Monday, December 14, 2009

Santa won't be pooping in my Christmas tree!



Its Christmas time~! I want to share my wish list with everyone just in case you want to purchase something for me! I’m not greedy or vain but I know how much each of you loves me and wants to purchase high end electronics for me during this time of giving.

1. A 52” 1080p Plasma HI Def TV
2. Two attractive female Asian twins over the age of 21 as concubines.
3. The playboy mansion all bills paid.
4. A ping pong ball
5. Scuba flippers.
6. Rights to the Sam Addams brewery.
7. New Socks
8. $45,000,000 tax free
9. A better sense of humor to come up with something funny to write.

Just kidding, I actually was thinking about the holidays and this time of year and realized how much it fucking sucks! Seriously, I am out buying really cool stuff that I won’t ever get to use. I’ve bought in the past everything from Artwork to fine wine. But typically what I get in return for giving these super awesome gnarly gifts is only a sadden knowledge that they will most likely never enjoy that gift as much as I would have. But I have to remind myself that this is not the season to think about me but to think about others and those less fortunate than myself. Like people who live where there is no Starbucks. One thing I do enjoy though is that every year I participate in the Angel Tree Gifts for Kids program sponsored by the Salvation Army. As a child my family grew up with meager means but usually had a pretty fun Christmas, my parents did their best with what they had to ensure we had a few gifts under the tree each year. This was a tough thing at times because there were five of us greedy little bastards running around. One year though for reasons I can’t remember my siblings and I received charity much like that of the Angel tree. If it was the Angel Tree program I don’t recall but I remember opening gifts that were not wrapped with the wrapping paper dad had stashed in the back of the demon closet. Yes we had a demon closet at least that was what I was convinced lived in the back of my parents walk in closet. This closet had the ability to never fill no matter how much stuff you shoved in it. The closet always smelled strange like burning wire, oh and you could dig through clothes and shoes for hours and never find the carpet. Actually when my mother moved out of that house it took my brother and myself a few days to dig everything out of that closet. It was a portal from the “other side” to transport junk from the 70’s. I’m not sure but my brother at one point seemed to be grabbed by something and had to fight it off and in the end we had to clean ectoplasm off the walls. Ok, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration, but still it was a rather troubling experience.
Back to my point that as a child I experienced the charity of others and it has inspired me in my early adult life to give back to children in need. Every year I invest in this program and so I was out looking for that specially cool gift that I wouldn’t get to play with to give to a child in need I was forced into venturing into the chasm of shit that is Wal-Mart. We have had the talk about how much I hate this place and that I really hope Sam Walton is in some sort of hell for the demonic thing he created. So upon entering the parking lot I start to dodge the traffic and decide it best to park at the mini strip mall at the end of the parking lot and walk to the beast swallowing people and spitting others out it’s shit colored doors. As I get close I hear the familiar ring of the most annoying bell ever created in the world. You know the one I’m talking about, it is the one that has the people standing next to a hanging bucket shaking a bell designed by mad scientist to induce a maddening psychosis that causes you to go to extremes to make them stop ringing. Most give money without asking for anything, they are dumb. I put a dollar in the bucket and like any transaction I expect a product for the money I spend so I ask for the bell. Do you know that some of them will actually give it to you? It’s amazing when it works, it is better than winning the lottery! Then some sick part of you wants to ring the damn thing as well. I think it has a curse built into the bell that demands it’s wielder to ring it. When I asked for the bell I was told no, so I entered the store slightly saddened that I didn’t get to take the damn bell and save the world from a sound that will cause mass murder and rage inside the store over who gets the last box of Honey Combs. Inside it is a typical situation, one might refer to it as a “mad house” but I don’t think of it as that as all. I look at it as a explosives factory ready to blow up because that fucking bell already lit the fuse. I make it through the store with little trouble and exit to the sound of that son of a bitch ringing that bell as fast as he can. It was like he was attempting to find out how many rings it takes to get Santa to actually show up.
What strikes me funny is the two sidedness of the season. There is the side that says it's about the spirit and yet it is also the backbone of the American shopping season. A major portion of sales for retailers happen during this time of year so to compete with each other and to do this they all toss up commercials and adds that depict Christmas attire and special holiday savings. I fell prey to this ideology during “Black Friday”. No, I did not fight the crowds for door buster savings, I instead logged onto the internet and started surfing as fast as my fingers and internet connection would let me. I found something out about myself when it comes to shopping for cool things I know I’ll never get to play with. Those gifts I mentioned earlier that I know will not be enjoyed by those who receive them as much as I would have. I am a cheap son of a bitch! I had multiple screens running comparing prices and getting the best deals on the web, I bought for most of the 15 plus people on my life and didn’t break $100.00. I’m awesome I know! ! ! Anyway I often find that I am offended like many people that the holidays seem to be about commercialism and not about the true spirit of caring for your friends and family along with giving to those less fortunate. So I started to think about how I felt about this situation and I’ve come up with a simple solution for me and I’ve slept really good now that I’ve settled this for myself. My solution was that I don’t give a fuck. I decided that I will give to those I want to give to and this year I would buy myself Christmas gifts! Yep I am my own Santa this year! I’ve already bought myself gifts, wrapped them then unwrapped them and rewrapped them again! It’s been fun almost surprising myself with something special. I figure that I will only have a few years of my adult life where I will not be obligated to a child or a family that I will want to give stuff too and so this year it’s all about me. I say its time we all play Santa to ourselves! So what is you want this year? Is it a hooker that will say yes to everything? If so be sure you said yes to those condom commercials you’ve been seeing on TV. If your idea of a gift for yourself is a pair of scuba flipper and a snorkel, condoms, smokes and a microwave dinner then I say go for it you sick fuck. I don’t want to know what the snorkel is for, though I have an idea what the flippers are for and I have to say I like your style.

