aries: whats worse than finding a worm in your apple? the holocaust taurus: adolf hipster gemini: its nein in the afternoon. your eyes are the size of the jews. cancer: what did the german say when he pushed his brother off a cliff? look mom, no Hans! leo: doctor doctor, give me the news. ive got a bad case of killin jews virgo: why did hitler kill himself? he opened the gas bill libra: dont jewish your boyfriend was hot like me scorpio: why wasnt hitler invited to the bbq? he kept burning all the franks sagittarius: hitler was a great cook. he made 6 million jews toast. capricorn: three jews walked into a bar. jk im lying it was a gas chamber. aquarius: what did the jewish orphan with no legs get for hanukkah? gassed pisces: adelef hitler. someone like jew.
Basically, what the internet was like for roughly my first ten years on it was pretty much how people now view the worse extremes of places like 8chan or redpill, only that was everywhere, all the time, and any dissenting opinion on it was like a death wish.
Everyone either rattled off racial slurs and ridiculed people with disabilities or they had to keep their mouths shut, because showing anything remotely resembling sensitivity to a subject made you an instant target, and consensus was you should have known better because “it’s the internet.”
You got flooded with holocaust jokes? “It’s the internet!” You got sent dick pics after showing a photo of yourself? “It’s the internet!”
To be caught “taking anything seriously” was like a thought-crime. You couldn’t go against the cult of TeH ePiC L0LZ or the hive mind would mark you for execution. It was weird as shit.
This only really started to collapse after about 2005, so if you’re still in your teens you’re not that likely to remember how extreme it was. Maybe you think you do, but trust me, it was the unbreakable status quo wherever you turned. The cultural landscape of the internet now is almost unrecognizable.
aries - getting so angry you pop a boner taurus - home video of oprah sobbing into a lean cuisine gemini - poorly-timed holocaust jokes cancer - waking up half naked in a dennys parking lot leo - getting drunk on mouthwash virgo - stephen hawking talking dirty libra - bees? scorpio - picking up girls at an abortion clinic sagittarius - pac-man uncontrollably guzzling cum capricorn - actually taking candy from a baby aquarius - jerking off into a pool of children’s tears pisces - a super soaker full of cat pee
This is a poem for the nice Jewish girl
You are taught three things that you cannot even remember learning you have known them so long
1)your nose is ugly
2)you should be on your best behavior at family parties as you represent your family
3)there was a war to kill everyone like you a long time before you were born
These things inform everything you do for example
1)if someone tells you you don’t look Jewish you must take it as a compliment
2)you are naturally shyer and more socially conscious
3)you have constant nightmares of that war for the rest of your life
The nice Jewish girl goes to Hebrew school at age five or six and learns her aleph bet
The nice Jewish girl is happy to tell her friends what Hanukkah is and why we don’t have school so much in September and how to pronounce “challah”
The nice Jewish girl lights the shabbos candles every friday night and says words in a language she barely understands
The nice Jewish girl is pretty, pretty in a way that her grandma pinches her cheeks and calls her a “shayna maidel”
The nice Jewish girl is not sexy and she is meant to laugh and privately call the girls who wear too much eyeliner to the bat mitzvahs “sluts”
The nice Jewish girl feels stuck between the secular world and the religious world but she doesn’t ever say that
The nice Jewish girl hates going to Hebrew School though she’d never make a fuss but moans about it to her goyische friends at school
The nice Jewish girl smiles politely when asked her opinion on Israel and changes the subject
The nice Jewish girl has pennies dropped around her in all of seventh grade by some kid claiming to be her friend and all she does is stand there with her mouth gaping open when he reveals this was his “Jew test”
The nice Jewish girl picks up none of the pennies and passes his test as triumphantly as possible
The nice Jewish girl doesn’t tell anyone that they’re always yelling at home and she never feels good enough and the walls are too small in her tiny brooklyn house and she just wants them all to stop
The nice Jewish girl always has her curly hair and her big nose even when it’s inconvenient because no amount of hair straighteners and brushing and makeup can make them go away
The nice Jewish girl sits in the corner, flicking through her iphone, as the music’s too loud and the lights too bright for her to enjoy the bar or bat mitzvah she’s been dragged to
The nice Jewish girl feels like she knows no one and nobody knows her
