why are we having this wake now, didn't Arvin die a few years back?
Wait...didn't I sever ties about a year and a half ago after you had again screwed me over?
"Thats why I started cutting all the dead wood out of my life. No one screaming about this or that, the price of beer, laughing as people die in fires, or earthquakes. After a while it's just so mentally taxing you have to get away from it or it grinds you right down. Hence giving Arvin the blow off".
From an email to English teacher X.
8/28/05
And here are a few choice quotes from our last reconciliation after Arvin had gotten out of jail and perhaps had a moment of clarity.
"Dear Matt,
First of all, I want to apologize to you for my poor behavior of four years ago (can it really have been so many years...?) and my letting my own pettiness interfere with one of the few real friendships I have in my life.
Having been in jail, I've had a great deal of time to think about my life over the last few years, and I came to the conclusion that I've been remiss in a lot of ways".
Obviously words not worth the paper they weren't written on.
But as I said, I kicked him to the curb so he took up with a friend of my girlfriend at the time.
Of course she literally kicked him to the curb in Memphis, driving off and leaving him at a hotel after his insane astrology based travel demands made them miss their flight to Amsterdam. I was told he cried like a bitch when they missed their flight. And of course never gave her money back for her plane ticket.
One more passage from an email he sent me after Arvin got out of jail and wanted to unsever some ties...
" Thanks for the offer to help me out. ...it means a lot for you just to offer. Man, am I sorry about these last lost years. No way I intend to let that happen again...we'll be connected until the bitter end."
Hmm, the end wasn't bitter at all.
Please, lets not get all gooey and wordy here: let's stay focused on the important issues: the blood, the bile, the vomit, the pee.
Man, I don't know why I never kicked the shit outta that little pussy back at high school. If there's another world, I'm gonna kick the shit outta that faggot in it.
Look, it's very easy to let our emotions run away with us at a time like this. Let's try to remember him the way he was, a peaceful memory. Like the time he passed out from surgery pills in a park in Bangkok and I had to virtually carry him across the entire city, while preventing him from screaming and drooling at total strangers and police officers.
We have wronged him deeply, obviously: one of us should have smothered him with a pillow long ago, like at the end of ONE FLEW OVER THE CUKOOS NEST.
Dude it's awesome though. Obviously he's found that place where a man can be truly APPRECIATED for his skills at petty theft, his careless abuse of people's hospitality, his dishonesty, his alcoholism, and his obsessive compulsive neurosis.
I always secretly envied him. Deep inside me, there was a Creepyhead waiting to get out.
Man, I just heard about Arvin's passing, so I'm going to go ahead and blow up the kitchen and set myself on fire.
Dude, man, can you lend me five bucks?
You know, Matt, I heard that in England, you can get paid money by the state if you give lodging to a certifiably mentally ill person, qualifying as a hospice or a caregiver. Too bad you guys didn't live in England eh, you could have doubly ripped off the welfare state.
By the way. . . I'm afraid I'm going to have to break up with you, Ghost of Brett. We're finished. Get out, now.
Dude! What did I do??!!
Just get out man. I don't want to hear it.
And the great thing is, since we're dead to him, we won't have to receive 6 page emails insisting that none of these things were his fault or that they didn't happen, for example that he somehow deserved several YEARS of free rent from Matt for the $300 and additional Big Lots chicken breasts he added to the household.
I truly thought Arvin was my soul mate because we both enjoyed putting on airs as if we were crazy, lying and stealing shit... our three greatest passions. Then, after spending a night on LSD with him I awoke to find that my vulva was missing and then my doctor discovered that someone had shot semen into my eye sockets while I slept. I realized that while I was damaged, he was in fact completely batshit crazy. At least I got a script of Loratabs out of the deal.
I see that Arvin erased his "GOODBYE FOREVER" again post, since it would have made him look like a complete fool for making such grandiose statements only to erase and re-write his little blog not 24 hours after his "ex-friends" gave him a proper send off.
Of course we all knew this would happen, but so soon?
But maybe, just maybe this time he really means it (5th times a charm!) and he won't feel compelled to break his self imposed exile with his delusional responses. But I fucking doubt it.
As for Matt owing you money, perhaps you two should settle up, make a clean break. He can add up 4 years of rent free living, child care (you), invalid care (again you), his sister's law services, the money he sent you in SF after you tried to kill yourself and your roommates kicked you out, etc.
Speaking of law services. lets review a few of our favorite criminal enterprises from our ex.
For starters how about the time he got caught using a stolen credit card, fled the state and lived on the run for years. And the DWI, and when he finally came back to Memphis and his own family turned him in, a pattern that would repeat itself.
And of course there was the time his aunt didn't pick him up from the mental hospital so he went to her house, got drunk and destroyed everything she owned. He was found hiding in the closet by the police. God, who would have thought they would have looked in the closet? Thats the last place Arvin has been for years. Hitler shouldn't have bothered with an elaborate bunker complex, he should have just hidden in the closet and resisted arrest when the Russians showed up. Criminal genius I say.
He has been able to successfully elude paying Steve the money he stole from him for over a decade. Quite the resume builder. And while yapping about Matt owing him money, he neglects to mention the $500 he owes Angie for his abortive attempt at international travel.
So perhaps this IS really the last time we hear from our ex-friend, but I really doubt it.
Historical revisionism indeed. As you no doubt remember but won't admit it was I who told you to beat it and not come back til you had learned to take some responsibility for your actions. And to stop bitching til it drove us all crazy.
You need look no further than a few posts upwards to see a prime example of Arvin crawling back on his knees, an option that thankfully he will not be given again.
Making someone disappear by loaning them money eh, well it certainly didn't work on you. You continued to pursue Steve, the love of your life, across the globe.
Steve never mentions the money you owe him, I'm sure a decade of waiting his cooled him on the idea of ever getting it.
You also seem to forget why I bought up your markers with Steve and Angie. Angie threatened to go to your probation officer about the money you took and you caved liked Carlsbad baby. Despite all our suspicions, five year (taking it) in the can didn't appeal to you.
One wonders how you would know whether I had paid Angie or not. Like most people you know, she doesn't talk to you. I mean before you stopped talking to us that is.d
AAAIIIEEEEE! OH MY GOD!!!! I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD!!!! AAAAAHHHH!!!
http://www.creepyhead.blogspot.com HE SPEAKS FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE!!!
Where did Q go?? Back to the States?
I mean, if that's the case he'll log on and be with you all in the spirit of cyberspace.
Has the dmeon been sent back to hell? When we were in the facility together, he ruled me and the other patients with an iron fist! By iron I mean in that cold metallic way where someone is nice to your face, spews lies like a South American pissing video and yet expects you to believe the sincerity when even Wally, the lobotomized ex-rapist, knows he's full of more shit than the colon of Dom Deloise. We will throw a little party today knowing that he won't be back to make our little nook of crazy just a bit more sinister... and a whole lot more crazy!
Hey dudes and dudettes, what's crack a lack'n up in here? I see ghost of Brett over there... slammin! Hey. there's the Egg Man hitting on that girl that looks like a lizard; you go Egg! So I just heard there was a party but didn't recognize the name. Arverd? Aving? I think I cornholed him once. Laura Laser you fine piece of ass, come sit on Uncle Bobby's lap.
Good Lordy, Arvin posts more in his blog to us after he "severs" all ties than he did in the year and a half preceding.There is another one up today.
Ok, we get it, u no likee us, u cut all ties, so go away already. So quit writing stuff your grossly oversized ego just cries out for us to see. We're dead to you for Chrissakes! You can't blog the dead!
And yes we'll all keep checking your blog every few days for the moment because we all know you have to (try) and have the last word.
Please quit being our friend! You promised!!
So Arvin posted YET ANOTHER response along with an illustration depicting a "righteous" man beset by demons.
He said it captured his mood.
Now it appears he has taken his post down, again! Perhaps he has realized that you can't sever ties with someone if you have some sort of back and forth blog off with them.
Oh truss me miho, he really likes da, how you say, blog off. Specially with the rusty trombone reach around.
Dude, this is a beat scene. Man it seems hard for Arv, er I mean Marsh... I mean Jerem... Q yeah, that's it, Q... anyway he seems to have a problem really letting go. Dude, its just like me and a chick; I bang em then cut em loose. Its all just a hole anyway. Dude, cut loose already and stop hanging around and evesdropping on our wake. You're dead, so go somewhere else and let us mourn!
Actually, yeah, my first thought was "If he manages not to reply, he might actually have a chance at starting a new life."
Arvin himself said something once along the lines of "New Arvins are like New Coke -- they eventually fail, and revert back to the original formula."
Had he just stuck to his story and really severed all ties he might have been taken seriously. But old dogs and new tricks, as they say.
So to recap..
He posts his good byes saying he will NEVER contact or speak to any of us again.
He breaks that solemn vow not 24 hours after we first notice his post and begin to hold a wake for our ex-friend.
He then erases the post and in its place posts another, less final, more argumentative post.
We continue to hold a fine Irish wake for our friendship.
He posts yet AGAIN, this time the theme more or less being his martyr complex and his denial of his pathological lying, stealing, and complete lack of remorse for his ill deeds.
He quickly takes the post down, but not quickly enough. The poor fucker can't even divorce himself from his old life correctly.
Fortunately, his old life did that for him long ago.
AND THIS JAIIILBIRD YOU CANNOT CHAAAANGE..
