Tore a Laura, Laura!

About the Book

The story opens with Jerry Barry explaining that he has bitten off some guy's penis. His explanation turns into a narration of his failed attempts to become a United States Marine. Several flashbacks reveal the cause of his present mental state. He is the product of an abusive father and a tormented childhood. He was sexually abused by an aunt, beaten routinely by his father, manipulated by his schoolmates and forced to witness his best friend, a dog named Sparky, killed right before his eyes. None of this seems to be out of the ordinary to him.

When he is kicked out of high school he joins the Marine Corps. The discipline proves too much for him to handle so he does what he always does: He blames everyone but himself. He is unable to do the required three pull-ups on the Physical Fitness Test, so he devises a scheme to cheat on the test. He just "...can't understand why a Marine would need to do goddamn pull-ups."

He is given numerous opportunities to get his act together, but his attitude always gets in the way. He claims not to be a racist though his speech is full of racial slurs. He blames his insistent cursing on an imagined disease he calls "Tourette's."

Throughout his story he berates the very thoughts he harbors. His sexual orientation is held under a defensive cloud in his mind.

Jerry Barry is a person we just can't bring ourselves to hate. We all wish people like him didn't exist, but they do. Perhaps understanding why they are that way will help us to help them.

For more information, please visit the author's website.

About the Author

Blah, blah, blah...and I was born in Brooklyn, New York on May 25, 1955. I am the product of an Irish Catholic family. I went to Catholic school until the eighth grade. I purposely failed the Catholic High School entrance exams so I could attend a public school. During my four years at Fort Hamilton High in Brooklyn, my only claim to fame was that I once played basketball with Bernard King. After high school I took a few jobs on Wall Street. I like to tell people that I was a high-powered broker, but they usually get suspicious when I can't tell them the difference between a stock and a bond. Most of my jobs were in back-offices. Then in 1985 I proudly took on the uniform of a US Postal Service Letter Carrier. I was "stationed" in Manhattan until October 1988, when I voluntarily transferred to Honolulu, HI. This is where my career took off. I went from a Level 5 Letter Carrier to a Level 4 Mail Handler in just three months. I was so good at it that I stayed there until 1995 when I once again leapt downward, this time to a Level 2 janitor. Alas, even that proved too difficult for me. I was forced to 'retire' in November of 2002. I now spend my days being manipulated by an 11-year-old Basset Hound/Labrador who is the only creature on the planet lazier than me, and...blah, blah, blah.