So folks enjoy this time of year, it only comes around once every twelve months. Buy yourself something nice, kinky, stupid or just fun. But remember that this time of year is about joy so I don’t want to hear any of this crap about how the holidays get you down. Don’t let it, find something to bring a smile to your face. Believe it or not the thing that brings the most joy for me is giving back to the Angel Tree. I know that is a hard thing to imagine about me since I did just buy myself gifts from Santa, but really it is something I truly love doing. Find what brings joy to your life and let that be what Christmas is about. Don’t let it be about a religion or a store or an ideology, but simply let it be.

P.S. Each of you should watch The Muppets Christmas Carol, if you don't Santa will come poop in your Christmas Tree.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Not even four boobs could make me want to tip her.


Many of you have realized by now that I have had a few adventures and a couple encounters with the opposite sex. I find that I fair decently at attracting attention and maintaining said attention until I decide it’s time for it to end. Saturday night a couple of good friends were at my home for a visit, which turned into a few drinks, which turned into a trip to the local strip bar. As a man I have the primal urge to spend all of my paycheck to see girls get naked…. Oh wait no I don’t.

It started out as a simple conversation with Brandon and a good friend that went horribly wrong about two beers in. Our friend Seth announces that we are all going to the “titty bar”. Now the local den of sin is one of glitz and glamour… by glitz I mean sagging worn out boobs and by glamour I mean cheap watered down beer. Most strip bars you visit too be entertained by surgically enhanced girls with low self-esteem and major daddy issues. But this establishment specializes in finding the rejected women of a local meth house. These are the girls that allows you to see just how far the American dollar can get you, and it’s never pretty.

I walk into the dimly lit bar which I can only assume is dimly lit because the girls currently working were their A Team, the best looking ones they have. You see when the B Team is there the lights don’t really work at all. With the lights on I knew that at least I wouldn’t fall and stab myself with who knows what on the floor thus contracting some horrible disease that would require weekly treatments and a special commercial that I would be invited to participate in. One of those commercials where the good looking guy hooking his boat to the truck says “I have herpes, and I use herpaxil” or whatever the brand of drug they are promoting that week is on TBS. We order drinks immediately and start to medicate our eyesight. But before I could even finish my first beer a stripper who had no tits and a sagging stomach saunters over and says “wanna tip me for my dance?” I am an honest person and I sometimes realize that honesty isn’t the best policy. Well this wasn’t one of those times. I gave her a once over look and say “I haven’t drank enough to tip you.” Of course she was offended and says something to the effect of “what do you need to see four tits before you tip?” and without thought or hesitation I say “If you had four tits I might actually tip just to see how fucked up that would be. Plus it’s always better when I’m drunk enough to not know if you actually have four or not. Come back later.” She of course leaves rather agitated at my brutal honesty, I couldn’t care less. Brandon saw that had happened and was leaning back in his chair laughing at my tactical handling of the situation. Seth was slightly distracted as another young lady decided that he needed to tip her, now Seth not being the raging asshole that I am tipped the girl. Why he tipped her I am unsure, she had nothing worth paying for. Seth had more tit than this girl, and not to mention the fact that one of the first things out of this lady of the nights mouth was “I have three angels at home, I’m so proud of my cesarean scar.” I now needed more to drink and found only more watered down domestic beer. Being a bit of a beer snob I left the table to seek out a better brew only to be met by a bartender that could have passed as a midget but didn’t have any of the endearing features that I find so charmingly creepy about the little people. I ask for a Sam Addams? They don’t have it. (I am annoyed by now) Guinness? No. (I really want a dark beer and I am feeling the urge to beat the bar tender to death with the pour handle of Bud Light) Amber Bach? Not available. (I hate my life) “Dark beer? Yeah right! I’ve been asking the bosses to get any dark beer in here for over a year and they just keep bringing bud light” anger is the only thing I could feel at that moment. I was surrounded by half naked ugly girls that I would pay to for them put their clothes back on and I couldn’t even get a decent beer to distract me from fact that I was in possibly the shittiest strip club in America.

