I'll be honest: I come from a fucked up family. Maybe as fucked up as Logan's. The difference being that in my family the cardinal rule is to keep the skeletons in the closet. Logan's family keeps the skeletons nailed to the front porch, with dildos rammed through the eye sockets and a big sign that says "FREE CANDY" next to a bowl full of cum-glazed-shit. My family is ashamed of itself, and rightly so. Logan's family celebrates their depravity like the family in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
All of which is to say that I, at this point, was still reserving judgment of Logan. I've fought against being defined by the actions of my family -both evil and innocent- my entire life. Just because his parents couldn't understand the concept of sharing a room or his grandparents couldn't respect the sanctity of a stranger's bed didnt' mean he was the same.
Eventually they had to leave, and I would learn the truth. It would be just him and me and the truth would come out. That truth, is that Logan was their Leatherface. He didn't have a blood-lust and cannibalistic tendencies, that I knew of, at least. He did, however, lack any social awareness and coupled that lack with a complete disregard for others. And yet, somehow, it wasn't selfishness. It was how he was raised; he genuinely thought he was the center of the universe. His family thought so too, and he'd never known anyone or anything else. When eventually challenged by the larger world that is college, he didn't get angry. Instead, he treated his detractors, myself included, as if we were the foolish toddlers still learning about the world. He was patient with us, with our yelling at him, because he knew that he was god, and no one -at least for the year I knew him- could challenge that.
Of course, this created a dangerous mixture: He was the little prince straight from David Lynch's version of Wonderland whose parents bizarrely secure financial liquidity left him with almost no door unopened. I was the youngest of seven children in a Todd Solodnz movie and was the one who was allowed nothing in life on the basis of simply being youngest. Imagine my rage when this freak gets everything and can't even figure out that you don't have to turn the ringer off whenever you answer the phone, and not only do I have nothing I didn't work for myself, I have to live with him.
Now, patient reader, I admit that so far this blog has been a giant cock-tease. You are here for stories of animal-love, of fantastical creatures, and even a little bit of laughs. Well, the ground-work has been laid and from here on out you have the context to fully know the man who was Logan and would become Tiger'ish.
I'll end this post with a taste of life with Logan. Given his bizarre narcissism, Logan surmised that Wolverine of the X-men was named for him. Ergo, this Logan, my roommate, is the Logan of lore. He is Wolverine. When I challenged this, he merely reasoned that as Wolverine was older than now-Logan, it was something of a prophecy. THE FUCKER COULDN'T TELL FACT FROM FICTION! EVEN WITH A MOVIE THAT FEATURES SUPER-FUCKING-HEROES. AND AN ACTOR THAT WOULD APPEAR IN ANOTHER FAVORITE FILM OF HIS, STAR TREK INSURRECTION! He simply saw it as his destiny, as shown to him by the good people at 20th Century Fox to become Wolverine.
To that end, he attempted to groom himself in appropriate fashion. This task lasted as long as I would know him, and probably beyond. I spent my last moment with Logan taking his picture, knowing that this past year would be one for the record books. Here's how far he got in his quest to become Wolverine: