Thankstupidity, Shitsmas, and Fleaster

And so, Fleaster. An essentially meaningless to me Christian holiday adopted from the Pagans; originally it was called Eaostre. A honey that was loosely associated with Ostara- the spring holiday. Looking at my niece's daughter, Ruby, who is almost 5 years old or is now 5, all dressed up in her Easter Sundy dress, suddenly I remember back to the days when I was the chimpanzee and had to wear that stupid god damn mother fucking monkey suit; the picture of the piece of shit I was born as standing on the Nassau County storm drain cover at Silver Lake in Baldwin, New York. Watching, as the saltwater sorry they came in or went out; the tidal surge sometimes overflowing into the brackish water lake and over Foxhurst Rd.

Not but I didn't like that dork you little suit at the time, I did. Today, my half a cunt at times " loving" sister, Linda went to church in the morning; that big Irish retired police officer boyfriend she's been with for the past million years, or so it seems to the asshole here that never had a fucking relationship last longer than 11 months in its pathetic life, along with the other douchebag fucking Irishman, Bill O'Reilly on Fox News, probably convinced her to return to the Church of our childhood. A church she loved so much mom and rolled over in Catholic school where, not only did she learn how to study for tests, she often was dragged down the hall and/or had her knuckles cracked with yardstick by the "nice" Catholic sisters!! Something which obviously taught Linda how to be a good little Catholic girl I'm grow up to be a submissive, ass kissing, reasonably successful businesswoman.

That and a good little Republican that has never strayed from the party which has become a part of your fucking Christian Jihadist assholes. Always the agreeable " good Catholic girl" except when she doesn't like your tone of voice or whatever you have to say- at which time she ignores you and gives you the cold fucking shoulder, Linda has faithfully taking her psychopharmacological brain pills since before our mother, Cosima Evelyn Gebbia- Oropal, croaked, on July 30, 2011. Always suggesting as to how I should have been taking the same looney pills from the time I was in middle and high school. The way she figures things, those pills would have helped me become a humble worker and "Enabled me to become a productive, taxpaying citizen who would then be able to hold a job working at McGarbage, or maybe Target or Walmart." Remind me to get the gun and kill myself, Linda. As suicide's far more enjoyable than the best workday at McDogshite or Walmart; my taxes paying for a nice warm jail cell to sleep and after I got caught for drinking and driving- or maybe drinking, driving, and TEXTING on my way home from Walmart, or Village Inn where I worked as an idiot clerk or bus person. Just like most of these brain dead drunkard, meth smoking idiots in New Mexico!!!!!

Yes Easter Sunday. A day when both Catholic and Christian, I mean CONSTANTINIAN, goes to church in their " Easter best". Listening to some fucking place to rehash the same old shit about how " Jesus Christ was crucified on Holy Thursday, rose from the dead and ascended into heaven on good friday, and appeared on Easter Sunday. Let us fucking PRAY! " Ahhh-fucking-hemm!

Now a transgender woman, one that does not fit in either the male or female spectrum of the two gender roles North can attest to having any clothes female friends- well, besides to cross dressing men called Transvestites ( their words) I know back in Connecticut, I can remember when I was 7 or 8 years old and living in Baldwin, Long Island, New York. Often reading Encyclopedia Britannica and studying the biological female anatomy, you know, the vagina, uterus, and fallopian tubes containing the eggs ready for fertilization soon as she turned 12-13 (mother having never taught me that a woman can get pregnant as young as 12 or 13-I learned this on my own! ) , after listening to that priest on Sunday morning at St. Christopher's Roman Catholic Church on Merrick Road/ SR 27A, many nights I'd have SCARY NIGHTMARES.