There are moments in ones life when a man is forced to take lemons and make… well, someone scream in pain by squeezing the juice into someone else’s eyes! I chose to make this one of those moments. I returned to my table to find Seth and Brandon were joined by a man named George. George is a guy that you would expect to find at a strip bar, drinking his 7 and seven thinking it makes him more attractive and intelligent. To me though he was just another bumbling idiot that reminded me why there should be an application for people to breed. George happens to be seated next to me at this table and takes the opportunity to make things as uncomfortable as possible by asking a simple question. “Do I have good arms for a man my age? Go ahead feel them!” He says as he is trying to flex his rather thin arms. As I stare in the face of this balding middle aged man who has a wondering eye flexing his arm trying to match his masculinity against my own I say. “George, I don’t swing that way. But thanks” I then hear the laugh that will haunt my nightmares for decades to come. It was something that he had to have practiced for years. This laugh was half chuckle and half cartoon demon laughing; I still can’t decide which it really is. Seth was kind enough to take George’s mind off of me before I said something rude, which was fine with me because this freed me up to notice all the disgusting things going on for a dollar.

Strippers have no shame when you pull out a one dollar bill. They will shove their boobs in your face, shake their butt and do just about anything you ask short of fucking you. Seth had attracted the attention of one of the titless girls who decided that she should dedicate her time to trying to siphon off our cash by sitting as close to Seth as possible. Seth having plenty of experience in strip bars doesn’t hesitate in capitalizing on this by pulling out a dollar. The look that crossed the strippers face was one of a child on Christmas morning eager to be allowed to posses their present. “I want you to shove your tits in Brandon’s face” Seth stated flatly to the girl who pulled her top down and proceeded to rub her chest on Brandon’s face. I say chest because when I say this girl had no boobs I mean literally she had nipples and a flat chest and nothing more. She finishes and like a puppy who just learned to pee outside she looks at Seth who presents her with her treat in the form of a greenback. This carried on for a couple of hours until the girl that I had told to come back when she had four boobs decided that I should be drunk enough to see four boobs. The problem was that I am used to drinking beer that is more beer and less water, so I was less than drunk by this point in time. I hear that raking voice “want to tip me yet?” I look at the girl who had more tit to offer than the one currently nestled next to Seth but hardly and say “sweet heart, either the beer isn’t working or you aren’t.” Again she was angered by my statement but to make her feel better I pulled a lone dollar bill out and her mood changed from outrage to “come fuck me” and I was now her favorite client. I give her the dollar and say “bye now” and turn to talk to Brandon who is currently laughing at the emotional roller coaster I had sent this poor girl on. So to be fair to the girl I decide I should explain why I dismissed her so quickly. “Listen honey, I don’t come here for you girls to get naked. I come here so you can put your clothes back on, now if you would please?” Then I ignore her again to the sound of rolling laughter both from my friends and the stripper now attempting to wiggle her way into Seth’s lap. It was close to closing time by now and the girl who called herself Willow decided that Seth should have her number and she his. Willow then produced her cell phone from somewhere hidden in a G string, my guess is she keeps it in her……uh “portable pocket” and asks Seth to input his number into her phone. So without hesitation Seth punches in a number and hands it to her and I realize that the look on his face meant that he had put in not his number but Brandon’s. Willow looks down at the glowing screen and announces that she is going to text Seth and that the name in the text will be her real name. He says ok but with a worried look on his face, to which I take the opportunity to try to communicate non-verbally to Brandon what was going on. Brandon is a bright fellow most of the time, but this night he was not. I look at him then down to his phone as Willow is saying she is going to text Seth and then I look at Seth, back to Brandon’s phone then mouth the words “be cool”. Brandon says out loud “what?” I can’t help him now I realize and say “never mind, sometimes you’re an idiot.” I love the guy to death but he doesn’t catch on when he needs too. Luckily Willow was called away to the stage at which time the three of us take the chance to leave before Willow could return and only then did I realize that George had disappeared. I look about to see George sitting at the edge of the stage with a dollar bill between his teeth shaking his head for a stripper to come take the dollar from him, and to my great delight it was the three hundred pound stripper that decided to take him up on that offer and amazingly George was thrilled it would seem.

I don’t know if Brandon ever got a text message or not, but I do know that I left that night knowing that I had gained nothing more than an appreciation for most of the girls I’ve dated in the past and a slight loathing for them too. They were never happy with just a dollar…. Maybe I should date a stripper and keep a stack of dollar bills lying around for when I take her outside.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Jack Frost Pimp Slapped Me Today!

Son of a bitch it was cold this morning, I woke to find the first real frost of the year had settled on my jeep. A big middle finger from Jack Frost I suppose was in order as the first thing I said as I stepped out my door was “FUUHHHCCKKK K K K K!” My body wasn’t ready for the cold that struck it like a Mack Truck hitting a squire too dumb to get out of the way… wait that’s a bad analogy. More like the girl back in Wichita whom I had forgotten her name. I found out that night actually how strange that really is. It never seems so bad in the movies, but in real life… awkward! So in the spirit of the winter setting in finally I have updated my blog and I hope you like the newly upgraded fancy high tech super cool….. Ah crap I used a freaking free download program to change the page and make it look like it’s snowing. I figured I wouldn’t get away with the half naked strippers dancing on the page so this was the next best thing. A new post will be up soon, look for it in the next day or so!

Monday, November 23, 2009

It’s Thanksgiving, so be thankful you ungrateful puss bags!



All the things I’m thankful for!

During this wonderful time of year of food, family, friends and festivities I feel I must join the masses and let everyone know how great my life is and how sucky I hope yours is by stating all the things I have to be thankful for!