The nice Jewish stiffens when a holocaust joke is made but says nothing
She goes into the bathroom later to cry and feels like she may throw up
The nice Jewish girl does not throw up
When a friend makes a comment about how the Jews ruined Germany’s economy and that’s why Hitler came after them and the nice Jewish girl wants to SCREAM
She straightens her spine and lifts her chin and politely corrects her with the grace of Esther or Ruth
The nice Jewish girl’s friend does not understand and contradicts her and she wants to tear her own skin off and feels her forehead heating up and pins pricking her
The nice Jewish girl is every untold story in a mass grave from France to Italy to Germany and Poland
The nice Jewish girl isn’t special, she isn’t a phoenix waiting to rise from the ashes, she will not transform into someone cool or beautiful
The nice Jewish girl will always be awkward and shy and mediocre
The nice Jewish girl will simply have to live with herself
The nice Jewish girl lives and dies a normal life making charoset and speaking out only at meetings at the local Jewish Center and works some nice liberal arts job
The nice Jewish girl will marry a nice Jewish boy and hug her children tight with fear
The nice Jewish girl will shake every time she turns on the news and hears they are chanting “gas the Jews” in France
The nice Jewish girl will pass this pain onto her daughter and the nice Jewish girl’s daughter will be just like her
The nice Jewish girl will hate herself and hate her own hate
The nice Jewish girl is me
The nice Jewish girl is you
The nice Jewish girl never existed in the first place
This is gonna piss somebody off but it’s my blog and I get to post opinions.
Let me preface this by saying I am a Jewish lesbian. Okay:
If you are NOT Jewish or Romani, then honestly I don’t trust you when you make nazi jokes, shoah (holocaust) jokes, giving “ironic” nazi salutes, that kind of bullshit.
“Oh but I’m LGBT, I would have been in danger too! I’m coping!” Tough shit, being LGBT is not an inherited trait like being ethnically Jewish or Roma is, and your “coping” is disrespectful. Find a better way to cope.
I don’t deny LGBT persecution in the shoah, of course it happened and was awful. I still don’t think it gives every LGBT gadje/gentile an excuse for antisemitism and anti romani racism. Those aren’t your jokes to make.
If you as a gentile LGBT person due a fucking heil in front of me? I will not laugh with you, I will freeze in fear. It’s not cute.
I think it wasn’t Mel Brooks’s place to make all the gay jokes he did, him being a straight man, but I DO think it was his place to brilliantly satire nazis, him being a Jewish man. Can you see where I’m coming from?
Yeah at first I too used to think they were hilarious. Then I sat down and thought about it. Here I am sitting and enjoying my adolescence care free feeling relatively safe and secure and not worrying about my basic needs.
Whereas anyone who was in a concentration camp or POW camp or transport camp didn’t have the luxury to make stupid edgy jokes because oh right they were rounded up and dehumanized against their will.
So the next time you feel like being edgy, be it irl or in cards against humanity, or even the next time you have the audacity to tell a Jewish person, neigh a survivors grandchild a “cool fun edgy holocaust joke” think about whose memory you’re laughing at.
The MILLIONS of Jews and goyim alike who didn’t have the choice to be a punchline, whose deaths are worth a momentary laugh to you.
May their memory be a blessing everyday and on this Yom ha Shoah
hey since tumblr is supposedly all about hating nazis and historical accuracy how come i havent seen a single post about the rape of nanking? did you know that for every 200 posts detailing the holocaust, there is not a single one about the rape of nanking? what the fuck. the japanese facists systematically murdered and raped chinese people and no one is talking about it?
did yall think the japanese facists from ww2 were somehow, i don’t know, better than the nazis??? did you forget that innocent chinese citizens were systematically murdered?? did you forget that they went door to door and raped young girls?? did you forget that to this day, most of japan denies this ever happened??
it’s called WORLD war II, not fucking European War 200. i heard a white guy fucking making jokes about it. right in front of me, a chinese person. if someone made a holocaust joke in front of a jewish person, they would probably get shit, but??? for some reason no one fucking decked him when he made a joke about the rape of nanking. hmm i wonder why
everyone please reblog this im so fucking tired of my history being ignored
I’ll never forget the day I woke up to swatstikas covering my local community center
I’ll never forget the time where my local holocaust memorial was shattered twice in one summer.