 After listening to that priest at St Christopher's RC Church, orphan on Saturday when I went to Mass in the afternoon but also on Sunday, priest talking about how Jesus died and rose for our sins to the point that I could see him coming off the stained glass windows on the walls of that church and float across the congregational chamber; those bleeding holes in his hands from where the Romans hammered in the nails; at the request of the Jews who wanted him killed, of course! the Romans were innocent; they just did whatever the Jews wanted them to because the Jews couldn't get blood on their hands, or so we were told by the Catholic priest! Often, he'd rehearse the same old story about the doubting Thomas; the disciple who, like fucking Peter when the cock crowed three times, REFUSED TO BELIEVE that Jesus is actually killed and returned to life as God's own son, Thomas being wrong for saying " If it is really you, Lord then show me the Nails!!! I want to see the nails!!!" Supposedly Thomas was the closest disciple of Yeshua- the Jewish Rabbi; however, in Christian and Catholic theory, Thomas was the bad guy!!!! After all, throughout history, the JEW was always the bad guy!!!

Honestly, as a young child of seven to nine years old, a time when my parents trusted me to ride my bicycle across Merrick Road to Saint Christopher's Roman Catholic Church (unlike the pathetic, paranoid suburban douchebags who call themselves parents today, those who can't even let their kids play in the front yard without supervision, only because they watch too much dog shit news on TV on Fox and local channels and I've been brainwashed into thinking the world is such a dangerous place for children!) , I WAS CONFUSED!!!! I REALLY THOUGHT THAT JESUS ACTUALLY PHYSICALLY ROSE FROM THE GRAVE AND CAME BACK TO LIFE!!! MUCH THE SAME AS MARILYN MANSON OF CANTON, OHIO SAW ANGELS AND DEVILS FLYING IN THE AIR AND FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER. Something Mr. Manson had been taught by both his Episcopal evangelical conservative parents and that teacher at Heritage Christian Academy!!!

Now for the clincher. And so, having that disgusting part I was born with down there, yes, that fucking phallus, that and those lumps of soon to become useless shit that were attached to it; those things I'd often have kicked by the Irish and Italian Catholic bullies back in Baldwin, Long Island, New York to the point that I begin crying like a little girl ( which I was-despite being told otherwise!) ; often, I'd walk around constantly tugging at my crotch. This being from the time I was around my niece's daughters age of 4-5 until well into my teenage years when those things were to grow and affect my moods; many times to the point that, after my parents moved me to Newtown Connecticut at age 12, drove me insane to the point that I, like Adam Lanza, wants to take a machine gun and shoot every motherfucker in Newtown!! The asshole jocks & preppies, in particular. Those who, like those Irish and Italian American assholes back in Baldwin, we're a bunch of fucking dickheads!!! Dickheads like the moron who ripped at st. Christopher's medallion right off my neck one day at Dickinson memorial town park.

And so, between the ages of 7 to 9 years old when I went to St Christopher's Roman Catholic Church, in Baldwin, Long Island, New York and was sitting in Mass, during the whole sit, stand, kneel, and stand again bullshite as we were told to do by the priest, I would stare up at nice pictures of Jesus, the halo around his head depicted on the stained glass windows. That brilliant springtime sunshine shining through the Western window on a Saturday afternoon at Mass.

Getting home that night, or, when I went to Mass on Sunday morning at 11, sometime late on Sunday afternoon on the days I attended Mass on Sunday morning and went fishing, at Loft's Lake Pond on Merrick Road, right back at you Encyclopedia Britannica I would dive. Studying what else? The female anatomy of uterus, vagina, and fallopian tubes. Correlating what I read in the Encyclopedia Britannica's Medical encyclopedia directed with the whole "dying and rising" God theory the priest always taught us at church. Then came the NIGHTMARES. LITERALLY I COULD SEE THOSE HOLES IN JESUS' HANDS! AT WHICH TIME I'D FREAK OUT AND WONDER WHAT IT FELT LIKE TO FEEL THOSE NAILS GOING THROUGH MY OWN HANDS AND WRISTS!!! IT WAS SCARY.

Soon came nighttime. A time when mother used to teach me, what one hopes of making my Godmother Aunt Rita happy, to pray to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen!! As black people in the South would say: May I have another Amen!! Drifting off to sleep, our cat, Frisky, often coming in my room to sleep upon his favorite desk in the alcove overlooking the street; usually staying awake all night as cats do-Frisky would just look at the window all night to watch the alley cats fight in the street; knowing that my asshole neighbor living next store, Tommy Ward, what sound asleep and wouldn't be running them over with his hot rod Corvette as he'd drive up and down Tulip Ave in Baldwin; often at speeds exceeding 50 miles per hour!!!! Old Frisky being too smart, luckily, TO GET KILLED UNDER ASSHOLE TOMMY WARD'S WHEELS!! SCHMUCK!!!