I am thankful for many things in life, too many in fact to name them all here or explain why I am thankful for them. But I hope to share a few and perhaps next year I will revisit this topic and expand on the items I neglect this time around. These are in no particular order as I cannot in good conscious say I am more thankful for one thing over the rest, as a result of this there will not be the list of 1. through 20. No I will keep it simple for us, so come along and perhaps you will find you are thankful for some of the same things I am. Perhaps you and I are not so different…

I am thankful for my bed which I now sit and write this list, it has provided many nights of blissful sleep and also a stage to shag women who have been gracious enough to whore themselves out to me without charge besides the soul devouring dates and nagging conversations that have absolutely no relevance to anything in my life.
I am thankful that the mattress has held up to me collapsing on it night after self loathing night for staying in the job I have. I am also thankful to Gain Detergent for getting the stains out. (I’ll let you just guess what the stains are, I bet you have them on your sheets too)

I’m thankful for stoplights, without these the dumb ass ignorant fucks who drive in this town and yours wouldn’t understand the simple concept of the four way stop intersection. On the flip side, I am thankful for the dumb ass ignorant fucks because they help me understand that evolution is real and it has passed them by and chose me to understand the complexities of traffic signs.

I am thankful for the stupid fat kid at the grocery store that was whining about not getting the “ho’ ho’s” because I am inspired to be an advocate for youth exercise programs in public school. I am also thankful for the morbidly, sickeningly, vomit inducing fat disgusting example of a mother that was trying to reach the powdered donuts with her cane from her motor scooter. I’m thankful not because she caused me to puke up my Spicy Italian sandwich from Subway (not the healthiest I know, but don’t worry the fat nasty woman helped me with that) but because she inspires me to take better care of myself and aim to make it to her ripe old age of I’d guess of thirty five and not need a motor scooter to get my five hundred dollars of groceries while having an asthma attack from lifting a cane for powdered donuts.

I’m thankful for retarded people, they make me feel incredibly smart and are nice enough most of the time to actually feel good about making me feel smart by them being retarded. I’m a horrible person I know, and I don’t care. Retarded people make me smile because I’m not like them and they are just happy as hell drooling on them selves.

I’m thankful for single mom’s, they tend to have lower standards after dealing with a horrible ex which makes me look like a saint regardless of me enjoying retarded people making me feel smart. Many single moms have been thankful for my bed as well in case you were wondering, it’s super comfy! I’m also thankful for condoms to keep me from creating a single mom with a horrible ex. I really don’t understand why people don’t use them more…. Oh wait that is because those are some of the other dumb fucks that I’m thankful for. Yep, I am thankful for the dumb fucks who don’t use condoms and procreate at an unnatural rate creating a new race of stupid dumb redneck idiots to make my Spicy Italian sandwich at Subway.

I am thankful to the Chinese for the idea that I hope one day will be implemented here in the United States of maximum child limits. To limit the number of dumb fucks to make sandwiches at Subway, let’s face it we can’t really support too many more sandwich shops people and these stupid backwoods retards are still breeding like rabbits. No I don’t mean the actual retards breeding… though if they are that should be stopped as well. I don’t think that if a person requires someone to take care of them, they should allowed to bring another life into this world that inevitably someone else will have to take of as well. We have enough of that with deadbeat junky parents from Kentucky, oh and also Oklahoma.

I am thankful for ugly people, not mildly unattractive ones that most people don’t notice while passing them in the mall. No I’m talking the ones that get beat with a baseball bat as they are squeezed out of their mom’s cooch then thrown down the stairs to the ugly floor and then dropped in a bucket of gross. Those kind of people, they make me look like Brad Pitt and justify me looking in the mirror in the morning and enjoy myself looking back. (yes I’m vain, get over the fact that I’m adorable and if I were a woman I’d do me!)

I’m thankful for old people, they give me the understanding of how important it is to accept myself and understand that I don’t need to make my hair turn blue or wear a wig to hide the fact that I’m old. I’m also thankful for them because they forget to wear deodorant and that reminds me how important it is that I wear it! I’m very aware that my bed will be lonely if I don’t wear deodorant. Old people also have taught me that I get to be a REAL bastard if I live long enough and get away with it because I will be old. I mean how many times do you get stuck behind an old person driving down the road, you start screaming at them to hurry up or pull over so you can get around them. You are stuck behind them for an eternity and when you do finally pass them you look over give them the bird and then feel slightly bad for it because you realize that they are so old they have no fucking clue that their $40,000.00 car can do more than 25MPH and they have the biggest shit eating grin on their face that they are still driving. A couple miles down the road you realize that the old person knows perfectly well what they were doing and then you get pissed off again because they were driving slow because they are old and can get away with it! This brings up another point though I would like to make. When will we start taking away the privilege to drive to people who can’t see more than five feet in front of them?

I’m thankful for drugs, the hard drugs. Cocaine, heroine, meth, speed, acid, PCP! I’m thankful that those drugs exist, because without that more dumbass ignorant fucks would be out of jail breeding like rabbits creating more employee’s than jobs at the local sandwich shop.

I’m thankful for lazy asshole who don’t do shit and suck up a welfare check from the government, beat their women and treat their children like animals! Without these fine people no one else would be on COPS. They are doing us all a service by providing us something to watch on Saturday’s.

