Cory has been a good friend of mine for more than 20 years. I wouldn’t say that we’re close now – life does have a way of rending friends from one another without careful care – but each time I see him, it is a joyous and all-too-short encounter. I thought that one day I’d make an entire site dedicated to his stories, but now they’re just going to live here.
In his 20s to 30s, Cory was a bit irresponsible and a lot experimental. He walked an adventurous path with a great attitude and more courage than I could ever muster. No matter what the outcome, he was always up for more.
In Our College Days
Cory used to save his farts in jars. Yes, plural, making it all the more unusual gross. He inherited the most vile toxic emissions from his father. Words are incapable of describing how foul his farts could be and he took great pride in this. So he saved them, to share with unwitting friends, in jars in his bedroom. As if the practice itself wasn’t strange (weird, crazy?) enough, the results were hilarious (as long as you weren’t the victim, of course). He once unscrewed a cap for a friend to elicit the extreme inhalation disgust, then rapidly resealed the jar so he could spring it on someone else another day.
Encounter at Coit Tower
Not long after Cory moved to San Francisco, he was visiting Coit Tower at night (possibly Halloween or another fall holiday) with some friends. He was on acid, and probably some additional illicit drugs, as he’s always been an experimenter. (I’ve mentioned his tendency toward bad judgment, right?) Well, on this particular evening, Cory was walking around the Tower, admiring the views of the city from this lovely spot. All was going great until a strange girl came charging up with her boyfriend in tow and pointed at Cory and said something to the effect of “He’s the guy who tried to rape me!” Well, in addition to the statement itself being false, Cory had never before seen the girl or her boyfriend, and was incapable of such an act. He’s a really nice guy, with good intentions, and possibly one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met. He’s also a raging homosexual. Not that he didn’t try a few girls back in the day, but by this time, he knew his love was for the boys.
His protestations of innocence, along with his slight frame, led to him getting a solid pounding at the hands of the boyfriend and the boyfriend’s friends. His only crime? Wrong place at the wrong time. (A crime that is probably the single most common in San Francisco.) His friends came along shortly and took him to the emergency room to get patched up. No serious harm done, except to his sense of security and a few bruises he didn’t earn.
I think that’s enough for today. I’ll post some more later.
I did not know that was possible. The saving farts (or smells in general) in jars thing. Does it really work? Do you just wave the jar around behind yourself? Does that really capture the smell? And wouldn’t it dissipate, even with the lid closed? I mean, it sounds like it worked, but it just seems like it defies all logic. Curiouser and curiouser.
You know – he’s done several things that I used to think were urban legends. Like putting a ball chain up his nose and coughing it out his mouth. (He eventually stopped doing this because “it hurt”.)
Apparently he also burned his butt-hair lighting his farts on fire. (ew ew ew) Thankfully I wasn’t there for that one!