When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. - Hunter S. Thompson

23 July 2005

Bill in Exile: How AIDS Got Started

Our old friend Scott, from NYC, is blogging up a storm out at Bill in Exile, in which he carries on an extended correspondence with an unfortunately incarcerated friend. I've blogrolled him and have been meaning to link to one of his posts for some time, but he posted something yesterday that literally made me snort coffee out my nose.

Here's an excerpt from Bill in Exile: Bill in Exile # 82 How AIDS Got Started:
I think my hatred of piano bars started at a very young age for when my mother and I were living in New York City in the sixties she would take me to The Duplex. The original Duplex on Grove between 7th and Bleecker and not the current one on 7th and Christopher. One of Mom's colleagues who was in her English department at school moonlighted as a bartender there and would let me in for the shows even though I was just 7 or 8 years old. I remembered being absolutly tortured beyond reason by the show tune playing pianists then and the only high point was that a young, very foul mouthed female stand up comedian named Joan Rivers had started performing there and I thought she was hysterical. She was also very nice to me and would buy me Shirley Temples and creme de menthe parfaits in between her sets on the promise that I keep my mouth shut during her routine. On several occasions I was used by her as a comic foil and once she insulted my clothing so badly and then my haircut and then my family lineage that I was on the verge of tears until she bribed me with a creme de menthe parfait extra extra heavy on the creme de menthe. I always thought she might have been responsible for my drinking "issues" later in life.
The actual setup and punchline (the "how AIDS got started" bit) is just too good to spoil. So just go read it already.

Warning for those with delicate sensibilities - Scott doesn't pull many punches. Any, actually. Graphic language, verbal descriptions of homosexual sex acts ranging from the banal to the outré and arcane, and frank discussions of drug use (kids, don't try this at home) are to be expected (and hugely enjoyed by his loyal readership, of which I proudly count myself a member.)

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