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| Hi !!! I'm Kevin Maguire!!! |
| My name is Kevin Maguire. I grew up in Winsted Connecticut. People also hate my guts in Southeastern Mass and the Providence RI area.  I had a pretty normal homelife as a kid. I played with dolls, pulled the wings off flies and tortured small animals for fun. At school I was chased and beaten up everyday for being such a loser and cry-baby and psycho. Every day after school, on the ride home in the schoolbus I had to give head to all the 3rd grade bullies in the back of the bus. By the time I was in the 6th grade the bullys from the 4th grade were making me blow them too, on the way to school ... and taking my lunch money. The girls used to beat me up a lot. At home, I would try to tell my father about it and beg him to put a stop to it but he was usually drunk and would make me blow him too. Every night I would cry myself to sleep. My brothers would get all pissed off and they would all make me blow them too. It was hard for me. I got very little sleep and had to get up early so I could hang my pissy sheets out to dry on the front porch and then have to give Mommy her daily sponge bath out in the front yard. ******************************************* Mommy is a special lady. She weighs 600 pounds and is confined 24 hours a day to a special potty chair on wheels. It's always parked in front of the refrigerator, next to the microwave oven. All she does is eat and shit and eat and shit. Well, you get the picture. Junior high school was like a vacation for me. No more mean 3rd and 4th graders. I spent most of the 7th and 8th grades crammed inside a locker. All day, every day When the other kids passed by they would all kick and punch the locker. I made it thru Junior High but almost did not pass. Luckily I struck a deal with the principal. If I blew him and all the other male teachers, including the janitor, I would get a passing D grade. High school was more of the same. By then most of the boys stopped making me blow them. They would fuck me instead. ******************************************* Prom night was the highlight of my senior year. Mommy says that Girls are the Devil. I never had a steady girl, except for Mommy. I paid the town slut (my sister) to go to my prom with me. She said OK but no kissing. I made up a joke and went around to every person and told it to them. Ok, here it is..... I would point at their plate of food and say, Are you gonna finish that? HAHAHAHA It was so funny! When the band played, I danced the 1st dance with my date. She disappeared soon afterwards. Later, a circle of boys were in the middle of the dance floor clapping and cheering. I pushed thru to see what was going on. There, in the center of it all, was my sister, laying on her back, her dress up around her neck and her ankles behind her ears and no panties. At first I thought she was break dancing but as it turned out, she was just looking for a date! After the dance was over, she left with the football, basketball, hockey and swim teams. I went around and cleaned all the plates off into a huge Hefty bag. Mommy said to bring her back a doggie bag and this would hold her over till breakfast. ******************************************* A few years later I moved from my parents house. I had come home one day and the locks were changed. I moved around a lot. Sleeping in my car and making new friends at all the local shelters and free clinics. I decided I was gay because girls all hated me. Luckily for me I had a lifetime full of experience and practice giving head and getting cornholed. I became an alcoholic and drug addict. The voices in my head told me to drink... A LOT! I am a pathological liar too. I can suck down a bottle of Southern Comfort and breathe it all over you, then look you in the eye and swear I had not touched a drop. If I believed I was fooling you, then you must not smell it, right? ******************************************* I wanted to live the simple life. No more luxuries! I threw away my toothbrush and stopped using toilet paper. I picked up a few odd jobs here and there but they never lasted. I alway seemed to get accused of being high, drunk or dirty. I had a bad time keeping a place to live too. I guess I was unlucky that way. It's THEM though, not ME!!! I'm always around people who accuse me of stuff I was innocent of, like stealing from them, drinking, doing drugs or sitting in my room alone crying and talking to myself. Or sitting in my room alone, laughing and talking to myself. I can't tell you how many former roomates spread the vicious rumor that I infested thier homes with crab lice. I never had crabs! uh-uh, not me! Everyone lies about me! I got a job one time at a Gay Bath House. All I had to do was change dirty sheets, do laundry and pick up used rubbers. I got fired because they said I kept coming to work drunk and for starting fights with all my co-workers. I don't know why they thought that! I was too busy doing coke and having unprotected sex with the customers! Everyone lies about me! They're all against me! One guy, Chris, offered to let me rent a couple of freshly painted rooms in his house. I got kicked out of there because, uh, he said, I snuck a cat in, was pissing in bottles and dumping them out the front window, stole from him and infested his place with crabs. I got even with him. I stole , um, he said I stole a bunch of stuff and trashed his house when I left. I lived in Columbia TN with another total loser Marjorie Astrofsky. That didn't last too long tho.  In less than 3 months, at least a half dozen people wanted to kill me. I came crawling back to Providence Rhode Island. A little while later I thought I saw Chris' car and keyed it and smashed all the windows on it. As it turns out, it was the wrong car. Well, actually I, um, didn't do it... um, someone SAID I did it. Now there are some real dangerous people looking for me there too. ******************************************* I go to AA now, usually half in the bag. If someone asks me why my breath smells like booze, I tell them it's an herbal mouthwash. When it looks like they are getting too suspicious, I change the subject and make up some crazy stories to get them to feel sorry for me.... Like I got raped by some Colombian drug dealers. You know, something believable like that. I am a total spaz. I can't tell fantasy from reality. Everyone lies about me. No one understands me except Mommy. She's my special girl. |
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