And so, saying my prayers like the good little Catholic "M-thing" I was supposed to be, Mom would tuck her little bastard child into bed and under the covers. I being the misbehaving little bastard that the psychiatrist told one of the put on fucking Ritalin; something which every one of my Jewish friends from the special, or "retard school" I went to called BOCES we're on already! Their parents often being far wealthier than my idiot father ever was, their Jewish parents would send them to the perfect psychiatrist. A man who'd then prescribe " looney pills" for them so as to make their busy parents jobs a lot easier; as well as help the teacher micromanage each and every one of them in class!

And so, deep into sleep I'd fall. Not having a first clue as to how my father managed to keep the house going, keep food on the table for the family, and buy me all those toys in hopes that it would make me a better child at mother's request. Mom hoped that my having lots of Jennifer hope your toys to play with would make me happy. HAPPY. Like that's stupid fucking songs Mary Kaye liked so goddamn much. The woman at the homeless camp I met last summer. 

Frisky up on that desk and sometimes growling and hissing at other male cats outside, Frisky being smarter than any of them because he had his testicles surgically removed ( hence: his fear of speeding cars on busy Atlantic Ave. 200 feet south of 2817 Tulip Ave Baldwin, NY 11510) , often I'd awaken at like 2 am.This after, in my first dream, literally seeing Jesus coming down with the blood pouring out of the holes in his hands and wrists; Thomas hollering loudly, " HOW DO I KNOW IF YOU ARE THE REAL CHRIST OR NOT? I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT IT'S YOU, LORD!!! IF YOU ARE THE CHRIST, THEN, SHOW ME THE NAILS!!!! I WANT TO SEE THE NAILS!!!" Remember......the cock shall crow thrice!!!!

Mom sometimes coming inside my room after she heard me screaming really loud in FEAR and telling her how I felt those nails penetrating my hands just like they did to Jesus when the Romans, who were paid by the Jews to kill Jesus Christ, pounded those nails-HARD- into the palms of his hand!!!! At which turn should reassure me that everything was ok and to go back to sleep. As 4y frisky ever came in my room, that I do not know? After all, like my brother before me who stay in that room and threw him off the porch when he was just a tiny kitten, Frisky hated me because I was often an animal abuser. All children are, those with emotional problems especially!!!

Again falling into a deep sleep, usually around 4 o'clock in the morning, I'd have another nightmare and wake up again. Only difference being that this time the vagina monster is coming to get me. She floated like a ghost across the room in my dreams. Constantly alternating with images of Jesus Christ with the holes in his hands bleeding profusely! ( Doubting Thomas!!!) . The vagina monster having looked just like the fallopian tubes, uterus, and vagina as depicted in Encyclopedia Britannica's Family Medical Encyclopedia. 

Back when I was 7-9, I hadn't the foggiest idea of what she wanted. Now that I've come out of the closet, I know why she came. Why she often alternated her persona with Jesus Christ and those totally gnarly, bleeding holes in his hands!!! She what's coming for me, trying to tell me something. Trying she snatched me up with those hands made out of fallopian tubes as she came through the closed door leading out to the outdoor porch above the den, or Florida room. The same one my older brother, Joseph Albert Oropal, threw Frisky off when he still lived at home- all because frisky was on his bed and he hated having a cat sleep on his bed!

Meanwhile, and I'm sure both my aging Catholic Uncle Sal and Aunt Rita still remember this; often, I'd walk around the neighborhood constantly tugging at the crotch of my pants. Doing this whenever mom and dad would take me out to a restaurant, to the park, what's a visit company, as they called our relatives, as well as their friends. My father being embarrassed of what, in his own words to my mother, " The stupid goddamn moron SOB kept doing so as to embarrass (its) family", he'd always yell at me. " STOP IT. CALL DAMMIT DON'T YOU KNOW THAT WHEN YOU DO THAT IT REFLECTS ON THE FAMILY AND YOUR UPBRINGING?" Replying, I'd tell him, " I can't. Something's making me uncomfortable and making my pants feel tight all the time! I hate it Dad. I hate myself and wish the hell I was dead! If only I was lucky enough to get hit by my neighbor when he speeds up and down the street in his hot rod car! 

