For easier access to individual posts, you can refer to the Journal Entries Index Page where the posts are numbered/titled chronologically with the links to each post.

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 200: Grimm on the Hunt

July 25, 2014


Bogart called Ashley Wednesday night while I was at work.  Pete and Cola instructed him prior and he had notes all written out kind of like a sales person.  ‘If the person says this, you respond with…’ etc.  Ashley wants to go out but she wants to meet at a public place and she wants to bring her friend and her friend’s boyfriend.  Bogart said ok but he wanted to bring his friend and his friend’s girlfriend.  He meant me.  He told me when I got home from work that he’s never been on a date before and he wants me there to make sure he does everything right.  He actually said that he knows he’s kind of insane and he wants to learn how to be a real person and interact with real people and not be a delinquent, a criminal, or a patient anymore.  And of course I want to help him with that, which is the reason I invited him to live with me.  The only way he can learn to be a 22 year old guy is by being immersed in a world of people around his own age.  Kind of like learning a language, total immersion works.

Anyway, I don’t have a girlfriend and Iona is taking a break from me.  I had some girls’ contact info in my phone, but that phone fell in the toilet at Sharly’s the night I performed for Emma.  I’ve since gotten a new phone, but I lost most of my contacts, those I didn’t know by heart or couldn’t find out through a little research.  I thought of asking Ayla, since at least it would be guaranteed that I’d get laid or a blow job or both, but I decided to go looking for a girl.  I heard from Snow White the other day and unfortunately she won’t be coming up to visit.  It has to do with time, money, and a bunch of different things going on for her.  I was kinda looking forward to her visit, but shit happens and then you step over it and keep walking.

So yesterday, I decided to spend my entire day looking for a girl.  I figured if I failed, I’d try again today, and if I still failed, then I’d ask Ayla.  Our plans are for around noontime Sunday, but they’re up in the air in terms of where we’re going or what we’re doing.

At first I couldn’t think of how to meet a girl.  I don’t think I’ve ever ventured out specifically for that purpose before, unless I was going to a bar, and it wasn’t the only goal, rather it was more of a fringe benefit.  But I’m meeting less girls than ever since I don’t do anything that gives the opportunity for meeting them.  Not like going to bars.  Plus without the alcohol, I tend to be more apprehensive about approaching.  There are a bunch of different girls that come in the book store sometimes.  Sharly calls them my groupies or my fan club because they like to talk to me or they talk to each other about me, Sharly’s heard them talking.  But they’re all youngish.  And I realized yesterday one reason why I lean towards older women, because they’re obviously not teenagers.  Some of those teenage girls look like twenty somethings and that freaks me out.  I’m kind of traumatized from the Lauren incident, I guess.  I’m going to be 25 in a couple of weeks and I draw the line at 20, not even as young as 18.  I guess because 18 is too close to high school.  And I’ve seen those girls at college, they seem so young to me.  Speaking of college, that’s a great place to meet girls, but my entire first semester back I was invested in my performance for Emma, so I was too distracted.  Except for the sorority girl incident with Cassidy.  That put me off college girls, at least temporarily.

Anyway, so I decided, after much thought, that the best way to meet someone when you don’t go to bars is at a place that you personally enjoy going to, because there’s at least that shared interest.  I thought of a book store.  I work at a freakin’ bookstore.  But like I said, my groupies are youngish, and the girls, or I should say women, who come in that I would be interested in, Sharly probably wouldn’t like it if I were to flirt or hit on them, since I’m in a professional position.  Well, they need to flirt first at least.  Besides, I’ve been sleeping with Iona, distracted in life otherwise, so I just haven’t bothered to put the pheromones out there, until yesterday when I went to Barnes and Noble.

I thought a book store would be best, because I like a girl who likes to read.  I planned to spend the entire day there until I had to go to work.  I sat in the café drinking cappuccinos and finally finishing Steppenwolf.  I’ve decided to make it a point to read every day now.  I used to read more, then there was all the drugs and alcohol and my being generally fucked up that ended the habit of reading.  Plus with my brain injury from the Gangsta, I have processing issues, so reading can be a slow and painful process, which sucks.  The processing problems otherwise are tolerable, because it usually happens in conversation with people, and since I tend to be quiet, it gives me time to devote to interpretation before I’m ever expected to say anything.  My psychicisms and intuition help to offset some of that lapse though.  One on one is easier, it’s when there’s a lot of people, it’s hard to follow everything everyone is saying.  Also, I’m forgetful, and I’ll sometimes forget what I’m doing or where I’m going.  My mom tells me that’s what it’s like to get older.  So I guess that by the time I’m at the age when that normally would start to happen, I’ll be freakin’ senile.

Anyway, I sat in the café reading, and occasionally walked around the store.  I was there from 9am after running until around 2pm.  I had to work at 5.  I had just finished my book and was thinking about giving up.  I probably missed some girls while my face was in the book anyway, but then SHE came in, and my heart dropped into my stomach, and my nerves made me kind of tremble.  The caffeine wasn’t helping.  I watched her walk up to the counter and order a coffee, then turn around and walk out the door.  Ok, so she didn’t get a book or read, but I also like a girl who likes coffee…

…However, I can’t finish this story now, Invisible Journal Reading People.  We’re going to the beach today.  Bogart has never been to the beach.  Pete has to work, and Cola’s going to Boston for the weekend because she has a studio where she works on her art, which I just learned about.  She’s been working in her room here now that she has more space than in Howard’s basement with me.  We actually allowed her the largest bedroom in the apartment for that purpose.  But yeah, the plans for the beach happened spontaneously last night with Astrid.  It will be me, her, and Bogart.  And so now I have to stop writing and get ready to go.  We’re going early so we can get back in time for me to work.

I’ll have to tell you about the girl another time.  I think I might be in love with her.  But it’s hard to tell, because it’s almost impossible to tell the difference between love and wanting sex, until you have sex, then you know it wasn’t love, but you just wanted to fuck her, but you’d love to fuck her again.  It’s just how I’m wired, I guess.

Yet with this girl, I believe it’s different.

My theme song today is Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” because Bogart likes early 80’s music, including Duran Duran, and yeah it works thematically.



previous Grimm 199: Bogart Meets a Girl

next Grimm 201: Grimm Meets a Girl


For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to:

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 185: Iona, the Theme of Random, & Psychotic Mental Vomit

May 10, 2014


I went to Iona’s this week in between classes and when I knew she’d be home.  I wanted to apologize for being rude the other night and she was very forgiving.  She seriously has got to be the nicest girl I have ever known.  It would be ideal if I was in love with her.  Although, she’d probably let me do whatever I wanted and it would create a pattern of my being a pain in the ass loser, and her forgiving me.  I’d be too free to make mistakes.  I don’t know how to describe that without sounding like an asshole.  I wouldn’t purposely take advantage, it would just be a situation that we’d settle in.  It wouldn’t involve cheating, because if I’m in love I won’t cheat.  So I don’t know what it would entail, I don’t know… Shut up, stop asking questions, Invisible People.

Anyway, I went there and it was a beautiful day, finally it felt like Spring.  It’s been raining after two days of that.  But that day we decided to go for a walk, but she wanted to shave her legs first.  She got in the bath and I sat on her couch playing with Gary Oldman (II), who still goes pretty much everywhere with me, I just don’t always mention her.  And I was wearing my Eastwood and Stepping Wolves.  Iona still calls me Cowboy mostly, even when I don’t.

I was on the couch and after about a 1/2 hour I hear all this splashing going on in the tub.  So I walk in the bathroom and I’m like, “what the fuck are you doing, swimming in here?”

She kind of screamed, startled.  She was on her hands and knees in the tub and sat down and said, “oh my god, get out!”

hmmmmmm, thought I.  Then I asked if she was drowning and wanted me to save her.  She laughed but told me to get out again.