I’m thankful for Beer! I am thankful that good honest church men started brewing beer because the water in England was so nasty and poisonous that they needed something that provided a clean source of liquid intake to hydrate the masses. Plus it gets you drunk! Thanks Guinness!

I’m thankful for my family, their insanity allows my insanity to seem sane. Which also leads me to say I am thankful for Valium which helps us all deal with family?

I’m thankful for the internet, by which means my blog is possible. Plus there is more porn available online than any one man or woman could ever physically watch so you can always find something new to jerk off too if you don’t have your bible handy.

I’m thankful for televangelist, without them I would not have much to make me laugh on Sunday mornings. I find it so refreshing to see the lies they present every week, it brings back so many fond memories of cultish activities that my parents had me take part in as a child. For instance communion, that sacred ritual that so many people practice on a regular basis in so many sects of Christianity is truly fucked up! You have to be one twisted son of a bitch to be able to tell a five year old that a cracker is made out of the dead body of Jesus Christ and that the grape juice you are about to drink is the blood of Christ. Do you have any idea what that did to me as a child? I mean first I was told to not bite my siblings and that eating them is called cannibalism, cannibalism I was told was wrong. But here a preacher is telling me that the food and drink I was being given during a dimly lit ceremony was the body and blood of Christ. Hmmm let me think about that, this would be the stored dead remains of Jesus Christ who died on a cross and which the likeness is posted all over every fucking church that worships Jesus and the Christian faith which if you ever look there isn’t much meat on that white guys bones. Yes virtually every picture depicts Jesus as white, mostly because that is who painted the pictures and no one know what he actually looked like or if he actually existed. But getting back to my point that I was being told two different things about eating people, it wasn’t ok to bite a chunk out of my brother’s arm or leg but it was cool to eat the dead remains of Jesus who had been dead a couple thousand years and drink his blood. At five I couldn’t help but wonder how they were able to keep his blood from drying up that long and how much blood did Jesus have because ever fucking week that damn preacher was telling people to eat Jesus and drink his blood. As I got older I was made aware of the myth of Vampires and I couldn’t help but notice a correlation between vampirism and communion in church. Christians I equated were practicing to become vampires in their next life, for now they drink grape juice or wine. But it’s just a warm up round for when they turn into vampires and actually drink people’s blood. Let’s be honest shall we? Preachers are often vampires of people’s weak minds and emotions; they tend to survive off the stupid ignorant fucks who chose to consume religion instead of drugs. Please don’t assume that I think all religious people are stupid, but in my personal experience anyone who is intelligent and actually studies religion soon finds it unbelievable.

I’m thankful for desks to beat my head against when I am forced to deal with people I find to be stupid, which I find a lot of them in my line of work. I’m also thankful for the waiting period to purchase a firearm because I’m sure I would have shot some of the idiots I’ve been around in the last year. That waiting period gives you a chance to rethink all the problems with killing someone, like where will you stash the body? How will you be sure to not leave DNA evidence? What will your alibi be? In the end I have always found that the idiot isn’t worth killing.

I am thankful for the men and women who serve this country to protect the liberties I have that provide me the freedom to write this blog, I am thankful to them for being loyal to their leaders even though the war they are fighting doesn’t make a bit of sense.

With that said I am thankful for you who read my sometimes ridiculous writing and yet somehow find it in your hearts to return each week to see trash might fall onto this blog.
Thank you one and all and happy thanksgiving to each and every last one of you.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Halloween!

Halloween came and went this last weekend and I want to say that I am rather pissed off at those little bastards who neglected to come by my door and take my candy! I like Halloween, I think it’s a fun holiday that I hope the right wing psycho conservatives don’t get their way and have it removed from America’s holiday schedule. I like most everything about the holiday, I enjoy the time of year it arrives in. I love the idea that we get an opportunity to give other peoples kids sugar and hype them up and not have to deal with the consequences directly. I love the idea of being anyone you want to be for just one day, just a few hours to let loose and let your inner child play and be whatever you want to be. Sometimes those are scary monsters and sometimes you end up seeing men dressed in their wife’s cloths and not ashamed to flash some leg and ass while they are at it. I think it’s a wonderful chance for children to get to play dress up and that the adults can play along for at least once a year. I love seeing what people arrive in, some are ghouls and some are naughty Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. I didn’t have anywhere to go this year so I stayed home and passed out candy…well I wanted to pass out candy. Turns out that people didn’t take their kids down my street, even the bastards that live in my neighborhood decided it wasn’t safe or profitable to trick or treat in my neighborhood. I went to the store and purchased several pounds of candy, I’m talking bags and bags folks! I turned my porch light on, opened my front door, had stickers on the big bay window and had the curtains open so that everyone could see the big bowl of candy sitting there for any who would be brave enough to just ask. I started at 6pm and waited, then waited some more… waited some more… forty five minutes later I have my first trick or treater’s. They were a couple kids that must have been under six as they couldn’t even say trick or treat; they just stared at me with blank faces. No I wasn’t dressed as Zombie Jesus, I thought that might be a little traumatic to the little monsters. It took another hour before my next set of kids arrive, they took a few pieces and left. By this point I was starting to worry because it was nearly nine pm and I had only made two trips to the door with candy. My worries were soon put to rest as shortly after the second set my third trip to the door was made and much like the first it was the neighbors’ kids and they are both rather young and made no effort to say trick or treat. By this point I was sure that I had much more candy than I needed to survive the night. So I look down and the two girls and say “take as much as you’d like kids!” they just stare at me… I was rather frustrated at this point and said “here” as I reached into my bowl and grabbed a large handful of candy and stuffed it in each of their buckets. They were the last kids of the night. Let me tell you I am a little surprised by this, I guess Halloween just isn’t like it used to be when I was a kid. I remember the few years when my parents were evil sinners and decided to allow us to trick or treat we would be out till ten or later asking for candy. We would hit our neighborhood, my grandparent’s area, my aunt’s block and just about anywhere in between. I remember collecting enough candy to last till Easter most years. But now I guess it just isn’t safe to take your kids to a guy’s house who offers free candy to small children dressed up as their favorite characters…. Wait that sounds creepy… Maybe parents shouldn’t let their kids go door to door asking for candy!