I’ll never forget the swatstika in my school gym, the drawings of Jews burning in an oven in the school bathrooms, the cruel holocaust jokes thrown at me daily.
I’ll never forget what it’s like being the jewish kid in class, at work, and in life.
And I’ll never forget the day the Nazis marched in MY state.
But you know what else I’ll never forget?
I’ll never forget how many people showed up to protest them. I’ll never forget that when the “alt right” came for MY city Boston stood together and made it clear that they weren’t accepted there, that our love will always outnumber their hate.
Keep defying their hate with your love, because we are stronger united than they will ever be.
In my experience as a Jew, I learned simultaneously that the holocaust and other great calamities and forms of oppression our people have suffered are very serious, and that few people take them seriously. That being said, I’ve spent a lot of years internalizing the antisemitism I experienced from my peers as a child and regurgitating it in an attempt to de-other myself, connect with goyim and at times avoid conflict. It’s really hard becoming an adult and realizing that you shouldn’t have said what you did, that you have normalized a form of abuse against your own people and most of all that it would be very difficult to walk it all back now and reclaim your sensitivity and reverence for your heritage and history. I feel that I should not be responsible for what my peers say. That I should be able to make jokes and comments about certain aspects of Judaism and Jewishness without worrying about goyim repeating them. I feel that there was a lot of pressure on me to participate in the desecration of my own culture and history and that I am not wholly responsible for the way I responded. I feel that the onus is on the goyim to be respectful and sensitive and understand that I may say some things that they should not say. At the same time I’ve behaved this way knowing full well that the result would be the perpetuation of antisemitic speech/behavior. I have ignored the fact that people judge your comfort level with certain speech and subjects based off of the things you say in front of them and that it is not too terrible of a leap for them to assume that they can repeat them without causing offense. I know that throughout the years I have justified my speech by placing the blame on other people for reacting the way I expected they would. I have spent a lot of time absolving myself of responsibility by blaming the ignorance of others. I carry a lot of guilt for that. Now I am in a situation where my closest friends feel comfortable saying things to me, about me, or about my people that I find disgusting and offensive. Now I have to think about how I draw those lines again and begin the messy undertaking of expressing my feelings about this speech. I feel sad for what I’ve done. I feel sad for what I have to do. I feel sad for what I’ve been through. I feel sad for what I may have caused others to go through and I feel deeply sad about the impressions that I’ve left on other people.
I would love to hear somebody else’s thoughts about this, what they have experienced or how they navigate this issue.
I hate living in a world where there is so much racial discrimination. In school, the majority of the people are catholic and a very very small percentage are Jewish. My mom told me that when I go to college there are gonna be people there who have never a Jewish person. We went to this one organization and they told us there was so much anti-semitism on campus. People in my school make holocaust jokes to me and my friends without acknowledging the fact that we’re Jewish. Although i go to a school and live in a town where nobody really understands my religion and what I believe in, I’m so proud and love my religion and have made so many friends through my community. I’m joining a Jewish sorority in college and can’t wait to become more involved in my religion!
Uris moves to Derry, Maine following the death of his father and gets a job
babysitting a little boy named Georgie who just so happens to have a very
attractive older brother. (Modern High School AU)
Mention of death, depression (not a major theme), anti-Semitism, struggles with
Sometimes, Stanley Uris didn’t know what was up and what
was down. Sometimes, it felt like the world was moving but he was stuck in the
same position, day after day. And it sucked. His mother thought that a new
start would be good for them, that it would help them move on.
Stan wanted to scream. He wanted to call bullshit on her
logic. It wasn’t that he didn’t mind moving. He wasn’t exactly popular back at his
old high school in Bangor (once upon a time, his father had asked him
if it was because of them being Jewish – but it wasn’t an anti-Semitic thing,
aside from the occasional, always unfunny, holocaust joke, it was more so the
depression thing and the OCD thing and the gay thing that drove people away) so it wasn’t like he was going to
be all that missed. Even his Jewish friends didn’t seem like they were gonna
miss him that much. And it bothered Stan how little he cared about it.
