February 3, 2014
Well the groundhog saw his shadow and the Seahawks won the Superbowl. That was my weekend excitement. I didn’t watch the Superbowl because I didn’t want to drink. It feels impossible to watch without having some beer at least. Even if I watched with Howard, I’d still be thinking of beer the whole time. Besides, since the Patriots were out of it, it wasn’t worth the struggle. Maybe I’d have made an effort if the Patriots were in. Instead I just isolated myself downstairs in the small apartment in Howard’s house.
But that was ok because I worked a lot more on Amon-Re and I did homework. It also got me thinking about the many identities and names I have depending on the person or people I’m with. Now I’ve decided to document that.
My name is Wall Grimm and this is the list of names and perceptions of me by other people:
WALL GRIMM’S LIST OF IDENTITIES
Bogart calls me Constable
Bogart’s mom believes I’m a threat
Iona calls me Cowboy
The Convoy thinks of me as a harpist
Howard considers me as a blues punk pain in the ass who needs a lot of advice
I am Siciliani Romani and think of myself as a gypsy pain in the ass who doesn’t need as much advice as Howard believes I do
My parents think of me as Valente, but will also call me Grimm
My sister calls me Valente
My mother used to call me Valente Spirto or Valspirto when I was a kid, and sometimes she still does
Paula thinks of me as sex according to Paula’s sister who said I was her boy toy or kept boy
Sharly thinks of me as a badboy, but she thinks well enough of me to keep me employed
Sweetheart thought of me as constructive/destructive fire, then as shelter, then as the father of her baby
I don’t know what Valentina thought of me but I know she liked me
Dave thinks of me as a challenging consumer with evil spirits ready for my beckon call to boil his innards if he should piss me off
Hasty thinks I’m a nice guy and fun even when I’m not on drugs
Pete has a sexual attraction to me that he ignores since I’m not gay and he’s my best friend so I guess he just thinks of me as his best friend
Gary Oldman II thinks of me as her pet
Gary Oldman doesn’t even know me but if he did maybe he’d think I was obsessed, which I’m not, I just tend to apply symbolic qualities and attributes to things and sometimes people
Ayla thinks of me as a chew toy, figuratively of course, and in a good way
On a similar note, Sadie and the groping guy only thought of my dick
Randy thinks I am a dick and I don’t think too highly of him either. I’d say he’s an asshole, but after just saying he thinks I’m a dick, then that metaphor would have homoconnotative tendencies which don’t apply but I’ll avoid saying that anyway even though I just did
My dick thinks I am a god when I control it, and the opposite is also the case when the roles are reversed
That woman at AA thinks of me as the guy in the kilt and from that video some people I’ve never met know me as the kilted cowboy gunslinger
The Gangsta thought of me as the annoying fuck who deserved to have a chair smashed over his head
John, Jeff, and Jay don’t know me well anymore since I don’t see them much now that I’m in recovery, but they thought of me as the unpredictable guy, sometimes dangerous I guess, usually reckless, even when I was considered to be the go-to reliable guy
Gwen thinks I’m a loser
Morgan thinks of me as a gypsy pagan great guy to have around for Beltane even without the drugs
Danika just likes everyone for the most part and thinks everyone is cool even though she’s no hippie
Some girls in my general psych class–well this requires a little backstory. I was in class on Friday and sitting in between all these girls, I had a girl on every side and corner, basically 8 girls. Then one of them farted and it smelled really bad. It had to be one of them because it was so pungent, you could feel it in the air and you didn’t want to open your mouth, it couldn’t have been anyone further away from me. Now of course, 7 of those 8 girls, the 7 who didn’t fart, had to assume it was me. The guy always gets blamed for farting, it’s inevitable. And yeah, I fart, and I fart in public, who doesn’t? But I wouldn’t fart when surrounded by 8 girls, especially that really bad shit something died inside of me kind of smell. Which raises another point. That was a carnivore’s fart. I don’t eat meat and vegetarian farts don’t smell like putrefying carcass. Anyway, when I fart in public, I also know what kind of fart is going to come out of my ass. I know if it will be loud, quiet, smelly, or odorless, loud and smelly, loud and odorless, quiet and smelly, quiet and odorless, how loud, how long, how much the acoustics of my briefs will enhance reverberation or contain a slight stank. And depending on where I am and who’s around me, I tend to publicly release only odorless silent ones. I know what kind it’s going to be because I have a sixth sense about my farts. A sixth scent, I guess. Anyway, so now 7 of the 8 girls in my general psych class think of me as the guy who farts fecal particles and molecules of decay in class.
The other students think of me as quiet and antisocial I guess, though I talk to some, and still get invited to parties. The freshman girls think of me as “the hot older guy” since they’re 18 and I’m 24. I’m the older guy. And that was a direct quote, I didn’t say that about myself. This is literally what I was told.
And Emma, well she probably just thinks of me as a lost cause.
And there’s more people, but I’ll end here. So allow me to summarize:
My name is Wall Grimm and I am
a cowboy constable, threatening harpist blues punk pain in the ass who doesn’t need as much advice as some people think. I’m a pain in the ass gypsy known as Valente Spirto, Valspirto, Valente, and sex. I’m a boy toy, kept boy, badboy, a constructive and destructive force of fire. I’m shelter and a patriarch. I am a challenging consumer with evil spirits ready for my beckon call. I’m a nice guy, best friend, a pet, and a potentially obsessed symbolism attributor. I’m a chew toy, a dick, a god, and an annoying fuck who deserves chairs smashed over his head. I’m the guy in the kilt, the kilted cowboy gunslinger, an unpredictable, sometimes dangerous guy, usually reckless, but quiet and antisocial. I’m the go-to reliable guy, a loser, a gypsy pagan great guy to have around for Beltane. And though I’m cool, I’m the guy who farts noxious fumes in class. I’m the hot older guy, a lost cause, and I’m sometimes liked. I am Grimm. I am Wall Grimm.
All summed up like that, excluding some people, their opinions, some more positive perspectives, or my own thoughts of myself….well, I guess that might just make me a good writer in the end. Either that or I’ll die alone. Maybe both.
My theme song today is “Creep” by Radiohead, and dedicated to Emma.
previous Grimm 158: Instincts, Sex, An Oldmanism, & Grimm’s First Ever Steve Martinism http://wp.me/p41c99-w2
next Grimm 160: Living With Howard, Assholes, Technology, Girls, & Pheromone Phenomenon http://wp.me/p41c99-xJ
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Hasty is based on herself from http://hastywords.wordpress.com/