Monday, October 26, 2009

What I learned from Saturday morning cartoons (or why I masterbate to the bible)


I think I’ve figured out why I’m screwed up a bit. I recently was on YouTube watching retarded people make fools of themselves and came across a few clips from early cartoons I watched as a kid on Saturday morning. I would watch them before my parents would wake and demand I read the bible to cleanse myself from the evils of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. They in turn would watch some television program that promoted shady morals on a cruise ship that “helped” people fall in love….. (yeah right, the base of that show was “come to our boat and shag! We don’t mind!”) While they watched their innuendo’s of sex, drugs and capitalism I would be “forced” to read a few scripture from the “holy bible”. Did you know that if you use your imagination the bible if full of really fun stuff? There are stories of mass genocide, fratricide, orgies and even a guy named Lot who to be the “good guy” and protect the angels from the horny city folk that wanted to have sex with them tossed his daughters to the mob to be raped over and over again! Such a cool book when you have an imagination like mine! I’m pretty sure my parents never thought I would be reading the bible and thinking “you know, this needs pictures because I bet that Lot’s daughters were topless!” Nothing like being ten and getting off to the stories in the bible! I sit here and I compare the cartoons that are on tv right now with the insanity that is available in the form of Spongebob and I find it is less intelligent than the cartoons of the golden era of Bugs Bunny. Squarepants bounces off the wall while laughing at the simple things like bubbles for much longer than is healthy for anyone to laugh at a bubble, Bugs Bunny on the other hand would violently harm Elmer Fudd or convince him that it was actually duck season and then Daffy would loose his bill because Fudd shot his face off. Neither of these impacted me as a child, I did watch Looney Toon’s and enjoyed them. But my diet of cartoons was rooted in Transformers, G.I. Joe, He Man and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I want to take a few minutes to talk about what I learned no through these shows but because of these shows. Looking back I was unaware of the damage these Saturday mornings would do to me and the outcome of them twenty years later.

Transformers is a timeless story of good vs. evil. Two opposing forces seeking the same thing but going about it in very different ways, the autobots working along side the humans while the decepticons attempt to take through force what they want and in the process destroy their foe.
Lets take a look at the stuff I really learned from that show. I learned that semi trucks were all giant robots that if you watched enough of them one would turn into a big robot with guns. That seems all fine except that for some reason I always felt like it was trying to tell me that I needed to have a bigger penis than the next guy or the bad giant robots would kick my ass. I learned that physics meant nothing at all since Megatron was just as tall as Optimus Prime, but transformed into a pistol that fit in Starscreams hand. Let me tell you that fucked me up when I started to learn geometry! But seeing as my parents in their infinite wisdom knew my education would be superior if I was home schooled with an emphasis on divine design we didn’t focus much on the small details like geometry. But instead they focused on the evils that the cartoons taught us! The teenage mutant ninja turtles were a direct result of science gone wrong and were evolved creatures they were obviously anti-Christian and should be condemned. My mother would preach to me that God did not and would not ever allow something like a turtle to evolve to a point to communicate intelligently because that would be a blaspheme to the work he did by making humans out of dirt! The flaw I always found was that if we were made of dirt by a divine creator who is infinitely more intelligent than any of us dumb asses why did mom always try to stop her children from eating dirt? If we were made of it why not consume more of that thing to grow? This made sense my five year old brain simply because I hadn’t been exposed to the idea of cannibalism. Though there were times I did think about roasting my siblings and serving them for dinner when I was very angry. Of course when mother found me to have thoughts of murder and fratricide I was simply possessed by a devil and she would pray for me. This proved to be very effective because I always got really weirded out by people praying to the empty space of air asking for the thing inside me to go away. So to me they were asking for my soul to be taken away and as a five year old that was a terrifying thing. I had been told after all that my soul would be the only thing to make it to heaven or hell in the end and if they were asking it to leave then I would be just screwed! But all that to say that there were many times when the TV was turned off because it contradicted what the church said the bible commanded. But there were other times when my parents just didn’t care… with that I was always confused. It was bad last Saturday but this Saturday it’s not because they she wanted to sleep in late. But on the occasions I was reprimanded for watching inappropriate television I would be sent to my room with my bible in hand to “meditate” on the word of God. About the age of ten when a boy starts to discover himself and the opposite sex I had no instruction in the ways of the birds and the bee’s besides the bible. Let me tell you it is a bad instruction manual for telling a guy how to get a girl. First off the poetry in the Song of Solomon were great and if you have an imagination like mine they were simply pornographic! But it didn’t help me pick up any chick. Many times while reading I would feel a stirring in my “loins” as they say while reading about how so and so lay together in a green pasture. I was sheltered from the secular world but sex was not something far from my mind even at the age of ten. I may be the only person in the world who wanked off to images conjured from the bible but I doubt it. There are many other oppressed and repressed young men out there with no other form of sex, violence and guilt besides the bible and I am just one of the only ones who will admit what they did. For instance let me just quote a few lines from the Song of Solomon sometimes called the Song of Songs. This is from the King James Bible.