But after his dad died, everything just seemed so… pointless. His father, a man who had
never smoked a day in his life, ended up dying of lung cancer. It made Stan
furious. At the world. At God. At everything.
After watching his father shrivel up into a shell of what he had once been,
Stan’s already complicated relationship with religion had turned sour. It
infuriated him that his father could be dying and still praising that almighty
presence above. Stan wasn’t even sure if he believed anymore.
“Stanley,” his mother’s voice called. “Come on, you’re
going to be late!”
Gulping, Stan gave himself a once over and straightened the
collar of his shirt before grabbing his backpack. As he left his room and shut
the door, he found himself cringing. So, he went back, turned the bedroom light
on and then off before shutting his door. Stan repeated that three more times
before he was satisfied. It made him feel sick, wrong.
“I think you should start going back to therapy,” his
mother told him on the ride to school.
“No arguments, Stanley,” she said, her voice sharp like the
cracking of a whip. “I know you, I know my son. You’re not okay, sweetheart.
All I want is for you to be happy. I don’t want to send you off to college in
two years with you…”
She trailed off and sighed. Stan could tell that if she
hadn’t been driving she would’ve pressed a small kiss to the top of his
forehead and hugged him tightly. Stan licked his lips and closed his eyes. He hated how unhappy his mother was. He despised that part of it was caused by
“I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” Andrea Uris said, looking at
her pale, skinny son.
“Yeah,” Stan agreed, nodding.
“We can talk about you getting that job. How’s that sound?”
Stan smiled at that. Since his freshman year of high
school, he had been begging for a job. He liked the idea of working – the
responsibility, the experience, the money that he could save up to buy all the
books he’d ever want to read. Stan just really wanted a job. He wanted
something to do with his life.
And he also needed to start saving up for college. His
father had been a Rabbi and his mother was a kindergarten teacher, so it wasn’t
like there was a lot of money in either of those professions. If he didn’t want
to leave college with an obscene amount of debt, Stan would have to save money
while working his ass off for good grade.
“Hi, I’m Stan Uris,” Stan said in a quiet voice to the lady
sitting at the receptionist desk.
“Oh, the new
boy!” the receptionist said in a too-loud, too-cheerful voice.
Stan winced a little and smiled.
“Here’s your schedule, and your student guide will be down
any minute to take you around!”
The receptionist had an odd accent that Stan wasn’t very
fond of, and when she snapped her gum he thought his head might explode.
A minute later, a very clean cut looking black boy with
broad shoulders, short hair, and a wide smile walked into the office.
“Hey, you must be Stan,” he said, walking straight over to
Stan and offering his hand to shake. “I’m Mike.”
“Hi,” Stan said, shaking Mike’s hand. “It’s nice to meet
As it turned out, Stan and Mike had all the same classes
which was why Mike was chosen to give Stan the school tour. Within five
minutes, Stan had decided that he liked Mike a lot. Mike was soft spoken,
intelligent, and kind. He might have looked like all the football players at
Stan’s old school that gave him hell for being gay, but Mike was nothing like
So, maybe Derry wouldn’t be that bad.
At lunch, Mike led Stan past the table filled with boys
wearing the same kind of jacket as Mike and towards a different table in the
corner of the room. At that table sat a very pretty girl with freckles
spattered across every bit of visible skin and short cropped red hair. Beside
her was a broad boy with dark blonde hair and a shy smile. Another boy sat across
from them, lanky and thinly muscled with thick glasses and rather gorgeous dark
hair. His arm was slung around the shoulders of a shorter boy with neatly
combed chocolate curls. It was a ragtag bunch, but as they greeted Mike with
wide smiles Stan could tell that they all loved each other a lot.
“Hey guys,” Mike said, sitting down and gesturing at the
empty chair for Stan. “This is Stan, he’s new. Stan, this is Bev, Ben, Eddie,
and Richie— where’s Bill?”
“Out sick,” Richie, the boy with glasses, snorted, ducking
his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck.
