So long, punk-rock girl: When I saw the cover of the February 16 issue, I thought to myself, "That girl looks familiar." Lo and behold, the girl's name was Brenda. I never knew her last name, so I had to read Jessica Centers's "Femme Fatale" article. Sure enough, it was the same Brenda I knew when I first came out to the clubs. At the time, it was the Wreck Room at 1082 Broadway, back in the early '90s. She had poked me with her evil jacket. She said her name was Brenda, but everyone called her Brenda the Bitch. And she was like no one I'd ever known.
We'd see each other every Sunday, during Goth Night. Talk a while, but she was always drunk. My friends were a little afraid for me, thinking she might beat me up on account of I was black. I assured them that wasn't the case. Brenda and I talked about all kinds of social issues, and I realized how little I knew about the world. We talked about old movies sometimes, really the only thing we had in common. She was also the first girl I ever kissed! I was in the mood for some experimentation, so she offered. It was more fun seeing the people react than anything. At least she was a good kisser!
I was so saddened to find out what had happened to her. As a matter of fact, I was completely shocked. Not knowing what became of her since the last time I'd seen her, it was a real blow. I had no idea that it was the same person! Since I don't live in Capitol Hill anymore, I missed the fliers, and I really hate watching the news. No one should have to die like that. I know if she had the chance, she would've put up a helluva fight. If it wasn't the work of Brent Brents, I can only hope and pray that her killer is brought to justice.
So long, sweetie. Maybe we'll see each other again and talk about those old movies...
The idea man: Regarding Kenny Be's "Life Without Illegal Immigrants," the February 16 Worst-Case Scenario:
I know that Kenny's scenario is probably a satire on folks who believe that American jobs should be had by (mostly) American citizens. But Kenny did have some good, usable ideas.
If the street beggars are actually induced to get a job (gasp!), then the cost to taxpayers for rescues in cold weather, alcohol and drug treatment, and emergency services at Denver Health might be reduced.
Kids working in restaurants? Gee, lots of motivated cultures (like Greek and Arab and even Italian peoples) have traditions of kids actually working in the family business. Oh, my, if the kids have to help out at work, can requirements for mowing the yard or doing the dishes be far behind? The video-game industry will not be happy with that.
And schoolkids having to learn a skill? Surely you jest. If the little bums in DPS, many of whom are psychopathic druggies, are forced to learn some work skills before they drop out, then it might be easier for the Department of Corrections to place them in jobs when they are on future "work release."
Keep up the good work, Kenny, even if you did not mean for them to be good ideas.
Heart-to-heart talk: Dearest Kenny Be,
I accept your classy offer of love in the February 9 Worst-Case Scenario and furthermore wish to proclaim -- no, testify! -- that I have held a secret passion for you for many years. Well, a secret to all but the FBI, who have no doubt grown weary of tapping my numerous phone calls to friends, anarchists and my trusted telepsychic about my ever-increasing adoration of you, intercepting my e-mails regaling your latest feats of wit, and, every so often, covertly witnessing my personal moments "alone" with thoughts of you. Nevertheless, I want to redeem my Valentine offer of love for one year.
Sadly, because of the reality of Joint Terrorism Task Force surveillance, our romantic activities together may be somewhat limited. Gone are the days when my dates and I could share a dumpstered pizza by the soft glow of a trash-can fire, when we could merely yield instead of come to a full stop at intersections on our moonlight bicycle rides and, most heartbreaking of all, when we could innocently skinny-dip in the Platte River undetected by the authorities. But I know that your "artistic creativity" and my "criminal intellect" will help us find many ways to share our love. Never fear, the Homeland we build together will be forever secured by our bonds of love.