When she came out, she was embarrassed, but she explained she was helping the water bring the hair down the drain.  If she doesn’t do that, then there’s little hair stubble bits left in the tub.  But I asked her why she was embarrassed and what was the deal anyway because it’s not like I haven’t seen her naked.

She told me that she’s not happy with her body and that the times we’ve had sex, she has to psychologically prepare herself for that and sometimes force false confidence enough for it to happen.  Then she told me she wanted me to help her lose weight and get in shape.  I said I don’t really know how to help someone do that.  She said maybe I can go running with her, so I said I would.  She told me that she’s scared to run alone because she’s been watching the show “Missing” on Netflix, and she’s also afraid people will make fun of her as they drive by.  I hadn’t realized how insecure she was.  So I guess we’re going to start running a few days per week together.  I try to run every day, unless something comes up to take that time from me, but the more I stick to a routine, the less that happens.  She just wants to start with 3 days.  And she has a car, I don’t, so she can drive to meet me wherever or she can pick me up.

And that’s all I have to say about Iona.  Now I’m going to finish off my journal entry with 5 brief and random things:

1. Cola and I went to Pete’s one night and the three of us watched “The Big Lebowski”.  Sweetheart was in her room resting because she was sick, so I had made some soup for her and brought it over.  I make a good soup.  Anyway, we watched Lebowski, and since then, every now and then, one of us will say, “The Dude abides.” and another one of us will say, “Shut the fuck up Donny.”  Mostly it’s me and Cola since I don’t see Pete that much, but we will text it.

2. Speaking of texting, I’m sick of that bull shit.  One thing I can’t stand is when I’m having a conversation with someone and their face is in the phone the whole time.  It’s different when you’re around that person every day, like a roommate or something, but when you’re in the company of someone you don’t see that often, it pisses me off and I think it’s rude.  All I can think is, ‘can you please get your fucking face out of your fucking phone while you’re having a fucking conversation with me.’

3. Speaking of being rude, sometimes I am self sacrificially polite, when I’m not wrapped up in my own shit.  When I’m wrapped up in my shit, I fall into patterns of rudeness, or what I perceive to be as rude, not that other people do, though they probably do.  But the ironic thing is that rude is often more honest than polite.

4. Speaking of honest, every now and then I encounter a person who gives me the sense that they are able to read my mind.  It’s weird, I know.  Either I sense they can, or I start to imagine, ‘what if they can?’  The moment I think someone can read my mind, or I get into a strange thought process about the possibility, I begin to think tons of horrible things uncontrollably in this psychotic mental vomit, then I think in my mind for them to hear, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t really think like that.’

5.  Speaking about how I think, I’ve been realizing how shy I am, more and more, ever since I’ve quit all the substances that disguised my shyness.  For example, there are times when I’ m out alone in a kind of social environment, not public when being alone is awesome, but being in a situation when there are a lot of people around for an occasion and I don’t really know anyone or I don’t know them very well, such as if I were to go to Emma’s graduation/going away party.  I don’t really want to converse with anyone, I feel shy, but then I feel awkward if I’m just sitting there, and it’s social, so I can’t have a book or a notebook, that would just lend to the premise of my antisocialism.  Instead I just sit there staring off trying to be invisible so I don’t appear purposefully antisocial or the least bit lonely, which I never am lonely, just shy.  I try to do something with my hands but I don’t want to break out my cell and fall into that texting thing I was bitching about, the habits my generation is trapped in, the general inability to cope without technology.  And of course I text, but I only have a cell because it’s my phone and I carry it for emergencies, but I text because people text me or because I’m making plans and I’d rather text to make plans than talk on the phone because on the phone I have nothing to say because I am shy and private.

And yeah, there are themes running through all those random things, as well as my bit about Iona, but why should I have to explain or make it obvious.  Shut up Invisible Journal Reading People.  And random is itself a theme for me, which is an oxymoron pretty much, as my theme songs suggests, although it helps that I’m Italian, but it is also subtly relevant.  It’s “Shaddap You Face” by Joe Dolce.

Shut the fuck up Donny.



previous Grimm 184: Future Potential Domesticisms & Hating Love

next Grimm 186: Bogart, Men-Haters, Sensuality, & Other Stuff

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 184: Future Potential Domesticisms & Hating Love

May 7, 2014


I went to see Bogart on Saturday and he told me that he might be getting out in maybe a month, so at this point, I’m not sure what that means in terms of how I might be involved in his life, if I am at all.  I just know that Howard and Daisy found a place to move and their house is on the market, so I’ve been looking around for a new place.  I have no idea what kind of place to look for though.  I have many possibilities.  My name is Wall Grimm, and these are my options:


1. Move to Spain with Emma or Emma stays around here after I woo her with my song and we live together.  Probably not happening.

2. I find a place with Cola.  Most likely situation.

3. Maybe we will rent a big house where Pete and Sweetheart will move in as well.  Must have a large bedroom for me where I can barricade myself.

4. In any of the above situations, it is possible that Bogart might be involved somehow.  Disconcerting prospect.  The guy’s great, but what would it be like living with him when I’m not myself mentally unstable.

5. My ideal situation would be living alone.

No matter what, I don’t want to sleep on the floor or the couch anymore.  Every time I have a place, I end up on the couch after giving someone else my room.  And that’s never temporary.  My room becomes their room.  So I’m liking the house idea.  I’m just looking around for various places–apartments, townhouses, houses, even studios in case I do get to live alone.  I figure when I encounter the right place it will be obvious.  The optimistic fragment in me also doesn’t want to commit to anything until after I serenade Emma.  However, after Saturday night and a conversation I had with Iona, the reality of it has been hard to accept.  Well, not really, I guess it’s just something I’ve known all along.  But I’ll talk about that later.

Saturday night John had a semi-dry party which means people only were supposed to drink beer and wine and the evening was not supposed to end up in any kind of Romanesque drunken debauchery.  It didn’t, and since I was drinking O’Doul’s, it wasn’t too difficult to stay clean.  Even after my relapse.  This is because hard liquor tempts me the most.  Well, I’m kind of lying.  It was difficult, but not impossible, because I did it.

My friends all liked Cola, and when she finally was able to put names to faces after reading my journals she said she assumed all my friends were white.  I guess I never described anyone physically much.  Most of them are white, though I prefer to describe them by their nationalities.  But those who stand out as non-white are:  Jay who is black, his family originally comes from Belize.  Ayla is half Puerto Rican, half Irish, which is a bizarre mix that you can probably only find around Boston.  And Danika’s parents were actually born in Haiti, but Danika was born in Boston.  Emma, which I’ve state before is 1/4 black from Zimbabwe, 1/4 Italian, and 1/2 Columbian.  Otherwise the nationalities are Irish, English, Italian, French, and a variety of European concoctions, not simply white.  On forms when I have to put my ethnicity, I don’t usually put white.  I check other.  And if they give me a space to write it in, I write “Siciliani Romani” or just “Sicilian” depending on my mood.  Cola often blatantly comes out with these kinds of observations.  I like that that about her.  C-O-L-A Cola.

Anyway, I was outside smoking a cigarette around some other people.  Yeah I’m smoking again, but not as much.  The relapse did it.  And it’s harder to stay clean when you don’t smoke, but I’ll get there.  But I was smoking and a girl approached me and she said, “hey Grimm!”

I said, “hey” without knowing who she was.

She started gabbing on and on and then stopped to say, “you don’t even know who I am, do you?”

