Tuesday, September 16, 2008

The streets of Bakersfield........Buck Owens would be so proud

I'm dedicating this next post to my beloved hometown, Bakersfield, Ca, my unusual adolescence and awesome crazy family. I can't believe how much I love/hate it all equally. I am a very complex girl.

The town that spawned me was 30% Mexican, 20%black and 50% white. The white percentage was mostly spun out rednecks who up until 1989 were still having Klan parades down the middle of N. Chester Ave. They inhabited a part of town called Oildale and were referred to as Dalians. They seem to be proud of the moniker, plastering it all over hats, shirts and even flesh. The usual insults seemed oddly appropriate ala How do you know toothpaste was invented in Oildale? Because anywhere else it would have been called teethpaste. Local celebrity Buck Owens was spoken of in reverent whispers, like it was the name of the one true God. The sign in the pic above was relocated to Buck Owens Blvd for fuck sake, it was..............interesting.
Anyway, I myself was not a product of Oildale. I was raised in Stockdale, which was the polar opposite of the dale. It was pretentious, upscale and completely insulated. Boring! I spent my younger years learning how to bypass the alarm system and scale 8 ft walls. My mom was/is a total tyrant. I love her but she is a little repressed, I was getting crucified for pulling shit that my friends got dirty looks for.
I was totally spoiled, never had to do anything for myself but at the same time I was expected to be perfect. Now let me say I don't blame my family for anything I've done, it was all me but I think that all those expectations may have given me motivation to look for alternative ways to entertain myself. The whole rich-y scene wasn't doing it for me. I pretty much hated all those fuckers and their own kids felt the same way. Over-priviledged kids with nothing better to do than join the ranks of disenfranchised youth. How cliche!
Again I could have chosen to stay on the straight and narrow but it's so..............straight and narrow. No room for deviation and I loooove deviation.
My dad was a totally awesome fuck-up and I guess I take after him. He is 1/2 Hispanic, so I guess that makes me 1/4 spic. I'm cool with that because I can call myself a Mexi-cunt. I do think that it sounds like something on the menu at Taco Bell though, "I would like two soft tacos and a Mexi-cunt please."HAHA
We're supposed to be related to Che Guevara somehow on my dad's side which would mean that questionable decisions run in the family. Whatever!
Anyway, I still to this day wonder how the fuck my mom and dad ever hooked up. He was a completely gnarly drug dealer and my mom was a spoiled goody two shoes. My dad is covered in prison ink and my mom's lily white skin would shrivel at the thought of being desecrated by such. My dad was a remorseless psycho and my mom was just plain psycho, maybe that was the common denominator.
So I grew up with various step-dads and went to private school; OLPH- Our Lady of Perpetual Heartburn...I mean Help. Catholic school was shitty and has left me with a few weird phobias. Because of the sadistic God-whores they call nuns I will never be able to enjoy watching such modern day classics as 'Sister Act' or *shudder* 'The Flying Nun' (truly nightmare worthy) .
I am afraid of nuns in the same way I am afraid of Janice Dickinson and The Burger King.........they
scare the ever livin' shit outta me! If I were to wake up with that hard plastic Burger King in my bed I think I would expire on the spot, ditto for leathery Janice Dickinson.
The only nun I will ever let near my person again is the one that is sucking off Jesus on my T-shirt! Nuns are horrible bloodthirsty beasts that should be kept behind acres of razor-wire. Maybe on a nun preserve in hot-ass Africa. I bet there are alot of motherfuckers that would pay good $$$ to hunt real live nuns!
Sweet tidy-bowl Jesus walkin' on blue water, I think I may have come up with a helluva money maker there. Note to self, look into starting free-range nun preserves in hot-ass Africa.
I would say that I started getting into trouble pretty young. I was probably the only girl in the 7Th grade dating a guy who was 11 years old when I was born. I have always been very advanced when it comes to certain things:)
I was not an easy kid to keep hold of and my mom spent way too much money trying to do just that. I had/have no problem with leaving my comfortable home behind and setting off for foreign lands like"Hollywood" and "San Francisco." Exotic places with no discernible links to Hee Haw or Dwight Yokum. Even further afield, "Las Vegas" and "Denver", I HATE Vegas by the way.
I was and probably still am a major pain in my mother's ass! As much as I talked shit about Bako when I was kid, I eventually figured out that there was no place I'd rather be. In that town I can score any drug imaginable, go downtown and see about a million people I know and even spend some time with my nutso family.
I miss it alot, even Oildale. I miss making fun of cowboys who wouldn't know a cow if it shat on their faces and getting into fights at Trout's (Oildale shitkicker bar). I miss shooting smack in the bathroom at the Padre Hotel, affectionately known as my office. I miss driving through the Lake view projects and having 50 guys run up to the car trying to sell me crack. I miss getting free dope from OGs who knew my dad. I miss my family and friends. I miss shitty mom and pop drive-ins and people not looking at me like I'm speaking Swahili when I ask for a Pastrami sandwich.
As things stand I will probably not be living in Cali for a long time. I think maybe all the bullshit I have been cultivating here is a subconscious effort to get Casey to cry uncle and send me back. It doesn't seem to be working. I wouldn't put up with my shit, I don't understand why he does.
I guess I am just so beautiful, brilliant, witty etc. that he can't bear the thought of letting me go. Plus I give excellent head, lets not forget about that. I have made myself miserably homesick but will refrain from doing what I oughtn't. I will stay home tonight!
My mom says I haven't got the sense God gave a mule. I think I may(finally) be insulted. Lets wait and see if she's right.