Chapter 1 verse 2
2Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

Hmm when I read this I can’t help but be confused about Solomon’s sexuality. This did not turn me on…. I was disappointed. Lets read on though.

3Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.

This verse on the other hand was juicy in my mind. But I had to hope it was talking of girls and not guys, even at the age ten I knew I was straight. So I just pretended it was aimed from a girl’s point of view written by a guy who obviously had sexual identity issues. But “the savour of thy good ointment thy name is as ointment poured forth” I am pretty sure he was writing about a blow job here… (I’ll let you figure out what I was thinking about when he wrote “ointment”) “Therefore do the virgins love thee.” So to me it meant this guy was hung like a horse. Yep so blowjob for this guy… so far good stuff for an ancient porn.

4Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.

Let me translate this into The New Living Translation of Adam! “I am drawn to the king, I’ve longed for him. The king bought me to his bed and we screamed our brains out while we had wild monkey sex! I will always remember riding him reverse cowgirl style!” Damn that’s some hot sex! At least that is how I read it even at the age of ten!

5I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

Holy shit! This is interracial porn! It’s jungle fever for this crazy Jew in the story! Yeah for bible porn!

6Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me: my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Damn she is shy! That’s ok, I like shy girls… and what’s this? “They made me the keeper of vineyards, but mine own vineyard have I not kept” Oh she is a slut! SWEET!

7Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?

She got some lovin and now she wants more of it. If you don’t get that she is asking for a noon quickie you have no imagination.

8If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherds' tents.

Ok he’s game, he wants to see her, but this is a secret love affair so they have to be discreet. Now as a ten year old boy it didn’t take much to get me going, this so far was a kinky freaky farm porn in my mind.

9I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots.

This verse scares me, I’m pretty sure I said this guy must have been hung like a horse and she evidently agrees. She says though that she compared him to a company of horses…. I sometimes wondered if she meant that she had also shagged the horses as well. If that is the case then the bible is way crazier than every preacher in the world thinks. This might just be some hardcore bestiality.

10Thy cheeks are comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with chains of gold.

This… I’ll leave this to your imagination. Man you have a dirty mind…. I thought I was bad.

11We will make thee borders of gold with studs of silver.

I can’t help but think about strange piercings all over her, my personal thought… nipple rings.

12While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof.

Did she just call her vagina a “spikenard”? that is one crazy kinky name for a vagina. I’ve heard calling it “kitty” or a few other names, but “spikenard”? wow! (for those who don’t know a spikenard is a herb from the ginseng family.)

13A bundle of myrrh is my well-beloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts

Can you say money shot! So not only does these few verses talk about the reverse cowgirl position, interracial sex, pet names for vagina, comparing a guy to the size of a horse but to top it off they basically say that he blew his load and they stayed in between her mammoth boobs! Yeah I made up that she has mammoth boobs but you would too ok.

As you can see for me the bible was a fun book to read, so when I got in trouble I had no problem being entertained by “holy scripture”.


If you think I’m going to hell, you might be right. But if I am I’ll see you there because I know you were laughing at some point of this blog. Just think, this all came from me watching cartoons on Saturday morning. I might have turned out a little more normal if mom had just let me watch my fucking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Zombie Jesus... That's what I wanna see!