I said, sorry, no, I don’t remember you.  Then she slapped me wicked hard, called me an asshole, and stormed off.  Ayla said she thinks she remembers that I hooked up with her one night.  Back in the days of drunken yore probably because, damn, she was hot, how could I have forgotten getting some of that?  Ayla said she loves to see me get slapped, it’s kind of a turn on for her.  “uhh thanks?”  Then she discretely offered me a blow job, so we went off into John’s room, but I decided I didn’t want one, I wanted sex.  I wanted my naked body up against the naked body of a woman.  I get laid so much less now that I don’t go out to clubs and I’m not drinking and drugging so I guess I’m shyer or less likely to approach a girl.  And I’m in general less often in social situations like this.

When we left the bedroom, it was obvious what we did, at least to Iona who had a hurt look on her face.  I felt bad even though we don’t have a relationship so I went over to her.  She came outside with me so I could smoke.  We went to the front where no one was hanging out.  At first we were quiet, then she started talking.  She said that she didn’t want to be mean, but she was just thinking about how much I love Emma, and she brought up my plan to perform at the bookstore and sing a song I wrote for her.  Apparently I confided this to Iona when I stayed with her while I was relapsing, but she won’t tell anyone.  She said she didn’t want to be mean and she didn’t want to hurt me but she was thinking that Emma couldn’t possibly love me like I love her or in any way that I’d want her to.  If she did, then I wouldn’t have to pursue her so much.  Iona said that my feelings for Emma are obvious, even to Emma, and that any woman who loves a guy would not play so hard to get.

I tried to rationalize by saying that Emma is different, she’s level headed and she has goals, and she won’t let anything stand in the way of her goals.  But I didn’t believe what I was saying.  Iona told me that maybe it’s good I’m doing the performance since it will enable me to move on after, and I should prepare myself for that.  If Iona wasn’t such a nice person I’d think she was being a bitch.  But I had to focus on her intentions.  Essentially she doesn’t want to see me hurt.  She loves me like I love Emma.  I tried to kiss her then, because it felt like a moment to do that, but she turned away and reminded me I had just been with Ayla, that’s rude and disgusting.  I said sorry and decided then that I wanted to go home before I’d start drinking.  I didn’t mean to offend or hurt Iona.  So I told her to tell Cola that I was going and I walked away.

Ten minutes later, Iona pulls up beside me in her car with Cola in the passenger seat.  I got in since I was contemplating going to the liquor store.  We went to Denny’s to eat and stayed for a couple hours.  I didn’t say much but they talked, and I was just glad to be there and not out getting drunk or anything.  I don’t know, I’m beginning to hate love, it just seems to cause pain in every way that it exists.

Theme song: “These Eyes” by The Guess Who, because when you’re hurt because of love, whether it’s unreciprocated, used, ended, denied, abused, or lost even in cases of death, it’s a betrayal in any number of interpretations.


previous Grimm 183: Grimm the Abstract Gypsy Caballero Personal Protagonist

next Grimm 185: Iona, the Theme of Random, & Psychotic Mental Vomit

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 183: Grimm the Abstract Gypsy Caballero Personal Protagonist

May 3, 2014


Emma graduates on May 15th and she is planning to leave for Spain on June 1st.  I just got an invitation to a graduation/going away party for her, which was sent to my parents’ house because Emma’s parents don’t know my address at Howard’s.  The party is on Saturday the 24th.  That only leaves me with the weekend before or the weekend after, which is the weekend she’s leaving, to plan some way to get her to Charlotte’s Web to see The Convoy, so I can perform the song I wrote for her, and….

….she will instantly fall in love with me and alter all her life plans to be with me.  wtf.  Is that what I’m really expecting?  Seriously?  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I’m so fucking stupid.  But Sharly is encouraging.  She gave us May 17th to perform and she said that Emma would probably enjoy coming because she’s never seen me play in the band before, no one has really.  I’ve hid it from mostly everyone.  I’m not even sure if Pete knows, I don’t remember, but I think I hid it from him and Sweetheart.  They only know I play the harp.  Sharly knows, and Cola knows everything since she read my journals, except for the one I’m currently writing in that she keeps asking to read.  She tells me it’s like a suspense novel she isn’t allowed to finish.  I just say it’s good my life is suspenseful to her, because it’s kind of suspenseful to me too.

Anyway, so we got the 17th, but first I need to confirm Emma is available that day.  There may be other parties she’s going to for either graduate or undergraduate commencement, which is that morning.  Anyway, I’ve got some planning to do, and I’m feeling kind of anxious about it.  Anxious in a bad way, kinda debilitating, because it seems too much for nothing.  I believe now ultimately that I will be doing all this for nothing, and I will gain nothing but humiliation after I am essentially rejected blatantly, openly, publicly, and all my devastation will be obvious and exposed to everyone I know.  What the fuck was I thinking.  I just thought that she was leaving in the Summer.  I was under the impression that it would be the end of Summer, but the soonest would be early July.  I can’t back out now.

And onto other things…

Cola has been coming to work with me and Sharly doesn’t mind because Cola will give Sharly some artistic suggestions about displays, décor, and the arrangement of various sections.  She also helps Sharly with paperwork and offers herself to do anything Sharly needs.  All without pay.  Sharly has offered to officially hire her or give her a stipend, but Cola said no.  Cola said, “Wall Grimm supports me.”  This made Sharly curious, but it also impressed her.

Cola doesn’t help me with my own work because I need to be completely capable of performing my job, going above and beyond myself, whenever possible.  There was a lapse in everything I was striving towards there after Valentina died, but I’m working with Sharly once again to become manager.  I had just wanted it to be after this first semester back at school, to see if I could handle long hours and school work.  Now I know I can.  I wasn’t sure at first since I went directly from the psych ward to the college campus.  I didn’t expect as smooth of a transition as it turned out to be.  It helps that I haven’t hung out much with friends, I’ve isolated myself in many ways.  But in positive ways.  Being around friends only makes me want to drink and drug.

Speaking of drinking, Cola asked me what triggered my recent relapse.  She was like, “was it because of Uncle Dan?”  Now, keep in mind, Invisible Journal Reading People, that she hasn’t read this current journal so she has no idea I punched him in the face or anything I said about that.

I was like, “why the fuck would it be because of him, why the fuck are you asking me that?”

She reminded me, yet again, that I shouldn’t talk to a lady that way, but then went on to say that my double use of the F word and my tone of voice exhibited defensiveness, proving her conclusion to be true.  She said she knew I was going to a family gathering, then I relapsed.

I said, “How do you know it wasn’t about Valentina?  My first family holiday since I skipped Christmas.”

“That could have contributed to it, Wall Grimm, but you were prepared for that.  When you’re prepared you prevail.  When you’re caught off guard, you go haywire.”

“Yeah, you got me all figured out.  Like I’m so weak I can’t deal with adversity.  Fuck off.  Look, I don’t give a shit about how you feel about my language because you’re fucking pissing me off.  Stop fucking prying.”

“I’m going to pry.  I’m invested in you now.  You’re my living character.  My personal protagonist.  My gypsy caballero.”

“You make me sound cooler than I am.”

“You are cooler than you are.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Neither do I.  Learn to live with it.”

Then we moved off the subject.  But she’s manipulative like that.  Not manipulative in a devious way, just triggered by her curious investigation.  She asks me questions and she gets the answers without my giving them to her.  She figures out the truth based on my reactions.  I’m able to do that myself with other people because of my intuition, psychological perspective, my psychicisms.  But I’m beginning to think I’m too much of an open book.  I thought I was quiet and aloof.  But my passionate responses give me away.  It used to be disguised by my being drunk or drugged.  Now it can’t be blamed on anything but genuine reaction.  However, as obvious as I am, I’m not sure how many people perceive it.  I think it’s just Cola.  Maybe Sharly, Pete, and my parents.  I think those are the only people because everyone else I tend to avoid when I’ve got shit going on or I’m not up to concealing what’s going on internally.  And there are reasons these people would know.  My parents just know me, no explanation necessary.  I’ve had to answer to Pete as his roommate, and to Sharly as her employee.  That involved either ditching them and neglecting my responsibilities in order to avoid them when I wasn’t up to being around people, essentially exposing weaker parts of myself, or their actually witnessing me at my worst moments at times when I couldn’t avoid them.  And Cola read my journals.  But she’s C-O-L-A Cola, and pretty insightful.  I think living with me in such close quarters would have eventually revealed parts of me I’d prefer to hide.  But there’s no way she would ever have known as much or have the basis to explore.