Tommy was a surfer; he look just like those surfer boys from where Cassandra-a woman I know from our atheist meetings, lived in Orange County, California. Long Island, NY also being a big surfer hotspot, Tommy would brag about how we drove out to East Hampton and Montauk and surfed big waves seen on windy days that reminded him of California.Worthy of mention here would be how Tommy Ward, and his brother Jamie ( John, Jr) HATED MY FUCKING GUTS. MUCH THE SAME AS EVERY OTHER BOY ON TULIP AVENUE AND MOST OF THE GIRLS AS WELL. To them, I was a " spas", a god damn mother fucking retard. More then once I almost got my wish. It would speed up and try to run me over every time I cross the street. Other times, however, Tommy Ward would allow me to ride in his souped up hot rod Corvette. At which time he would speed down tulip Avenue as fast as 55 miles per hour; laughing, as he scare all the kids were playing in the street to near death. One girl, as I remember, running up to him and crying because she ran over her cat and killed it dead! To which tommy said something like " GOOD! MY MOM WAS SICK OF YOUR CAT COMING OVER AND PISSING AND SHITTING IN OUR BUSHES ALL THE TIME ANYWAY!" 

Like his father, John James Ward Senior and brother Jamie ( gay- but in the closet still, I believe?) Tommy was a rotten asshole. One time when my mother came over to tell him to stop racing the car in the driveway all day, the car literally spent on her fucking feet. Telling her " Fuck you Mrs. OROPAL!! And how about spastic little retard that, if ( it) ever tries to jump on mine, or my father's cars again I will beat ( its) brains in, tying ( it) to the back of my car as I drag ( its) retarded little ass down the street!"

Yeah, much like my so called adult life, I often being less " mature" than the average 21 to 22 year old college student here at New Mexico State University, I did not know how to act around people. Lacking both social skills and the ability to fight the bullies, I took my frustrations out on myself. Doing everything from taking off almost all my clothes and running up and down Tulip Avenue in Baldwin in my underwear; so getting on my bicycle and riding really fast on the sidewalk. Running over as many job carriages, big wheels, and everything else the kids left over as if I was Tarzan! This, I often did during the three religious holidays of the year; Thanksgiving, Christmas, and yes, Easter. Usually after drinking at least 8 to 12 glasses of wine given to me by my Sicilian Italian grandmother, Sadie Gebbia; Reveri parents weren't looking, grandma getting used to always give us as much wine as we could drink. At which time mom would open her big mouth and start screaming at her; " WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING MOM? THESE KIDS ARE TOO YOUNG TO BE DRINKING ALCOHOL! BUT NO, YOU ENCOURAGE THEM!!!" To which Grandma often replied, loudly and proudly, " DON'T YOU DARE TELL MA-MA WHAT TO DO. ITS THE LORDS HOLIDAY LET THE KIDS HAVE SOME WINE!!!"

Yeah, my long having grown up and become an ADULT cousin, Diana, I as well, we loved it when Grandma Gebbia you're used to give us wine! As usual, Dad came running and began yelling at her too. " WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOUR CHICK GIVING A LITTLE MORE ON WINE WHEN YOU KNOW ( IT) CANNOT HANDLE IT! NOW IT'S GOING TO GO IN HER EYES THE NEIGHBORHOOD LIKE IT USUALLY DOES! YOU OUGHTA BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! THIS IS AMERICA, NOT ITALY!"