Richie’s body convulsed with laughter Stan didn’t really
understand. He stayed silent and began unpacking his lunch.
“What did you do to him?” Mike sighed, looking towards Bev.
“Hey, he agreed to drink with us,” Bev said defensively.
“They’re ridiculous,” Mike murmured to Stan, drawing a
small smile from the new boy. “Don’t hold them against me?”
“So, I found a job for you,” Andrea told Stan that night
after setting out dinner.
“Yeah?” Stan asked.
He held his breath for a moment, unsure if he was willing
to trust his mother’s judgement on this.
“Yes. A woman named Sharon at my work was saying how she
needs a babysitter for her son Georgie on Thursdays and Fridays,” Andrea said,
stabbing her fork into her salad.
“Babysitting?” Stan asked, trying his best to hide his
annoyance. “Mom. I don’t want to babysit.”
“It’s fifteen dollars an hour, Stanley,” Andrea said.
“Sharon said it would be for at least five hours each night, so that’s at least
a hundred and fifty dollars every week.”
Stan quickly did the math. If he kept fifty dollars every
week for himself (though, he didn’t have friends or much of a
social life so why would he really need fifty dollars a week to do things?
Well, Mike and his friends had been welcoming enough… maybe he’d finally have
some friends…) he could put
away a hundred bucks each week. If he kept that consistent for two years (and
who knew what this kid’s parents would need over school breaks and the summer
) Stan could have a significant amount of money saved when he needed to get to
Suddenly, babysitting didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
“So, when do I start?” Stan asked.
Andrea beamed at her son.
“I have her number written down. You can call her after
dinner and ask.”
As it turned out, Sharon Denbrough needed Stan to start
ASAP. And tomorrow was Friday, meaning that Stan would be babysitting
ten-year-old Georgie from 5:00 to 11:00.
When Stan shuffled into school, head down, he went straight
to his locker. The girl to his left and her friends shot him a weird look,
though Stan wasn’t all that sure why. He wasn’t that weird looking.
“Stan!” Mike’s voice boomed cheerfully.
Stan looked up and smiled at the approaching boy. Mike was
walking with Ben and a boy Stan didn’t meet yesterday. But, boy, did he wish he had. The stranger
was tall (probably a little over six-feet, which definitely didn’t make Stan a
little weak in the knees — no siree!)
and had light brown hair combed and styled very neatly. And his eyes—they were the bluest blue Stan had
“Hi Mike, Ben,” Stan said in his typical quiet fashion,
quickly glancing at the other boy before shifting his eyes down to the textbook
in his arms.
“Stan, this is Bill. He was sick yesterday,” Ben said.
“Richie mentioned you and Bill was anxious to meet the new kid on the block.”
Both Bill and Mike snorted quietly as Ben’s mouth lifted
into a small smirk. Stan didn’t get the joke.
“It’s nice to meet you, Stan,” Bill said.
His words were slow and deliberate, and Stan really liked
“You too, Bill,” Stan replied, hoping that he wasn’t
If he was, no one said anything.
At lunch time, Richie clapped Stan on the shoulder and
loudly proclaimed that his algebra teacher was a homophobic piece of shit.
“Why is he homophobic, Rich?” Bev asked, smirking at the
“He told me I would never accomplish anything in life and
is making me serve detention on Monday! This is gay oppression!” Richie
Stan chuckled quietly.
“So, Stan, do you want to see Kingsman with us tonight?”
Stan’s heart bloomed within his chest, filling him with a
warmness he had never felt before. He sighed, silently cursing his need for a
“I can’t,” Stan said, scratching behind his ear. “I have to
The rest of the group shut up about the movies after that.
Stan realized that they were doing it for him—so he wouldn’t feel bad about
missing out. The thought made him smile.
As a matter of fact, he was still smiling about it as he
walked to Georgie Denbrough’s house.
“You must be Stan,” a tall, handsome man said with a warm
smile as he opened the door. “It’s nice to meet you, son. I’m Zack Denbrough,
“It’s nice to meet you as well, sir,” Stan said politely,
shaking his hand.
“Georgie!” Zack yelled up the stairs. “Come down, please!”