Speaking of close quarters, it’s a shame Howard is going to move out of his house, but it’s good that I will need to find a new place, because I’m beginning to need some space.  I was thriving on time alone, which I have very little of now.  In that way, it’s a positive that Cola read my journals because I don’t have to explain anything to her.  As I’ve said before, she’s kind of like my living journal, and apparently for her, I’m a living character.  It’s a very abstract, surreal way to view our friendship.  But then again, our friendship is, in itself, abstract and surreal.  I told Cola this and her response was, “That’s brilliant.  I want to be surreal, you can be abstract.”  And despite what she says, she does make sense.

My theme song is kind of irrelevant to this journal entry so it’s more of a themeless song.  It’s “Turtle Blues” by Janis Joplin, because I’m in the need for some decent blues, but at the same time Janis reminds me of my character Mama.


previous Grimm 181: The Tale of Jean Nicolas Valiquette

next Grimm 184: Future Potential Domesticisms & Hating Love

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 182: The Tale of Jean Nicolas Valiquette

April 30, 2014


Thursday Cola took me to a luxury hotel.  I didn’t even know where it was because I was hungover and sick, so I slept most of the time during the ride.  She had rented a car and brought Gary Oldman (II)’s cat carrier, and I even slept through Gary meowing as we drove.  I think she was feeling a little confused and confined.  Gary Oldman (II), not Cola.  Cola doesn’t ever seem like she gets confused.  We spent most of Thursday in the room because I felt like crap, and Cola ordered up soup, crackers, toast, tea, coke, and gingerale throughout the day until I was finally feeling better.  The shower in the hotel was incredible and the showerhead had various settings.  So I felt good enough to let the massaging setting run on my balls while I sat in the shower and jerked off.  That was a nice release.  I can’t remember the last time I got laid, but apparently I had sex with Iona this week, I just don’t remember, so it doesn’t really count.

Before Cola went to Iona’s, she had gotten some of my clothes from Howard’s which is when she also got the cat carrier.  She got my bathing suit too which is the shorts kind of speedo that Hasty made me get when we went to Boston.  We went down to the indoor, heated, possibly Olympic size pool on Friday when I was no longer hungover and my cold was nearly gone.  Cola wore a two piece bathing suit.  It had a kind of silicone sewn in the breast and ass areas, which gave her the appearance of having more of a figure.  I was actually surprised by her waistline, since she is anatomically a guy, it was strange that it was so thin.  But she told me that way back when she used to wear a corsette, she made it especially tight in order to make her waist permanently smaller, and it seems to have worked.  She will wear a corsette now and then when she’s really dressed up.  It seems to me that she’s always dressed up.   She said I haven’t seen anything yet.

The bathing suit had one of those skirt type bottoms which concealed the bulge from her male anatomy.  She had all waterproof makeup, and a bathing cap with wig hair sewn in so that it would stick out a little.  We swam around and went in the sauna and Jacuzzi.  At one point we were hanging out on the lawn chairs by the pool and she says, “Now that is hot, Wall Grimm, look at that.”  I look and she’s pointing to some European looking guy.  I’m like, “don’t point out guys to me, don’t say ‘that’s hot’ and make me look up at a guy.”  She told me I should be bisexual because I’m so open.  I was like, “nope” no interest in any of that.  Then she started going on about how I’ve kissed Pete a couple times and let a guy grope me when I was on ecstasy.  I told her that she read the context in my journal and so she should know it has nothing to do with any kind of bisexuality.  She asked if I ever had any sexual experience with a guy that I didn’t document in my journal.  I said no.  She said that I did.

I was like, “What makes you say that?”

“I know there’s something, Wall Grimm.  But it wasn’t pleasant.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.  But I won’t say it, because then you’ll tell me to fuck off and you know I don’t like that.”

“Well too bad, because I’m telling you to fuck off right now.  Just because you read most of my journals, doesn’t mean it’s any of your business.”

“You’re endearing.”

She then went off and came back with two virgin piña coladas.  I asked her where she got all the money for the hotel.  She said she was a prostitute.  I was like, “Really, Cola?  No, don’t do that.  You don’t have to do that anymore.”

She told me I was a sweet asshole.  Sweet that I let her stay with me at Howard’s and went with her to get her stuff from her apartment with her jerk ex-boyfriend, and sweet that I implied I’d help her out so she wouldn’t have to prostitute herself.  She said I was an asshole for believing that she’d ever prostitute herself.

Apparently Cola is wealthy.  This is something she doesn’t want me to tell anyone else.  She comes from a wealthy family in the Berkshires.  Cola went to Princeton and Yale and achieved her Master’s by age 22.  I asked what she studied, she said “college boys”.  So I don’t know what her degrees are in since I didn’t pursue it after that.  After she returned home, she started a gallery.  Cola is a painter and sculptor.  She has her own gallery in the Berkshires and her art sells at extremely high prices.  Her artwork has been exhibited in museums all over the world, even including The Louvre.  She started the gallery and was able to travel for exhibits and promotion because of her parents’ wealth, but has established herself as renown enough to have her own wealth, independent from her parents.  Her name is Jean Nicolas Valiquette, and goes by Nicolas at home and with family, and by Jean Nicolas in the art community.

Two years ago, she left that world because even though she was able to paint and sculpt, which is her passion, she felt it was all a façade.  The prestige and elitism, and the circles she was enmeshed in, became meaningless.  She’s grateful for her success, but says you can’t really put a price on art.  Her gallery is managed by her parents now and she has not created new pieces in the last two years, which has raised the value of everything she’s already created.  That wasn’t her intention, she just wanted to live a real life.  And she no longer wanted to pretend she was something she’s not.  She moved around here to be true to herself, be the woman she always felt she was, no longer having to hide this part of her.  She used to only wear women’s lingerie beneath her male clothing, but she moved here and has become a woman through and through.  She has no interest in a sex change because she said that God is the greatest artist of them all who never makes artistic mistakes, so she considers her body to be like a Michelangelo in that respect.  She only embellishes, but doesn’t change.  She has become her own art, as she paints and sculpts herself.  It’s what’s inside that matters, in all people.  You can’t put a price on people like you can’t put a price on art.

She allows herself a minimal stipend of her wealth per month, and lives only off that amount, which she didn’t reveal, but it’s apparently a scraping by amount even for one person.  This of course was after she bought all the women’s clothing and accessories.  She says she prefers to live around real people because rich people don’t really understand life or what life is truly all about.  And she says that she’s a better man now as a woman than she ever was as a man.

Cola is 32 years old.  She says she splurged on me because she likes me and she’s never felt connected like this to anyone before.  She’s says I’m her first, true best friend and she felt connected even before she read my journals.  She appreciates the honesty and rawness of my existence.  And after she said all that, and more, I decided that she has to be one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met.  She doesn’t like anyone in her new world to know her wealth because she says that people use you when you have money and/or prestige, and relationships are never genuine.  But she knows I’m not like that and she trusts me more than she’s ever trusted anyone else.