At which time, soon as Dad try to punish me or force me to go to my room, I would run right out of the house ripping off my clothes and screaming; or more often, running like hell out through the garage, hitting the automatic door button, and getting on my bicycle. At which time I would storms on the sidewalks tulip Avenue and run over there was a big meals, doll carriages, what I forgot in my way. My irate and often angry, mean tempered father running after me and yelling, I would yell "fuck you dad! You CANNOT STOP ME BY GIVING ME THE SPANKING OF MY LIFE!!" At which time I would play "drunk driver!" A game in which the object is not only run over every big wheel and carriage on tulip Avenue on the sidewalk, and sometimes peoples cats with the bicycle if they got in my way, BUT MORE OFTEN RATHER THAN HIT A CAT, I WOULD RUN INTO OTHER CHILDREN. ESPECIALLY THOSE GOD DAMN TANNER GIRLS UP THE STREET WHO ALWAYS THREW ROCKS AT ME AND CALLED ME A "RETARD" AND A "FAGGOT"!!! ONCE, I BELIEVE, I TOOK MY BICYCLE WHEEL ON A HIT AND TANNER RIGHT BETWEEN THE LEGS. TRYING TO HER HER AS MUCH AS SHE DID WHEN SHE PICK UP A STICK AND DO THE SAME TO ME; HOHER IRISH BOY BULLIES STANDING UP FOR HER.

Other times, however, I just simply took my frustrations out on myself. Screaming, if I smashed my skull cap repeatedly into those hard plaster walls, and even the fieldstones on the outside of our house. I hate myself and hated what I was born as. Truthfully, I never can attest to ever feeling like the "boy" I was supposed to be. That creature who stood up to piss, or, as my often I'm reading someone's stupid father would often say..." Make a siss". Men's and boys rooms scared the living shit out of me, yeah I didn't know why. Nothing annoyed me more than hearing the sound of urine splashing into the toilet water; I was ashamed of my body and ashamed of myself. Not even Dr. Herbert. Rosenthal of Oceanside, New York, a Jewish psychologist who had a practice in Long Beach, could figure out what's wrong with me? Dad, meanwhile, was so unhappy about the way I kept pulling at my crotch and front of my pants. As he often said to Mom, " I deliberately embarrass him and the rest of my family by not knowing how to act right when in public!"

And so, listening to those Jewish parents whose children were also in BOCES, Jewish parents that had a lot more money than my family did, mom and dad took me to a psychiatrist in Manhasset, Long Island, New York; right near Great Neck with my sisters lives today, and yes, close to Plandome Manor what her favorite Fox News personality, Bill O'Reilly lives with whatever woman he is fucking these days after his wife left him. Naturally, the idiot put me on fucking Ritalin. That and some kind of tranquilizer so I could sleep better at night- probably trazadone; that and Niacin for my vitamin deficiency. At the time, I didn't eat meat nor many vegetables; the only thing I like to eat with pasta and more pasta, and yes, the Chinese wonton soup and Egg foo young with my parents lied to me and told me it didn't have pork in it- IT DID. other times, when they took me to White Castle over in Lynbrook on the Sunrise Highway ( SR 27) , they would trick me into eating a White Castle hamburger or two. Mom saying, " It's just bread. Not real meat." BULLSHIT!

Between my parents, and some of those teachers are used to have at BOCES, Mrs. Greenfield comes to mind here. The Jewish woman who taught us at the Lakeview location of BOCES situated in an old Elementary School building on Lakeview Avenue in a Nassau County Community that was all black by that time ( 1970-71). Oh how I treated us children like stupid..... well, it's fucking retards! Not but most of us warming, we were shooting the zombie pills the psychiatrists had been force feeding us at the request of both teachers and parents who expected us to stay calm and know how to behave properly!!!

One sunny spring afternoon, the teachers at Greenfield BOCES took her for a walk around like for you to "meet the neighbors". Something which, considering that most of us kids were white and either Italian, Irish, or Jewish, felt rather odd. Baldwin did not have any black people in it at the time, North Rockville Centre, Lynbrook, Valley Stream, Merrick, Bellmore, and yes, Massapequa where my Jewish friend Morgan lived! it felt really weird to have to say hello to black people when, bacchanal neighborhood mostly white, we were taught to do the opposite.