Seconds later, a small boy was sprinting down the stairs
with a manic smile on his face, laughing as a tall, slightly muscled, shirtless boy (Georgie’s brother, Stan
assumed) chased after him. Stan
froze when he saw that the boy was Bill
“Georgie, g-give me my sh-shirt!” Bill yelled.
Georgie was laughing still, loudly. The laughter was
echoing around the house. Georgie and Bill sprinted past Stan without sparing
him a second glance. A moment later, there was a loud scream followed by
laughter as Bill, while laughing, called Georgie a twerp.
“My sons are rather… hyperactive,” Zack told Stan with an
apologetic glance. “Once Bill leaves, Georgie will calm down, though. The two
rile each other up.”
Stan swallowed thickly and nodded. His throat felt very
dry, and his hands were beginning to itch. Slowly and deliberately, he dragged
his blunt nails up and down the material of jeans that covered the outside of
“Georgie, come meet your babysitter,” Zack said, walking
out of the entrance hall and into the kitchen. “And, Bill, for God’s sake, put
on a shirt.”
After a second’s deliberation when Stan seriously
considered booking it out of the Denbrough house, he made his way into the
kitchen. He caught Bill’s eyes and gulped.
“Stan! Hey!” Bill exclaimed happily, pulling a black
t-shirt over his head. “When you said you had to babysit, I didn’t realize you’d
be babysitting Georgie. I thought you had a younger brother or sister.”
“No,” Stan said, shaking his head and trying to remember not to stare at Bill. “I’m an only
“Ooh, I wish,”
Bill chuckled, sticking his tongue out at Georgie who reciprocated the motion.
Stan laughed dryly.
It wasn’t long before Zack and Sharon left for their date
night, letting Stan know that they left forty dollars on the counter for him to
order food and that he was welcome to keep the change. Bill was still there
when his parents left.
While Georgie was showering, Stan took his opportunity to
talk to Bill.
“So, uh, why aren’t you
babysitting your brother?” Stan asked.
‘Really, Stan?’ he
thought to himself. ‘What a stupid
Bill’s face went a little pink and he began to rub the back
of his neck.
“Yeah, I’m not really allowed to do that anymore,” Bill
said, his words paired with an awkward laugh. “Last time I babysat Georgie, it
was pouring r-ruh-rain and I let him go outside, and he ended up getting wicked sick. My p—parents were really
angry with me.”
Stan hadn’t noticed Bill’s stutter earlier. He didn’t say
anything about it, though. Instead, he merely smiled a little.
“Well, if I’m ever babysitting Georgie and it rains, I’ll
make sure not to let him go out.”
Bill threw his head back and laughed loudly. As his
laughter died down, he bumped his shoulder softly against Stan’s and bit down
on his lip. Yet again, Stan was gulping
because of Bill Denbrough.
“I should get going,” Bill said, a look of regret crossing
over his face. He stood up and patted Stan on the shoulder, but his hand
lingered for a moment. “I’ll catch you later, Stan. I’ll probably be home
before my parents.”
Georgie was a cute kid, and very sweet. He made a lot of
meme jokes, which he told Stan he had learned from Richie. One time this past
summer, Georgie told Stan, he ran into Bill’s room and dabbed with two fidget spinners
in his hands. When Bill found out that Richie had been the one to tell Georgie
to do it, Bill didn’t speak to Richie for a day and blocked him on all forms of
At 9:00, Stan had to put Georgie to bed. After that, he had
two hours to spare before he got to leave. And considering he was in someone
else’s home, he had no idea what to do. So, he just grabbed a book from his bag
and sat down in their living room to read.
Bill came home at 9:30, and when he saw Stan curled up on
his couch reading a book on birds (of all things ), he couldn’t help but
laugh a little.
“What?” Stan asked, a little defensively.
“Nothing,” Bill assured him, sitting down next to him on
the couch. “It’s just— well, a book on birds?”
“I happen to like birds,” Stan said, eyes narrowed. “They’re
“Yeah? How so?” Bill asked, genuinely curious.
