Fad Diet
Dear Bonesy:
Girl, I miss you.
Every since you went and got married, things have been a drag around here. No more wild parties and vampish runs through the New York club scene. No more cocaine and run sex. We were two girls drove men crazy everywhere we went.
Of course, I know it isn’t you.
I’m happy for you and glad you found that special someone you always wanted in your life.
But since you’ve gone, things have taken a sharp turn downward with “just say no” to everything. It’s never been so boring, and I sit here going out of my mind wondering where all the good times went.
Drugs are out. Sex isn’t safe. Next people will tell me it isn’t safe to breathe.
Sure, I went out some after you left. It felt like I went to a weak, everyone seemed to know someone who was hooked, HIV positive or already dead.
Not much room for thrill-seekers there.
I suppose that’s why I took up with the hell-bent crowd that always scared us when you were around, those who went a lot further and took a lot more risk than we ever wanted to.
I figured it was worth the gamble. They wouldn’t be doing much worse than everybody else. At least, they were having fun. What’s the point of having a good job and making good money if you can’t have fun with it?
They hinted that they had gone even “farther out” than we knew them.
That made me a little nervous, I suppose.
Yet, I remember how this group was always first to try things that people later grabbed onto, like eating raw fish and getting tattoos. Then when that seemed tame, they began to eat the fish alive, needing to have it flap on the plate before they would have anything to do with it. I always thought the skin grafts, body piercing even surgically installed canine teeth seemed outrageous. Now these things seem tame, too, though I still won’t eat the brains of a living monkey, something they picked up from some Asian tribe or something.
With sex, they went far beyond anything we ever did. These people practically kill each other with sex.
I admit. I was more than a little apprehensive about the sex when I joined. For all of our wild times, by their standards I was still a virgin. Even you remember rumors of their massive public orgies.
After so long without a man, I was almost willing to try anything to get the old feeling back – though I flatly refused to engage with a cow or horse, they way some suggested.
Fortunately, they already saw bestiality as old hat, having gone through that phase a year before I joined.
Even some of them admitted never being totally comfortable with it. People got hurt trying to get and around the claws and teeth of their intended lovers.
Then, they also had issues with the various strange diseases animals seemed to breed.
They told me, however, they had something even more outrageous, something so far out on the edge that main stream would never adopt it.
That’s when I really got scared.
Part of my fear came from the look in their eyes and the way they licked their lips.
What could be more far out than doing it with animals, I wondered. Were we talking vegetable or mineral now? Or aliens from outer space?
That’s when they introduced me to the kids.
All prepubescent children of every race. Age seemed to be the only criteria for selection. The child had to be between ages 7 and 10.
They all looked innocent and scared. None quite aware of what we wanted from them.
When I asked where they got such kids from, they winked, and said part of the challenge was that each had to snatch a child from the street.
All I could see in my mind were the faces staring back at me from the side of milk cartons.
As horrified as I was at the idea of having sex with children was, the situation grew worse when I found out, we didn’t have sex with them, we ate them.