Don't get it started here, please. I was AFRAID OF THOSE BLACK PEOPLE; ONLY BECAUSE, AT THE TIME BACK IN BALDWIN, NEW YORK, EVERY GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING WHITE BOY ON MY STREET AND ALL THE WHITE GIRLS CALLED THEM WELL THE N-WORD. "Niggers". Something which my family, & I give them credit for this, taught me to never say! This to the point that one time, back when Mr Ward-the retired NYPD detective had his floor business and would wax floors, at our house and working, told my father that instead of bailing me out, he should have " Let the police come take me to the looney bin, to jail with those niggers so I could get my brains beat it and learn my lesson!" Yes-Mr. John Ward was... A FUCKING COP.

Need I say that, for once, my father did something right??? Standing up to Mr Ward, Dad literally screamed at him really loud: " DON'T YOU DARE TALK THAT WAY AROUND MY WIFE AND MY KID- YOU GOD DAMN BIGOTED IRISH BASTARD YOU! WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? WITH YOUR IDIOT I WISH DETECTIVES AND COPS DRINKING WHISKEY ALL DAY BACK AT THE PRECINCT IN BROOKLYN, NEW YORK? TELL YOU WHAT, GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE. NEXT TIME YOU COME BACK I'D BETTER NOT BE HERE! OR OK I'LL SWING AT YOU WITH A BASEBALL BAT AND GIVE YOU WHAT YOUR GOD DAMN IRISH COPS TO THE BLACK PEOPLE ALL THE TIME WHEN YOU ARREST THEM FOR THOSE DRUGS!"

Yes, Baldwin, Long Island, New York circa 1972. Soon after, Dad had our kitchen remodeled. At what's time you told that old miserable Irish cop next door " Your services are no longer needed! Go back to the forest and go drink some whiskey with all the other idiots detectives like yourself!" GOOD GOING JOB. I ALWAYS THOUGHT YOU WERE A FUCKING ASSHOLE BUT THAT TIME YOU WERE RIGHT, AND YES YOU RAISED ME TO BE RIGHT. Yet another time, with my friends around the corner, or white kids they run up and down the street to welcome the first new black kid to the neighborhood. Hollering out " JUNGLE BUNNY!!! ME TARZAN. I AM KING OF THE JUNGLE; YOU JUNGLE BUNNY." Like the gullible idiot I was, as my father always called me, and yes he was right, I've decided to join in the fun. DESPERATE TO BE ACCEPTED IN MY BALDWIN, NEW YORK NEIGHBORHOOD.

However, I was also stupid enough to come running home and tell my father about our little game of "jungle bunny" . After it's time my father sent me in the corner and told me" Just because the rest of your moron friends call blacks that derogatory bad racist word doesn't mean you have to. Most I'm done have drunken cop fathers like the Irish idiot next door!" And so, back to Lakeview. It so odd for me, as well as the other kids to learn how to be friendly with all kinds of people; that was not what we were taught that in our mostly white neighborhoods. However, even though she often treated us like a bunch of retarded idiots zombies on medication- not that almost all the rest besides myself were not that, thanks to mommy, daddy, and the nice psychiatrist who gave us the happy pills, I must say that, being Jewish, Mrs Greenfield taught us right!!" Today, Baldwin is mostly black north of the Sunrise Highway and LIRR tracks; however, my old neighborhood is still mostly white but, kind of mixed. It has black, white, Chinese, other Asian, and yes, more upper middle class Puerto Ricans and Mexicans- all of her me the work in the city at six figure income jobs, or own their own businesses and software companies. Baldwin has changed. However, the place where mom and dad moved be too, not the cause balding was starting to have blacks move in, but to get away from the asshole white people next store who wants to kill both me and my mother ( and probably would have / almost did once-Mr Ward kept several civil service revolvers at home plus 2-3 shotguns). However, Newtown was a lot more prejudiced, they were just simply bigots. Many of them were, anyway. To this day, despite the fact that Newtown has gotten a lot less prejudiced except when it comes to class status, let me get the same bigoted white assholes I went to highschool with us living there, raising their children just as they were raised. Others who never made it in life have one moved on to places like Florida, Pennsylvania, Texas, and probably Kentucky and Tennessee.