M____ wanted a knife so he could slash the tires of every single bicycle on Broadway. He said it would be a new form of ecoterrorism.
M____’s quote in our 8th grade yearbook was “10011101010011.”
During a soccer game in elementary school, M____ called my godmother ugly, without realizing she was my godmother. When I told him, he got kind of awkward and then pretended to have a recording of her calling him ugly, even going so far as to imitate her voice. He said that made them equal.
M____ used to scream ‘NIGGER!’ at people on the Ave while driving through it in his car, which was an old cop car.
M____ said in prison everybody would get together every week to watch the new episode of “Nip/Tuck.” For some reason they all loved that show.
M____ was very short. Whenever I think of the phrase “Napoleon complex”, I always think of M____. He was also exceedingly hairy. He had the body hair of a 40-year-old man when he was a freshman in high school.
M____ came to a party at my house with a shoebox full of cocaine. He locked himself in the bathroom and for the next hour a bunch of intimidating 30-year-old guys with earpiece cell phones went into the bathroom and then came out and left without saying anything to anybody else at the party. Everybody had to pee outside for this period.
I slept over at M____’s house one night in like 5th grade and we decided to watch “The Exorcist” which was supposedly the scariest movie ever. We had heard it was about the devil possessing a little girl. I was nervous. M____ comforted me by telling me he was named after the angel M____, who was “basically God’s bodyguard.” After the movie we were both completely freaked out and had to play the Rugrats videogame on his Playstation to calm down.
For an indeterminate period of time M___ was drinking something like seven Mountain Dews a day.
M____ was obsessed with professional wrestling. He came to my 11th birthday party with a dirty sock and proceeded to stick it down the throats of the kids I had invited that he didn’t like. He was imitating Mankind.
M____ told me he read a lot of John Grisham while he was in prison. Like every single John Grisham book ever written.
I’ve kissed M____ a lot more than any other boy I can think of. Just little pecks. I think it’s because he’s Italian so for some reason I don’t feel gay about it.
I might remember this wrong but I’m pretty sure M____ tore out a clump of his pubic hair and put it on some kid’s desk during art class once.
One night we camped out in M____’s back yard. We read Bible verses and tried to make energy shoot out of our palms, promising God we would ‘only use our powers for good.’ I didn’t believe in God at this point but M____ was pretty fervent. We both said the next morning that we could see the energy balls flying around inside the tent.
M____ got high on Oxycontin and then went to the bathroom and didn’t come out for a long time. Then he started yelling things like “Come the fuck on!” and “Jesus fucking Christ!” I asked his girlfriend what was going on. “He can’t pee when he’s really high,” she said. “So he screams at his dick.”
I helped M____ beat Metal Gear Solid and Resident Evil 2 when we were in middle school.
M____’s favorite musical group is the 3 6 Mafia.
M____ sold a stolen gun and a bunch of crack cocaine to an undercover FBI agent.