GG Alin' s wake

We went to sleep to the sound of GG snoring, so I had no need to be alarmed. He wasn’t blue. He didn’t vomit. He was just snoring.

In the morning, at about nine o’clock, Liz wakes me up and says, “I think there’s something wrong with GG.”

I went over to where GG was laying and he was wearing a cut-off jean jacket, Liz’s skirt, those boots, and a silver Nazi helmet that he loved. It was his most prized possession He’d left the Nazi helmet at my house before the show, because he loved it so much and didn’t want to loose it.

So I go to him and he’s cold and he’s stiff—and very dead on my floor.

I was still a little high from the night before, so I was confused, but I’m good in a crisis. I can focus on what has to be done. Little things drive me nuts. If I lose my keys, I go nuts, but if my grandfather dies, suddenly I’m gonna organize everything and pay for it later.

The first thing I did, before anything, was grab the remaining dope and run up to my roof to hide it, because I knew what’s gonna happen next. Then I called Merle and told him, and called the police to tell them. I told the cops, “I think we have an OD here, I think we have a death here,” but I don’t know if I ever admitted to the police that I was doing dope too.

I wasn’t afraid that the cops would charge me with murder, I was more afraid of getting busted for drugs, ya know? GG obviously was my really good friend, and there were more than a few people to say I had no reason to kill him, so I wasn’t really afraid of that.

So they sent a cop over who determined that GG was dead. Then all the cops flooded my little apartment and there was a cop standing outside my door for a couple hours. Finally, they put GG in a body bag—it was a fifth floor walk-up—and carried him down the stairs. It took a couple guys, because GG was a big fellow. They carried him down to the street and put him the wagon and drove him to the morgue.

One thing that I hadn’t thought about that looked really weird and suspicious was that after GG fell asleep, Liz, my girlfriend, and I all took Polaroid’s of us laying next to GG that we were gonna show him in morning. We were cuddling with him and smiling in the photos.

Well, the police found the Polaroids and confiscated them. And then we all had to go down to the 9th Precinct to tell our version of the story. At first they were very suspicious of us. The cops were like, “What kind of fucking person lies down with a corpse and smiles and waves?”

We had to explain, that although he was in the exact same position, he wasn’t dead, that he was snoring. But boy, did that look not too good for us.

Now I can kinda get a kick outta it, but at the time it seemed like, “Fuck! That’s really sick!”

Anyway, when all of this was over they found that none of us did anything criminal. I tried for weeks to get those Polaroids back, but the cops just refused and I don’t know what ever happened to them. I’m sure there in a folder somewhere at the 9th Precinct.

I think GG would have thought that was funny. I think he would have loved that story.

He’d be like, “The police thought that Johnny Puke was posing with my corpse!”