And now we’ve been back in town since Monday morning when I went directly to Blues Monday.  We’ve returned to Howard’s, and I’m back at school and work.  I did miss a visit with Bogart on Saturday though, and he actually called me whining about it.  Otherwise, this is definitely on my list of top 5 retreats/escapes from life.  It was healthy, after I sobered up, and actually rejuvenating, whereas most other times I return feeling depressed, useless, or guilty for one reason or another.  And I have Cola to thank for that.  C-O-L-A Cola.

My theme song today is “Changes” by David Bowie, because the lyrics remind me of Cola now that I know her story.



previous Grimm 181: The Trannie, the Drunk, & the Cat with an Attitude

next Grimm 183: Grimm the Abstract Gypsy Caballero Personal Protagonist

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.


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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 181: The Trannie, the Drunk, & the Cat with an Attitude

April 24, 2014


Iona let me crash at her place for a few days, and she even let me drink.  She didn’t want to me to drink of course, but I convinced her that I’m just taking a break from life, I’ll stop again, I just need this break, and I also convinced her to get me to the store to buy me more Jameson’s and chianti.  I’m a lightweight these days.  And I got cigarettes too.  I’ll quit smoking again as well.

I’m relapsing yeah, but I’m doing it responsibly.  I’m not just disappearing like I tend to do.  I told Howard I was staying at a friend’s for a few days or so.  I contacted all my professors and told them I’m really sick.  That’s not a big deal because I’ve barely missed any classes so I kind of reach my maximum absences after this week.  I can’t miss any more after this, but that won’t be difficult because the semester ends in a few weeks.  Besides, I’m not lying, I am sick.  I caught something.  So Iona also brought me to get cold medicine.  I say she brought me because I’ve been too drunk to venture on my own.  But I went with her because I don’t want to be this big loser, drunken invalid.

Anyway, I also contacted Sharly and told her I won’t be able to work.  She has begun to have her girlfriend cover for me whenever another employee can’t cover me.  She doesn’t want to hire someone else, because then I’ll lose hours.  I’ve been really responsible, so this isn’t that big of a deal.  I can’t remember what her girlfriend does for work but she sets her own hours and can do some work online, so it’s not an inconvenience for her to step in spontaneously.  She can also get some work done while she’s at the store.

I called my mom and said I was sorry that I was avoiding her but I just didn’t want to have to explain what happened.  She tried to press me on what provoked me to punch Uncle fucking potato ass face Dan, but I told her I didn’t want to get into it.  Uncle Dan told her he has no idea.  But he knows.  He’s an idiot if he doesn’t.  Well, he’s an idiot either way.

On Wednesday, Cola called me because she returned from visiting her family and I wasn’t at Howard’s.  She said, “You’re not at Paula’s, are you?”


“I didn’t think so.  You must be at Iona’s.”

“How do you even know that.”

“I know how you think, Wall Grimm.  I read your journals.”

It’s a positive that she’s read them because then she knows shit without my having to explain things, or myself.  The negative is that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get away with anything around her.  She could tell I was drinking and called me a little bitch who needed a slap, then demanded me to tell her where Iona lives so she could come rescue me.

“I don’t need rescuing.”

“Yeah you do.  Iona will take care of you, I know that, but she loves you so she’ll do whatever you want, including let you drink.”

Before she left for Iona’s, she confirmed that I had Gary Oldman (II), which I do because she came with me to my parents’ house on Easter.  I passed her off to my cousin for a second when I punched Uncle Dan in the face.  Then I took her back and left.  She’s pissed at me though because of my relapse.  I think she blames herself because she thinks she’s not doing her job as an Emotional Support Service Animal.  I have to keep reassuring her she does a good job, but she keeps giving me dirty looks.  Then I say if she’s mad at me it will just make me sad and I’ll drink more.  So then she stalks and attacks me and tries to get me to play.  She’s good at what she does.  I don’t pay her enough.

So yesterday, Cola arrived at Iona’s and I was really drunk.  I don’t remember a lot of details about these past few days.  One thing I remember is offering myself sexually to Cola if she would get me more booze.  Oops.  But first I was like, “are you a pitcher or a catcher?”  She said she was vers, which means versatile, which means both.  So I told her she’d have to be the catcher in my case.  She said she didn’t want to “catch” anything from me, at least not while I was a drunken slut.  “Offer again when you’re sober and I’m all yours, cowboy.”  She called me cowboy because she knows that’s what Iona calls me.

I also remember that at one point I had been talking about my book Amon-Re and I jumped on Iona’s kitchen table shouting, “I am the Creator and Lord of Eternal Light!”

Cola said, “Are you the Lizard King too?”

“I am the Lizard King!  I can do anything!”

Then the table fell out from beneath me.  Or maybe I just fell off the table.  And I don’t remember anything after that.

I’m waking up at Motel 6.  Cola’s up and she told me she had to throw me over her shoulder and take me out to her car.  By the time we got to The Sheraton, I was awake but could barely walk, so they claimed there was no vacancy.  Cola says they just didn’t like the looks of us.  She’s a trannie, I’m a drunk, and Gary Oldman (II) was giving them attitude.  She said we’re going to a better hotel tonight so that I can have my away time and break, without having to face Howard, and in a safe place where Cola can babysit me and slap sense into me.  I guess I’m ok with that, I like staying in hotels.  I asked Cola if she wanted me to pay for the next one, she said not to worry about it, she’s got the money.  Then I asked her how she makes money, she said “those are details for another time, Wall Grimm.”

At this moment as I’m writing in my journal, she’s trying to read over my shoulder but I can tell she can’t decipher my handwriting.  So I’m going to write the following sentence large and clear for her to be able to read:


She’s laughing now and calling me a slut, and now she went in the bathroom to do her morning ritual of looking like a woman again.  I feel like shit, sick, hungover, wanting more booze, and feeling emotionally like shit too, disappointed in myself and discouraged.  But I suspect that Cola is going to get me through this just fine.  She’s a great person.

And she just called out from the bathroom, “Wall Grimm, do you want to fuck the dead shit out of me too?  Because I’m a little backed up, I need an enema.”

She’s funny.  C-O-L-A Cola.

My theme song for this entry is “Laid” by James, because Cola’s singing that right now while she’s in the bathroom.



previous Grimm 180: Secrets, Acceptance, & Rage

next Grimm 182: The Tale of Jean Nicolas Valiquette

I’m including two versions of “Laid”.  The first one I have to include because he sings “cum”, while in the second version it’s changed to “sing”.  But I’m including the second video as well, because it’s more interesting.

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 180: Secrets, Acceptance, & Rage

April 21, 2014


Cola went away for the weekend to visit her family in The Berkshires.  She had to go as a man because they have no idea she’s transgendered.  That wicked sucks, I think, that people have to hide like that from their own family because they know they won’t be accepted if they’re open.  I feel very fortunate to have my parents.  I’m grateful for them every day.  I know that I could tell them anything and they would support me.  Unless I was a serial killer or something, then I think they’d want me in prison.  Or at least I’d hope they would.  Anyway, so Cola was gone for the weekend.  I visited Bogart on Saturday and brought him a chocolate bunny even though sugar makes him hyper.  He never gets chocolate and he loves it.  I got him one of the Lindt bunnies, they’re so freakin’ good.  I almost ate it on the way there.

On Sunday I went to my parents’ house.  After they got back from church they had our traditional Easter brunch.  Most of the family was there, family I don’t see much these days, not since I was living with my parents.  Pete was going to come with me but his parents actually invited him home for the holiday and took Sweetheart with him.  That’s cool because he also had to hide from them the fact that he was gay and when he came out to them, they kicked him out, right before Christmas, a couple years ago or whenever it was.  That’s how we started being roommates at the time because I told him he could stay with me.  He’s been kind of estranged from them ever since, and now they took the initiative to be involved in his life, so that’s good.  Personally I don’t know if I’d want them back in my life if they took that long to accept me, or sort of accept me.  But I can’t say for sure because I’m not in that situation.  It must really hurt to go through that.  Pete’s pretty tough emotionally.  He’s sensitive but strong.

So the day started well, my favorite is the homefries.  My mother makes the best homefries.  We had homefries, ham with pineapple sauce (I don’t eat ham), baked beans, eggs (I don’t eat eggs), toast, Bavarian waffles, and apple pie for dessert.  Plus tons of chocolate.  My parents don’t do Easter egg hunts for me and my sister anymore, but they did for a long time.  I think the last year they did it was after I turned 21 and they put nips in the eggs.  Then they decided I drank too much and that was the end of that.  But my sister and I hid the eggs outside for our little cousins and it was fun to watch them run around looking for them.

After the egg hunt and brunch, we were all just sitting out on the patio and talking while the younger kids were playing in the yard.  It was kind of rough being around all the champagne.  Champagne has always been a big part of our Easters.  Either straight or as mimosas.  So I was beginning to have a rough time with that, especially since I haven’t been smoking, it was hard to confront two addictions at once.  I didn’t talk much because my mind was distracted with these things.  And then, of all fucking people, Uncle Dan showed up.  He was being all charming and people were glad to see him because he’s not around much, he travels for work and lives in New York.  I think I was the only one who was not glad to see him.

I got even quieter as he made the rounds hugging and kissing everyone, and they all had big smiles on their faces.  He made his way to me and was like, “Hey, Grimm.”  I hate that he calls me Grimm, my family all mostly calls me Valente, sometimes Grimm.  But he calls me Grimm and it feels personal, like, that’s my fucking name you have no right to call me that or speak of it, what makes you think you’re that close to me that you can call me by that name, fuck you.  I’m not sure how rational that is.

I didn’t respond, I just got up and went in the bathroom.  For about a half an hour, he kept turning up wherever I’d go, whatever room I’d be in.  I’d find a place with some relatives and sit with them and he’d come in the room so I’d leave and find a new place.  I don’t know why I even stayed that long.  I was just pissed that he not only showed up, but also that he was following me, trying to talk to me.  I had nothing to say to him.  I just wanted to be there with my family since I hadn’t been around for Christmas and I was ready to be a part of holiday celebrations after Valentina.  He was disrupting my process and my route back to normalcy and stability.

Finally I went out to the fire.  We had a fire pit going and some of the kids were making s’mores.  Fire brings me peace or rejuvenates and cleanses me.  I release all my negative energy into the fire, then bring in the fire power, letting it surge through me, and it makes me feel good.  It’s like fire is a healthy drug for me, gives me that rush, yet leaves me with clarity and fortitude.  I caved and bummed a smoke off one of my older cousins.  So I was just standing there by the fire, feeling like I had this fervent shield around me that nothing could penetrate.  No one by the fire spoke to me as if they sensed it, as it almost gave off this “leave me the fuck alone” kind of vibe.

Then fucking Uncle Dan comes by and stands right next to me and says, “Hey, Grimm”.  The fire power surged and became an unbearable rage inside of me.  It was so intense I had to let it out.  And he was the cause of it.  He said “Hey, Grimm” and the surge happened immediately, and it was almost seconds after he said it that I turned and punched him square on in the face with such force that he was knocked off his feet.  There was a moment of people just looking on in shock, and then I walked away.  And then I left.

My parents and sister have called but I haven’t answered when their names show on my cell.  I have no clue how to explain that to them.  I didn’t even go back to Howard’s because then they’d know where to find me.  Instead I went to Iona’s.  First I walked around for a while, bought some cigarettes, struggled against going to the liquor store, until I just thought fuck it, just this once.  I bought a bottle of Jameson’s.  I couldn’t think of anywhere to go, so I went in the woods at the park and drank.  It didn’t take much to hit me.  Eventually, I staggered to Iona’s and waited for her to return home after whatever holiday activities she was involved in.  I sat outside her apartment building, drinking the Jameson’s from an emptied out soda can, like I write Amon-Re as doing.

I spent the night with her, and I’m at her place right now.  I called and told Howard I wasn’t going to Blues Monday today.  I’m hung over and kind of miserable, and I think I’m getting sick.  My throat hurts and ears hurt and my whole fucking face hurts.  And…I have nothing else to say right now.

My theme song is “Jerk Off” by Tool, dedicated to Uncle Dan, and it pisses me off that he stirs this kind of violence in me.



previous Grimm 179: Wall Grimm’s Philosophy of Dwelling & Penguini a la Cola

next Grimm 181: The Trannie, the Drunk, & the Cat with an Attitude

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 179: Wall Grimm’s Philosophy of Dwelling & Penguini a la Cola

April 17, 2014


I was talking with Howard and he said that he and Daisy have been discussing moving.  He said he hates to face up to the fact that they’re getting older and it would be best for them if they weren’t so rural and didn’t have a house to maintain.  So they’ve begun to consider living in a 55+ housing type situation.  I felt really bad at first because I thought maybe I wasn’t helping around the house enough, so I offered to do more, and I also offered money.  I’ve got a good stash going now since I’m working a lot and I really don’t have much to spend my money on.  I buy food for me and Gary Oldman (II) and get Dunkin Donuts coffee sometimes.  Cigarettes are my huge expense, so I’ve decided to quit.  I tried but it makes me kind of an irritable asshole and I don’t like feeling that way so yesterday I got myself some nicotine gum.  I’m chewing a piece right now and it’s actually staving off my nicotine craving.  Anyway, I’ve gone off subject.

Howard assured me that more help and more money wouldn’t change anything.  It’s something they’ve been thinking about for a long time, and they’re honestly looking forward to a change and simplifying their lives.  He said they’ve begun to look into places to move and they’re going to put their house on the market.  I’m almost tempted to buy it, maybe with Pete or something, but I kind of don’t want to lock myself down to that kind of a commitment.  Not at 24.  And not as a gypsy.  Can’t just up and leave anytime I want when I have a property to be responsible for.

Yet even though he assured me I couldn’t have done more, I still feel like I could have.  But I won’t dwell on it.  I hate dwelling.  I have a philosophy about that.  My name is Wall Grimm and I have a philosophy about the pointlessness of dwelling.


I don’t want to dwell on the new developments involving Howard’s…dwelling, aka house/living arrangements.  Dwelling just turns trivial matters into bigger problems, and extends the life of bullshit.  When you dwell, you’re holding yourself back from accepting things as they are and resolving them within yourself.  It’s best to come to terms with circumstance, learn from it, and if there’s any way to act on it, then do what you got to do.  If you can’t change it, move on.  If you can make a difference, then just do it.  Dwelling is a stagnancy in physical investment and the cognitive process of realization.  Dwelling prevents growth of character.  You can’t grow as a person if you’re stuck in one stage of development.  So dwelling on what I did or didn’t do with regards to Howard’s situation, is pointless.  Howard and Daisy are making a practical decision that has nothing to do with me.  I didn’t age them, that’s just life and time.  I also did help them a lot, so I can be proud of that.  Dwelling often diminishes the worth of accomplishments as you focus on the illusion of incompetencies.

And yeah, I have incompetencies, but I don’t dwell on them, or I try not to.  I just build competence out of my awareness of them.  Or I try to.

Ok, enough about that.

Last night after work C-O-L-A Cola and I went to Pete’s.  Hasty met us there and she fell in love with Cola.  In an adoring kind of way, not a marrying kind of way.  Sweetheart and Pete liked Cola too and Cola was excited to meet them since she read about them in my journals, she said it was like meeting characters from a book.

Cola wanted to make a late dinner and had spent the day cutting out penguin shapes from lasagna noodles with little penguin cookie cutters.  She called it Penguini Pasta.  She said it took a long time though so she cooked it with regular spaghetti once we were at Pete’s.  She also made a version of Alfredo sauce that only had milk because she forgot about the heavy cream.  And since we weren’t having fettuccine, she just called the meal Spaghetti Freddy with Penguini a la Cola.

