Dunham was an asshole. The kind of “friend” who will only hang out with you if you have weed, and who will talk shit about you behind your back. Dunham was the kind of guy who would try to get high on morning glory seeds and nutmeg when he couldn’t find any weed. Dunham is an idiot. He is absolutely out of his mind, like Devon Sawa’s character Sean in SLC Punk. Wherever he is, I hope he is miserable.
I met him in Kindergarten. For many years between Jr. high school and MySpace, we lost touch. Then through the MySpace and Facebook years we talked from time to time, and eventually I found myself back in this miserable, shitting town, where he resided with his mother (he is gone now).
I went through a certain hell setting up medical rides, back and forth, 6 or 8 times… trying to set up the extraction of my rapidly failing teeth. There is a whole aside here that I will bitch about in another blog entry, probably the one about my damned harelip, but sedated removal fell through and I was going to have to set new shit up elsewhere, a place that would only do Novocaine extractions, no sedation, no laughing gas. My huge fear come true – of course, why not? This is how things go for me.
Since I was going to have to go through multiple more traumatizing than to the average person extractions (remember, bilateral cleft & palate & MCS) wide awake. I wanted some weed to help deal with the pain. I know very well from having my face bashed in long ago that it works, so, who better to go to to score than Dunham?
He hooked me up with a kid (an adult kid, not literal kid) and things went well across a couple of small deals (dimebags and 20’s) until one day during the biggest deal yet ($40 – not good but survivable) the kid ripped me off, the good old grab-and-run. He’s tall and 20, I’m fat and 40+, so catching him wasn’t a viable option. The kid had never done that shit before but he reeked of alcohol that night so I guess he was feeling stupid, bold and crazy. Idiot.
I told Dunham what the kid did, of course, and Dunham lost his mind. He went – I don’t know what to call it other than “Full Fag” on the kid. I say that very tongue-in-cheek and no, I am not homophobic, so hush. He posted all this stuff on the kid’s Facebook page about how his heart was broken and he was just beside himself in tears even; all fucked up from having walked in on the kid doing the hokey pokey with another local punk, a kid who fancies himself a body builder, no less. Dunham posted multiple great and whining laments about how he thought they had meant more to each other than that and why oh why had he done him so wrong like that? It was all made up, manufactured, absolute bullshit of course. It was done to humiliate the kid.
This culminated in the body builder punk threatening to “curb-stomp” Dunham, and all of the local, vapid 20-year-old little pretty-bitches turning against him completely; running to the defense of the little thief, and locking Dunham pretty much completely out of the possibility of ever getting sex from anybody from the town’s mega-hot-shit skanky little bitch crew (aka Dunham’s preferred dating pool) probably ever again.
Because of this, he got angry with ME. He unfriended and blocked me on Facebook. So, fuck him. What an asshole.
Interestingly, I think I saw him outside my window today, headed in the direction of his mother’s house on the next street over. Ew. I had so hoped that he had moved out of town. Ugh! Just one more reason to dread leaving the house – the possibility of running into him. God damn it. 😞