Monday, February 4th marked the eighteenth birthday of Douglas Patrick Perkins Esquire. Now you may be saying to yourself, "Who the hell is this fine mannered young man who is now of legal age to buy tobacco products and pornography (or one of the many sultry combinations of the two)?" Or you may be saying, "Ah, fuckin' Jimmy North's brother, I know that kid." But, most likely you are saying "Jesus Christ, that kid's a fuckin' fag. I heard he gives good rimjobs though." But it doesn't really matter what you're saying, unless you have voice recognition software, in which case Word probably just opened up and tried to help you type a letter. Anyway, kick back with a cold one and get ready to enjoy my tribute to my best friend and future NAMBLA man of the year, Doug Perkins.

This is Doug (right) and I (left) when he used to be bigger than me. He was always jealous of me so he stole my things.

Doug was born to parents Derek & Stephanie Perkins on the otherwise wonderful morning of February 4th, 1984. Now, Doug's dad is a pretty righteous fellow, he can pretty much do anything, from cutting down mighty oaks to being an awesome painter to running a restaurant, he's a true jack of all trades. Doug's mom is also a well adjusted human being, she might not have the all purpose utility value of his dad, but we can't really hold that against her. How Doug managed to come out of the union of the two is really beyond me, must've had something to do with recessive genes. I'm not really too sure of what happened for a few months after Doug's birth, I wasn't around yet, and he doesn't really remember, so through the miracle of the written word we'll just time warp to Doug at about 5 months old.

This is a pic of me. I'm sure you can see why he was jealous.

This is when the most important event of his life, hell, the most important event ever, took place: I was born. Early in the morning of June 28th, I emerged into this world like a ray of sunlight piercing so many grey clouds. Actually, it was probably a lot more violent than that because from what my mom tells me she broke the stirrups on her hostpital bed when I was being delivered. Man, I wanted to get the hell out of... Oh wait, this is supposed to be about Doug, my bad.

Anyway, Doug and I have been friends ever since. We grew up together on Eaton's Neck (aka Hell), although Doug does not live there anymore. We did fun things like build snow forts, think of ways to get off the Neck, and generally tried to stick it to the man every way we could. Before Kindergarten, Doug moved out to Mattituck (it's way out east), or as I like to call it, "the land of fables, tall tales, stories, and bullshit". Doug (or Dougie as we called him in those days) lived out there for a few years and developed an insatiatiable for being social that he still carries with him. I saw doug only sporadically during those years he lived out in Mattituck, but when he did visit we'd cause havok. During one visit we built a walled city on the beach made out of drift wood and trash that had washed up on the shore. We used tampon applicators for the cannons to defend the populous, and I think we even found a way to use the hypodermic needles and used condoms we found (ah... the crystal clear waters of the Long Island Sound combined with one part imagination and two parts blissful ignorance).

Doug likes Fresca. He is the leader of the Fresca revolution.

Dougie moved back to Northport shortly before third grade began with all kinds of stories about how much better Mattituck was than Northport and how popular he was over there, etc, etc. He even had a georgeous girl who was hot for him, named Renee Kelly. Even at my young age, I knew it was pure bullshit, but he maintained the illusion. Only in recent years has Doug admitted that Mattituck was a hellhole hick town, no one liked him, and Renee was a heffer who had 2 kids by the age of 14. Or maybe he hasn't, either way, that's the truth. Doug got into GT (Gifted & Talented aka Garbage Truck) with me and the rest of my nerd cronies and came up with a lot of good wordy gurdy's that I stole and claimed for myself (Ha!). Doug always seemed to be a bit of an outcast during those years after he came back. Perhaps it was because to most kids he was new, or perhaps it was because he was a douchebag, but I'd favor the latter. When Doug pissed me off, or if I was feeling insecure and needed to feel better about myself by putting him down, I'd spray Binacca into his eyes for kicks. Such is the nature with any longstanding friendship, there are always some rough areas (who am I kidding, I was just an asshole).

This is Doug when he used to be fat. Everyone agrees, he was a lot cooler then.

I'm sure most of you remember, but during late elementary school years at Norwood Ave. school every red blooded male was into hockey, Doug being no exception. Collecting cards, playing street hockey, and even burrowing holes in goalie pads so he could fuck them raw, Doug was into hockey. He had a stick called the Mylec Eclipse, which he must have used straight for 2 years. The thing looked like a dead banana, and the ball would roll over the top of it half the time because it was so worn down, but this was Doug's stick, and it was the only one he used (still has it I think). Unlike anything else he did at the time, Doug was actually pretty good at hockey, enough to the point where he'd frustrate the hell out of the kids who were a year older than us during the Eaton's Neck classic games. Jason Schmerer (got me on the spelling) actually physically attacked Dougie once during a game, it was a sight to see.

And so we move less far into the past and arrive at Middle School. The years of sixth through eighth grade were not good years for Dougie from what I remember. He was fat and got all kinds of shit for it. People would smack him with books, piss in his soup, and just generally be mean to him. His obsession with Tommy Hilfiger the fact that he wore green pants every day (I think he had about 20 pairs, give or take 18) didn't help the situation. Even though Doug was a social outcast in middle school, he was fun to hang out with, and as anyone who hung out with him then knows, was a hell of a lot cooler than he is now. Eventually Doug will get fat again, and then hopefully he will return to being cool. Anyway, Doug used this shitty period as motivation for his forthcoming metamorphasis which I'm gonna relay shortly.

High School came around and for the most part it was more of the same for Doug. A "winning" personality trapped behind a hideous guise. Doug seemed determined though. His mother and brother before him had both been fat and then slimmed down and went onto popularity in high school, and so he was sure this was going to happen for him. No one really belived him, myself included. During this time of planning for world domination, Doug developed his artistic skills, shown here:

Doug's Art (circa 2000)
Terrorist Doug's prediction, perhaps even more relevant than Nostradomus'.	Super Catholic Never bowing to convention, Doug has been leading post-industrial impressionism into bold new territory.
Self Portrait Doug didn't have any self portraits so I made one for him.	Jerome The only thing Doug loved more than Jerome Shor was his archaic teaching style.

I don't have any recent pictures of Doug, so this'll have to do.

The future Picasso took some time out of his busy schedule in the summer before 10th grade to lose a lot of weight and get muscular. Before I go any further, I just have to make sure you all know how much Doug loves himself. He is one of the most narcacistic, vein people I know, flat out. I'm pretty sure he would have gone through the trouble of lifting weights every day and not eating just so he could look at himself in the mirror. In addition to being able to look at himself, Doug also enjoyed the other benefits of good looks and and unrestricted dopeamine flow in his gray matter, namely popularity and little girls. Doug is now friends with a lot of people who would have as soon as spit on him as looked at him before he lost the weight, which is cool, I guess. A lot of people who know him now either don't know that he used to be fat, or don't associate the old Doug with the new Doug, which is kind of sad, because the new Doug is shit. Doug also has a fanclub of little girls that became obsessed with him during his and my tenure at the Northport Movie Theater during the summer of 2001. He says they annoy him, but he likes the attention (and the pre-teen pussy). In addition to his groupies, Doug now has a girlfriend who regularly supplies him with sexual favors and a way to spend all his money. We'll have to see what the future holds for him, let's just hope it's excrutiatingly painful (and televised).

I probably left out a lot and got a lot wrong (both intentionally and unintentionally) as I'm sure Doug will attest to, but I don't really care. And no, I'm not gay for him, this is just the cheapest birthday present I could think of. Anway, happy birthday Dooglas.