Then we had a conversation about “what is sexy” essentially.  Can you acknowledge that a person is sexy without wanting to have sex with that person?  There seems to be a congruency with thinking someone’s sexy and wanting sex with them.  Hasty said she felt that women had a better capability than men to recognize sexiness and sexuality in people, regardless of gender, and it doesn’t lead to feelings of sexual arousal or the need to be sexually intimate with that person.  Men think a woman is sexy and want sex with her.  I disagreed, mostly in terms with myself.  I can acknowledge the sexual qualities in people without needing that gratification.  Hasty wanted proof through example, so after a thought, I said Cola.  Cola’s a sexy person, but I definitely don’t want to have sex with her.  But that just made Cola’s night and every now and then she’d say “Wall Grimm thinks I’m sexy” even if it was irrelevant.  She mostly calls me Wall Grimm, not just Grimm, she says my whole name.  No one else does that.

Anyway, by the end of the conversation, we came to a consensus that men do have the ability, and we’re talking about heterosexual men here.  But it’s different than women.  Heterosexual women can think a guy is sexy and not want sex with him.  However, a heterosexual guy is going to want sex with any woman he finds sexy.  The same guy can recognize sexiness in other men, but it varies.  Some guys won’t allow themselves to consciously acknowledge it.  Some guys will, but won’t openly admit it.  Other guys, like me, are comfortable with their own sexuality enough, to not feel threatened by that.  Although, I can’t think of any examples of guys I recognize as sexy, not at the moment, not even any celebrities.

From this conversation emerged a plan to have an opposite day.  As I said before, Cola likes the opposite of everything.  The opposite day will definitely test my level of comfort in my own sexuality and manhood.  They want to all go out and dress as our opposite gender.  So Pete and I would dress as women, Hasty, Sweetheart, and Cola would dress as men.  Cola is anatomically a man, but identifies herself as a woman, so her opposite would truly be dressing as a man.

I’m not sure how much like a woman I’d look like, and….damn I don’t know, but I guess I’ll just have to um…man up, and dress like a woman.

We ended the evening by playing music and dancing.  The best song we danced to, because it’s a cool song to dance to, will be my theme song.  It’s “Lose Yourself to Dance” by Daft Punk.


previous Grimm 178: Wall Grimm’s Entourage

next Grimm 180: Secrets, Acceptance, & Rage

Hasty is based on herself from

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 178: Wall Grimm’s Entourage

April 14, 2014


On Thursday morning it was a challenge to wake Cola, but once I did, she began a morning ritual that I had no time for.  She went to bed looking like a man, no wig, no makeup, and I loaned her something to sleep in.  She woke up looking like a man and it’s a process for her to transform.  I understand that, but I didn’t have time, so I had to leave.  I told her I’d tell Howard she was there and when she was ready she could go up and get coffee or something, and that she could stay there if she wanted.  I’d come home between school and work to get her or if she needed to go somewhere, I left her money for a taxi.  But when I got home, she was still there.  I went and talked to Howard and he said, “Something about you Grimm, you don’t just attract all kinds of people, you befriend them.”  That’s a compliment coming from Howard.  And Daisy seemed to adore Cola, said she was a lovely girl, and so tall.  I don’t think she realized.  And Howard wasn’t about to explain it to her.  He just nodded and said, “yes she is.”  Then he had that rare Howard look in his eye.  It was amusement, but not in mockery.  It’s a rare look, except he makes it often in reference to me.  Rare with regards to other people.

Anyway, Cola asked if I could go with her to collect her things from her apartment and get her to a hotel.  I didn’t have much time before I had to get to work, so I just told her to spend another night if she wanted.  I had a shorter school day on Friday and could do it with her then.  I work six days per week now.  Every day but Monday.  Monday I don’t have school either.  It’s reserved strictly for the blues.  Blues Monday.  She was ok with that.  So the same routine happened Friday, and when I got home from school, Cola was on my bed reading all my old journals.  They were in a locked box, in a hole in the wall that I created, behind an “Easy Rider” poster.  I’m not much of a poster guy, but it was my idea on how to hide my journals, and I got the poster at a flea market so it felt right.

She had to really dig around everywhere like the freakin’ FBI to find that box.  Then she had to break into the box.  My current journal is always with me, as is Gary Oldman (II), who seems to like Cola a lot.  I was aghast when I walked in and saw her there reading my journals.  I was just waiting for the right opportunity to use the word aghast and this works.  Horrified.  Aghast.  Rigormortified.

I was speechless, and when she began to explain herself, for some reason I didn’t care anymore.  She said something along the lines of, “You have nothing, Wall Grimm.  You hardly have any possessions.  I have so many things.  And I was soooo bored.  I wanted to snoop.  I looked everywhere.  I’m wearing a pair of your bikini briefs.  It’s the only time I like to wear men’s underwear, when it belongs to a man.”  I told her she could keep them.

She said she searched under, behind, above, below everything.  The only thing of interest was the locked box and since it was locked, her curiosity was too much for her.  Especially since she found the key first during her search.  She said if it was money or valuables, she’d have put it back right away, she’s no thief.  But she couldn’t resist reading.  She said that now she loves me and thinks I’m fascinating and peculiar and she wants to meet Emma so she can tell me if Emma’s worth my pining for.  She wants to meet all my friends.  And she wants to know more about my Gypsy blood and my psychicisms.

During the whole weekend she asked me questions and commented on the stuff I wrote, talking about it like it was a novel she just read.  She wants to read my current journal and know what I’ve said about her.  For some reason it doesn’t bother me to have this one person know all my secrets.  Maybe it’s because she shares a lot with me about herself, and I like to hear her perspective on observations and thoughts I’ve had.  It’s like she’s my living journal now, she knows more than anyone else has ever known about how I think and feel about stuff.  She knows my internal response to the external struggles that people randomly and rarely witness personally.  It’s almost like I’ve confided in her, without saying a word.  I never confide in people.

After that, I kind of didn’t want to leave her off at a hotel.  Just set her off and free into the world with all that knowledge about me.  So I told her she could stay for a while.  She was happy about that and she told me that I was still a mystery.  I asked her why because she knows everything.  She said no, she senses I hold back, even in my journal, I don’t say it all.

She’s going to go shopping today while I’m at Blues Monday.  I don’t know what for, but she said she will join us next week maybe.  She didn’t come with me to visit Bogart on Saturday either.  That turned out to be a good thing, since Bogart was furious that I didn’t visit him last Saturday.  Ironically, he’s less violent with me when he’s mad at me than when he’s glad to see me.  He just whined and complained and shouted.  I told him I had been arrested after being abducted, but it took a while for him to get his emotions out before he could let that sink in.  Finally, he realized I had been detained by the Boston Police, and he laughed and thought that was hysterical, said he’d been there himself.  Then it was like he completely forgot he was upset with me to begin with.

Otherwise, Cola’s kind of my entourage now.  Cola and Gary Oldman (II).  And me in my Eastwood and Stepping Wolves.  Howard brought down a cot for me to sleep on, since I gave my bed up to Cola.  The basement apartment is basically like a studio.  It’s one huge room, with a small bathroom with a shower, no tub.  There’s a small fridge, sink, counter area and few cabinets.  There’s a microwave and a toaster.  Laundry machines are in the basement itself, not in my apartment.  So it’s spacious but, crowded with more than one person.  Fortunately I go to school and work a lot.  Though my times at home tend to be when I read or write or do homework or it’s where I work out when I’m not running.  Cola’s good though, she’s begun writing now too.  I guess I inspired her.  But she’s kind of distracting even when we write together.  She’ll start laughing and make me read the funny thing she wrote.  Or she’ll say, “oh this is so sad, I’m not sure I want you to read this….oh ok, I guess I’ll let you.”  As if I asked to or had a choice.