Dude! C'mon! About that five bucks!
Dude! C'mon! About that five bucks!
Damn it, Ghost of Brett! I said, you're dead to me. . . oh. . wait. . you're dead to everybody, aren't you.
Wow. . . 57 Unique visitors on Thursday, 43 so far today. It's too bad you took down the post with the picture, Arvin, you might find yourself recognized as you're sunning yourself on Genocide Beach there in the former Yugoslavia. "Hey, you're that crazy guy from the English Teacher X blog!"
I'm struggling to find a record of your original histrionic message in my temporary internet files, but so far, no dice. Too bad.
"Hey! It is you! Do that thing where you vomit on the six year with hepatitis!"
Genocide Beach, eh? I'm buying the next ticket out, and I'm bringing a big fucking jar of good ol' fashioned Arkansas Whupass!
Well, I suppose we could just post a bunch of pictures of him, and a decription of his likely whereabouts, with the message, "ABSOLUTELY DO NOT BOTHER THIS MAN IF YOU SEE HIM. HE IS SEVERING ALL HIS TIES WITH HIS PAST. DO NOT GO UP TO HIM AND ASK HIM ABOUT HIS JAILTIME, HIS DEBTS, HIS SUICIDE ATTEMPTS, OR HIS MENTAL PROBLEMS!"
And just think, all this started just because I called him "worthless barrel of monkey spunk" after I wasted $125 buying a ticket to visit him in Amsterdam, despite the fact he had no intention of being there.
Why, I could have called him a "lying, hysterical, cum-gargling hairy-backed alky-bum" or an "asscrack gobbling pillhead lunatic"
I think what I'm going to miss most about Arvin now that he's dead is his ability to bring the rest of us together. In his death we have grown closer and his corpse is barely starting to smell. Man, all we needed to do was send Arvin around the world and waring nations would join forces against him. He was The Great Unifier!
Yes. . . I agree, this is more fun than kicking a retard to death.
Sweetie, I know you are used to this but God, you really got ass raped by your ex-friends after you cut ties with them.
They certainly did have a lot to say didn't they. It makes you wonder how long they had been waiting to say it. Actually you've probably heard most of it before.
XXX 889 6530.
He could turn even the simplest of activities into an adventure, it must be agreed. . . for posterity's sake, let me recall the time that I went to an afternoon matinee of the film SWAT with him, and he got incredibly drunk on a bottle of vodka he'd snuck in and began shouting obscenities at the screen. (Mostly "cunt" and "whore") I quietly moved myself away from him, and fortunately he eventually nodded off; then when I took him out of the theater, he suddenly decided he wanted to fight, and tried to hit me. I stepped aside, and he went clattering painfully on the concrete, scraping both knees badly.
I decided I needed some food before trying to drive home, as I'd had a few vodkas myself, so I drug him to a nearby McDonalds, where he sat down at a table and began laughing hysterically for no particular reason. The management inquired, worriedly, whether he was okay, and I assured them he was.
As satisfying as it might have been to leave him there and let them call the cops or the mental hospital to cart him off, I then took him home, where he fortunately passed out. And bled all over Matt's couch.
Man. . . you ungrateful bastards, how could you wish a guy like that ill?
Well, your loss is Croatia's gain!
Once, in high school, I thought about fucking Arvin because there was a period where I had been inserting various things into my vagina in a fit of experimentation... like Funyons, my dog's dick, razor blades wrapped in a muffin and a few rolled up issues of Tiger Beat. Then I saw that he was pure evil and if I wanted evil in me then I would just fuck my dad again. Go Bush!
I think my favorite memory of, well we called Arvin back then, was the time Philip Jones made the mistake of inviting him on some sort of lake outing.
He pretended to be drunk and attempted to molest both Jill Rice and me. There was lots of accidental breast grazing and penis jokes and of course his constant threats to expose himself.
I remember we were all sitting in a van and after repeated threats to expose himself I finally told him to do it. Jill Rice looked horrified, dumb but horrified. I calmly asked him to pull out his penis and show Jill and me. He laughed at first until I repeated my request with a bit of a sneer this time. You could see the confidence drain from his face. So I asked him again.
Of course he lacked the *ahem* balls to actually do it and was made to look like a fool in front of a van load of people.
At this point he really did begin to get drunk and became even more grabby. I'll never forget Philip Jones, who was driving mind you, turning around and slapping Arvin like you'd slap a girl.
Arvin passed out a short time later and in the days and years to come first claimed that it never happened, then that he didn't remember it and finally that he never took such a trip.
ARVIN TRIED TO RAPE ME!!
Arvin killed both Kennedys! And Martin Luther King!
Dude!! Head in the freezer!? Heelloo! Did you guys forget already!?
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