Punkzilla Read Online Free PDF Page B

have just turned the guest room into the place where I will eventually “expire,” but the study where I used to write has a daybed in it and you’ll be comfortable in there.
    Please give me a call and let me know if this is a possibility. The number is written in red marker on the inside of the envelope. I would love to spend some time with you before the inevitable.
    Do come if you can, Jamie.
    Love,
    Peter
    P.S. Yes, Jorge indeed keeps shaving his head, though I miss his curly hair, and Carlos is still alive and well, though he seems terribly bored by our lives as of late and spends a lot of time licking his paws, chasing an invisible, rather ingenious mouse, and staring out at nothing in particular.
    P.P.S. I’m enclosing a Xerox copy of your letter because, though it is brief, I was so impressed with your writing. Read it and you’ll see! And you’re one hell of a speller, too.

March 5, 2008
    Dear P,
    I’m sorry I had to stop writing yesterday. I was mad nauseous I really was. I didn’t puke but I kept feeling like I was going to. They turned all the lights off on the bus and I fell asleep and woke up with my face pressed against my window and I still have the chills but I do feel a little better and not so speedy. The sun’s starting to get pretty bright and there are more people on the bus. This one guy keeps turning around really fast and holding on to his hat like he thinks someone’s trying to steal it. His eyes are pretty wild so I think I’m going to have to watch him.
    I had a dream about Torris Stone who was my roommate at Buckner. He’s the one I stole the alarm clock from. In my dream Torris kept taking his arm off and putting it back on like not getting the fit right like it was something he bought at the hardware store that he had to return. I started to help him with needle and thread when I woke up. The bus window was really cold on my face and now my neck is killing me and I feel like the highway is some permanent movie I’m being forced to watch.
    Torris Stone was from Orlando Florida and he was the blackest kid I’ve ever seen and the strongest too. He had an identical twin brother named Terrace and when they’d talk on the phone Torris would call him Twin. He’d say “What’s up Twin you straight?” and “You got them pens I sent you?” He didn’t care that there was a bunch of new cadets waiting in line for the phone. Torris liked to send Terrace pens and spiral notebooks and all this other cadet store stuff that had the Buckner crest on it. He did a lot of smiling and whispering during those phone calls too and I have to be honest P him and Terrace seemed more like boyfriends than brothers and I mean gay like you and Jorge or maybe like Elton John and George Michael.
    Torris could do more push-ups than anyone in Alpha Company and he always prayed before he fell asleep and he prayed before meals too and when I asked him why he prayed so much he said it was because someday he wanted to live in a nice house with a swimming pool and have a Sony flat-screen TV. Once right before taps I asked him if he really thought praying was going to get him a house and a pool and a flat-screen TV and he said “Ain’t nothin’ else gonna get me that.” Everyone in Alpha Company thought he was crazy.
    But I left Buckner and all those military freaks running the place. They weren’t going to give me my stripes before Christmas break anyway. The way it works is that all New Boys are supposed to get their stripes at the end of the first semester but I knew I was doomed to be a Recruit all year Yes-sirring and No-sirring and trying to force myself to kiss everyone’s ass. I sucked bad at the military stuff P like REAL bad especially at rifle drill. There’s this thing called Fifteen Count Manual Arms that involves fifteen different moves with this huge-ass World War I Winchester rifle and I could only do about seven of the moves right because it was so heavy. I was always lagging behind my squad