But I like having her around.  I think at this point in my life, she’s the closest thing to having someone thoroughly understand me.  And now I’m beginning to wonder if I actually want people to understand me.  Maybe I enjoy baffling people.  Yeah, I just decided I do.  But if there’s one person who isn’t baffled by me, it’s ok if that’s Cola.  Since she says she still thinks I’m peculiar and that I haven’t lost any intrigue.  And she’s wise enough to know that I didn’t write everything, there’s more to me than just what I’ve written in my journals.  She’s also the only person who’s ever said that she’s glad I’ve suffered, because she likes who I am as a result of it, it makes me a better person.  But right after she said that, she added, “And you’re such a naughty slut.  I like that about you.”  C-O-L-A Cola.

And my theme song for today is “Somewhere I belong” by Linkin Park because I think it’s kind of a rough synopsis to all my journal entries combined into one entity.


previous Grimm 177: Cola and the Caballero

next Grimm 179: Wall Grimm’s Philosophy of Dwelling & Penguini a la Cola

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.




Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 177: Cola and the Caballero

April 10, 2014

I worked all day yesterday and last night until close.  I went outside for a break to have a butt and I saw a transgendered standing across the street waiting for a bus.  Two guys walked by and scoffed, laughed, and once they were about ten feet away, they shouted, “Freak!”

That pissed me off.  I’m really opposed to discrimination of any kind.  Well, except for scumbags who hurt children or animals.  I openly discriminate against them and support the ostracization and scrutiny of them.  Anyway, I started to cross the street towards them, and yelled, “Hey!”  They stopped and turned.  I said, “what did you just fucking say?”

“Chill out, dude, we weren’t talking to you.”

I said, no shit, and called them assholes and said they’d better apologize to her or once I beat them to their knees they’ll have to apologize to the both of us.  They ran before I finished crossing the street.  I guess I made my point.

I turned back around to go stand outside the bookstore and lit another cigarette, since I tossed the other one, was almost done smoking it anyway.  Once I returned to my post, I saw the transgendered slowly making her way across the street towards me.  She was walking real slow like she wanted to ensure I saw her in order to give me time to tell her to go away.  That’s just the sense I got by her pace and stride and how she was looking at me the entire time.  I didn’t so she made it over by me and said, “a cowboy.”  I was wearing my Eastwood and Stepping Wolves.

“Sure am little lady.”

She laughed because she was probably about my height of 5’10” but in heels towered over me at about 6’2″.

She thanked me and asked why I did that.  I just said, “I hate that shit.  People fucking suck sometimes.”

“You should watch your language around a lady you know.”

I tipped my hat, “pardon me ma’am.”

“Is that your name?”  She pointed to my name tag.


“You’re strange and peculiar.”

“You’re not so ordinary yourself.”

“No I’m not.  My name’s Nicky, but my friends call me Nicole.  You can call me anytime, but be sure to address me as Nicole.”

Then a bus stopped across the street let two people off and drove away.

“You missed your bus.”

“Oops.  …You’re not gay, Wall Grimm, I can tell.”


“I’m not either.  I like men.”

“So you’re all woman then, huh?”

“Well, as much as I can be, but that’s beneath the surface.”

Then she told me that contrary to misconceptions, transgendereds aren’t all gay.  Some dress up as women, or just wear women’s lingerie, but still like women.  She said most prefer to be referred as “she” when dressed as a woman, “he” is ok when they’re in men’s clothes, but “it” is never cool, and “he” is forgiven when a person doesn’t know any better.

I told her I had to get back in to work so she decided to come in and browse.  She disappeared for a while and then came over to me to show me a book.  She asked what I was doing.  I told her I was cleaning the check out area.  She said, “that’s good you like to keep your area to check out clean.”

I fucking love innuendo, no matter where it comes from, and the diverse places in dialogue where it can be found.

The book she had was about reincarnation.  We talked about Edgar Cayce and how we agreed that reincarnation in his view was similar to Buddhist philosophy and even could be compared to purgatory as well as the veils of death in Ancient Egyptian beliefs.  There’s a lot of congruency with all religions.  Basically living again and again and evolving as a spirit until you reach a heightened existence when the soul can finally pass on.  Then she told me that she believed transgendereds were the heightened existence, because there’s a lot of shit you have to deal with and confront and learn from and overcome.  You have to be confident and brave and accepting of yourself enough to pull it off with dignity.  I thought that was awesome.

We talked a lot and at one point we were skimming through a dictionary looking up funny words.  These were our favorites:

Pilgarlic – a bald person, a person with a bald head that resembles a peeled garlic clove

Corybungus – a person’s bottom, or the rear of anything that’s alive.

Bunghole, I get it now.

Our favorite was frotteur – a person who engages in the sexual act of frottage.

We liked that definition after we looked up the word frottage: The act of rubbing up against the body of another person, as in a crowd, in order to gain sexual gratification.  We admitted we’ve both done that at times, usually on the subway.  So we started calling ourselves frotteurs.  She said, “I want to frottage you.”   I said it was a noun, so she said, “I want to do frottage to you.”  I just said, “nah, that’s ok.”

She asked if I minded, as a straight guy, if a transgendered sexually harasses me.  I said, nope, so long as it’s just for fun and she didn’t expect to get anywhere with me.  Being sexually harassed is ego boosting and I’m ok with that.  She said she doesn’t, she just likes to sexually harass straight guys when they allow it because it doesn’t happen often, and that she liked me because I was adorable and peculiar.  She kept calling me peculiar.  I like being peculiar.   I asked her if she minded if I kept sticking my hands down my pants to scratch my balls, and I explained the bet I lost and that I had to shave them.  They’re so fucking itchy from the hair growing back.  I said no when she offered to scratch them for me, and she told me that’s just a little part of the harassment.

She told me I was her caballero.  I said, that’s cool.  I began calling her Nicola, because it rhymed with Lola, and she loved that because that’s one of her favorite songs.  Eventually, I shortened it to Cola, which she liked even better. C-O-L-A Cola.

She stayed until the store closed and we walked to Dunkin’ Donuts.  She ordered warm milk with sugar and a splash of coffee thrown in.  Cola appreciates the opposites of everything.

Being with her, it was a shame to see all the stares and mockingly amused, demeaning expressions on people’s faces.  She lives like that every day of her life.  There was a lot of acceptance too.  But it sucks that the acceptance stands out and is recognized with gratitude.  Acceptance should just happen, without it being so extraordinary.

When it was time to go home, she said she didn’t want to go.  She was living with a man who was her supposed boyfriend, but they got in an argument and he kicked her out.  She was originally planning to return anyway, hoping the offer of a blow job would ease things.  Of course she had to add that men give the best blow jobs since they have the equipment, they know best what to do with it.

I responded with, “I thought you were all woman.”

“You’re cheeky.  I like that about you.”

I told her she could stay the night with me, but we had to take a cab, since I only had my bike.  I left my bike at the store, so hopefully tonight when I go back the tires won’t have been stolen.

Cola slept in my bed and I slept on the floor.  I have to wake her soon because I have to go to school this morning.  We’ll have a quick breakfast and coffee upstairs with Howard.  I’m pretty sure Howard will appreciate Cola’s visit, but he will also be baffled.  I like to throw Howard off now and then.  He never knows what to expect from me and I’m entertained by that.

And it’s late, gotta wake her up, but I’ll end with today’s theme song which unavoidably has to be “Lola” by The Kinks.


previous Grimm 176: Postmodern Abduction

next Grimm 178: Wall Grimm’s Entourage

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

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