And so, for the next hour and a half, Stan talked to Bill
about all different kinds of birds and the best places in Maine to go bird
watching. And Bill seemed really interested too, he was asking questions and
just looked completely earnest. By the time Sharon and Zack came back home,
Stan hadn’t even realized that it was 11:00.
“I noticed you didn’t drive here,” Bill said, sneaking up
on Stan as he put his coat and shoes on. “D-do you want me to drive you h-h-home?”
Stan almost protested, but he was feeling selfish. He wanted
to spend more time with Bill, even if it was only for a ten-minute car ride.
“Thanks, Bill,” Stan murmured once Bill pulled into his
driveway. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“Wait,” Bill exclaimed, grabbing Stan’s wrist. “Give me
Bill wiggled his phone in front of Stan’s face, blue eyes
wide. Stan thought his face was going to split in two from how big his smile
was. Eagerly (maybe a little too eagerly, but Stan didn’t know much about this kind
of thing), Stan punched his
number into Bill’s phone. If he was a more confident kid, he might have put
some kind of witty, suggestive emoji next to his contact name… but Stan wasn’t like
“So, who’s the boy?” Andrea asked with a coy smirk on her
face, watching as her blushing son stumbled his way backwards into the house, waving goodbye to the boy who was sitting
in his car.
“There— there’s no boy. What are you talking about?” Stan
Andrea rolled her eyes.
“Stan, I’m your mother. You’re supposed to tell me these things.”
Stan sighed and relented, rolling his eyes.
“His name’s Bill,” Stan said.
“Do you like him?”
“I met him this morning, Mom!”
“Okay. So, what?”
Stan groaned, rubbing his eyes.
“He’s Georgie’s older brother and offered to drive me home
because I don’t have a car. That’s all.”
Andrea hummed suspiciously, but didn’t press Stan further.
“My brother thinks you’re hot.”
Georgie’s statement was so bluntly presented that Stan
choked on the slice of pizza he was eating.
“I heard him talking with Bev and Mike about it the other
day,” Georgie added, grinning at Stan.
“Oh,” Stan said in a high, uneven voice. “That’s nice.”
“Do you think he’s hot?”
Stan’s face was burning.
“What?” Georgie asked, putting on his best angel face.
“I’m not talking about your brother with you,” Stan
snorted. “And you’re ten, which is just— no.”
“I’m gonna be eleven next month,” Georgie whined.
Stan wasn’t amused.
“Eat your pizza, Georgie.”
“Do you think he’s hot yet?”
“Georgie, you need to go to bed!” Stan exclaimed, trying
his best not to laugh at Georgie’s persistence.
All night, he had been pestering Stan about his thoughts on
Bill. Like, yeah, Stan thought Bill
was hot. But he wasn’t about to tell Georgie that. If he said anything, Georgie would definitely repeat it back to Bill (Stan
wasn’t ignorant to Georgie’s hero-worship of his brother) and then Bill would think Stan was
weird. Though, Georgie did say that Bill thought he was hot.
“Did he really say— agh!
Never mind! Go to bed!”
Stan seriously considered throwing himself in front of a
bus then and there. Was he seriously just about to ask a ten-year old about
Bill arrived home not long after that, grinning. Georgie
shut his mouth about Stan finding Bill hot.
Three weeks after Georgie asked Stan if he thought Bill was
hot, Stan had the weekend off. Bill’s parents were going away for a few nights
for their anniversary and Georgie was going to stay with Sharon’s sister in the
next town over. That meant Bill had the house to himself.
If Bill was a different kid, he would’ve been instantly
sending out invites to a party. But Bill was Bill, and he wasn’t like that. Instead,
he invited Stan over for a movie night.
Andrea drove Stan over to Bill’s house and quickly lectured
Stan on practicing safe sex. Stan wanted to die.
“Mom! Holy, crap!” Stan exclaimed, his face beet red. “It’s
not— we’re not— no! Anyways, the rest
of our friends are gonna be there!”
The rest of their friends (‘The Losers Club’ they were
often referred to by a senior named Henry Bowers and his gang of asshole
friends, but Stan didn’t pay them much attention) were, in fact, not
“I didn’t realize it would be just us,” Stan muttered,
glancing around Bill’s dark house.
“Oh,” Bill said, rubbing his neck. “I didn’t— are you
“No,” Stan said, smiling. “I just thought— you know what?
It’s not important.”
Bill smiled that breathtaking smile of his and Stan found himself
wishing for a puff of Eddie’s inhaler.
“Richie was saying I should throw a party this weekend,”
Bill snorted. “And Bev was saying we should utilize my empty house and my
father’s never ending liquor supply and get drunk.”
Stan didn’t think that sounded too awful. Well, the getting
drunk part at least… so long it was only their group of seven. He wouldn’t want
other people around. Just the seven of them… ‘the lucky seven’ had Mike called them a couple weeks ago. The
thought made Stan smile a bit.
“Would getting drunk be that bad?” Stan asked Bill, a smile
on his face.
“Not if it was just the two of us,” Bill replied easily in
his slow deliberate voice.
The voice that made Stan’s knees go weak and stomach tie in
it was just the two of us… Stan flushed a deep red.
“So, I ordered us pizza,” Bill said, gesturing to a box on
the table. “Normally I go with pepperoni or barbeque chicken, but I know it’s
not kosher for Jewish people to eat pig or meat and cheese — that’s the right
word, right? Kosher?”
Stan had barely thought about his faith in months. It had
seemed so insignificant, so unreal for him after his dad died. And when it came
to eating kosher— well, that had been the way he lived his life for the past
sixteen years so he never even really thought about it. But Bill had thought about it.
Stan suddenly felt the urge to kiss Bill, but he had enough
will power to stop himself.
“Is regular cheese fine?”
Bill was being so casual, acting as if nothing was wrong.
Well, not that anything was wrong…
but he had just made a significant impact on Stan and was acting as if nothing
“Cheese is perfect,” Stan said softly.
Bill beamed and Stan felt like his heart was going to
explode out of his chest.
Stan really wanted to kiss Bill. But he didn’t.
After they ate their pizza, Bill suggested they watch
something. And by something, Stan knew that Bill meant Game of Thrones. Bill was a die-hard Thrones fan and nearly had an aneurism when he found out that Stan didn’t
watch it. Last week, he finally convinced Stan to start watching it. Stan was
already on season three.
Bill sat down next to Stan, but in an unnecessarily close
way. Stan sat curled against the arm of the couch and Bill sat right down
beside him. There was only a small inch or so of space between them. Stan said
nothing because he didn’t want Bill to move away.
“You know, I feel bad for Theon,” Stan confessed.
Bill didn’t say anything.
“I mean, I understand why
he did what he did. He just wanted his father’s approval. I don’t agree with
his actions, but I understand the motive. You know? And, wow, he really does not deserve… that.”
Stan’s eyes went wide, and so did Bill’s. From how red Bill’s
face was, Stan could tell he most definitely did not mean to say that out loud.
“Thanks,” Stan found himself saying. “You too.”
And then he kissed Bill. Holy shit. He was kissing Bill. And Bill was kissing him
Even for a first kiss, it was pretty awesome. Stan had no
idea what he was doing with his mouth, but Bill seemed to have some experience
so he took charge. His right hand went around the back of Stan’s neck, while
the other propped himself up against the arm of the couch that Stan’s back was
Stan was in paradise, his hands wrapped around Bill and
digging into Bill’s soft hair.
When Bill pulled away, they were both panting, gasping for
air. Bill’s eyes were peering into Stan’s, and both boys smiled before Stan
pulled Bill’s face down, crushing his lips to Bill’s once more.
2. call it out when you see/hear it happening. if someone makes a nazi/holocaust/antisemitic joke? let them know that it wasn’t funny. if someone perpetuates a harmful stereotype, like that we’re all capitalists/communists/greedy/lust for the blood of children/etc? shut them down.
3. notice when someone in an sjw circle is being antisemitic. don’t tolerate someone using “jew” and “israeli” interchangeably, or insist that jewish people are somehow more racist than the average white person. feel free to remind people that jewish people overwhelmingly voted for clinton in this past election (source here). one of the best ways to fight antisemitism is within our own communities.
and that’s all i can think of right now! i’m sure those blogs can give much better tips.