I have absolutely nothing of value to say today. Of course this isn’t uncommon as most of my rants are of no moral substance, nor do they lend to the betterment of humanity. So today I figure I will strike up a topic that will piss some of you off and leave others wondering where I lost my sanity. Well the answer to my sanity’s whereabouts is simple really, I happen to leave them in baggage at LaGuardia International with a nice young lady who appeared to be holding a sign that said “Will Hump For Food”. Though I am unsure of what she really meant by this never the less I left my sanity there when I was in New York this summer. So what is this thing that might cause you to wonder about the state of my mental health? Well to be blunt it’s quite simple really, it isn’t a statement or creed that proves I’ve gone off the reservation so far that I should be considered for institutionalization, nor weekly treatments in a chair at the Psychologist. I simply think that religion controlled by humans is ridiculous and bad. I grew up in a strict extremist Pentecostal church that taught us to fear the world and to understand that everyone that doesn’t attend that church is going to hell. To which I always thought was ridiculous bullshit, but being the good church going son I was I didn’t raise my voice to this. I simply bit my tongue and thought that most of the people in the church were fucking morons. I was educated that the ways of the world were evil, to buy a product made by Walt Disney was a sin because they were part of the evils of Hollywood, which is in the same state that some Pornography is made, which links Mickey mouse to porn thus making Disney a manufacturer of Porn, which meant that Mickey Mouse was shooting porn in the Walt Disney movies and by that thinking we should boycott them. By boycott I mean we were not allowed to go see their films, which didn’t matter because we were not allowed to go to the theater because it would show rated R films and those films come from Hollywood, which is in the same state that some porn was made, that meant porn was shown constantly in the theaters in every town across America and because there was porn being shown people would fornicate and molest each other while engaging in a mass orgy. Later in life when I rebelled against the ways of the lord and snuck in with a friend of mine to see the film Jurassic Park I was greatly disappointed that there was neither porn nor any orgies that I might take part in and thus fall from grace. Though watching Jeff Goldblum did seem like a sin as he was absolutely horrid in that film. I attended this church until I was nineteen when I was asked to leave for telling the other teens that the bible contradicts itself in many places and that Jesus the son of God who is all knowing didn’t know everything according to the bible and lied to the people on the mount when he ascended into the heavens. If my memory serves me correctly, I believe he said something about the faithful not tasting death before his return. As far as I can tell every last one of those people are dead or never existed. Let’s just say that the preacher wasn’t too happy about that, or the fact that I told him his wife was a bitch. But I am getting ahead of myself, let’s take a step back and discuss a little more about the dogma that plagued the cult….. I mean church I was forced to attend as long as I lived under my parent’s roof. At the tender age of eight I remember watching my first live action Easter reenactment! Excitement coursed through my every fiber as this was the closest thing I could get to watching a movie. I was excited to see the live portrayal of the life of Jesus of Nazareth, his death and ultimately his resurrection. I was looking forward to seeing Zombie Jesus! How fucking disappointed was I when it turned out that he was just a walking talking person with a couple cheap fake scars to impress the ladies. Hell I didn’t even get to see him get stabbed on the cross! I wanted to see the blood, the violence, the absolute destruction of this mans back from a whip beating him within an inch of his life! What did I get? Flashing lights, cheap smoke machine and bad acting with crappy corn syrup with food dye. I was looking forward to the violence that the bible promised, and I got a G rated version of a NC – 17 story. First thought came to my mind? This is bullshit! I think it was that moment that helped me start my path to discovery about the beliefs I now hold. So lets all give a round of applause to Church! Good job on retaining a member! Later when I must have been about thirteen or fourteen, I was in youth group. It was a Wednesday night sermon with lots of yelling and really cool modern music for the young people of Gen X and the early Gen Y’ers … lets get one thing clear, Christian music sucked then… I’m pretty sure it isn’t any better now, but since I don’t listen to that any longer I wouldn’t know. Instead I now listen to a variety of music that according to one preacher I was under stated was devil music. I’m pretty sure that Bache would be very upset if he learned that he was a creator of “devil music”. Though perhaps some of the other music I listen to might be considered “evil” I still don’t think it’s the devil’s music. If there was such a creation that one would call the Devil I am sure that he has grown into a little more class than to listen to AC DC’s highway to hell, in fact I would think he would listen to a little more classical music like Chopin since he has been around since the beginning of time…. So perhaps that preacher wasn’t so far off after all on what the devil might listen too… Well I have to say that I like the devil’s taste in music. A surprising notion as I happen to not believe in the devil. But back to the thought on the time when I was in my early teen’s, I remember many Wednesday nights attending youth group sitting in the back running the audio board thinking to myself that the electronics I’m attending too make more sense than the religious dogma that is being screamed from the microphone. For me I found that the construction of metals and circuits, the way that energy entered the box and exited made logical sense. The thought that everyone who didn’t believe exactly what was told by the preacher was going to hell; including those who hadn’t heard the “good news” in other parts of the world. This thought lead me to another thought, if other religions are out there, they must believe that all other religions are wrong and that we are going to hell for not believing what their preacher told them. This made me worry that perhaps in my parents limited knowledge of the world that perhaps they picked the wrong religion, perhaps I was going to hell for believing what I was being told. I was devastated by this notion, I being intelligent to understand that I didn’t understand everything in the world I asked my youth minister this perplexing question. His response was faith was the answer; if I had enough faith that god would speak to me and tell me the truth. A truth that stated that this church was the only right religion in the world and that over six billion people were heading to hell because they didn’t believe exactly what I believed. This confused me more because I was under the impression that god is love, to me sending six billion good people to hell because they didn’t attend and believe my churches beliefs was a shitty and mean thing to do. Asking the preacher why a god of love would do this I was told that He is a jealous god and he demands me to have faith in him and the leaders of the church. To me this just meant that I needed to shut the fuck up and stop asking logical questions because I was becoming too interested in the very thing they wanted me to be interested in. This marked the second stage of my fall from faith.

The final fall from grace… well that is pretty simple. I realized around the time I was sixteen that religion didn’t make sense and that though it taught some very decent morals it went about it the wrong way; at least at my church they did. I found by the age of eighteen I had a understanding of the religion they wanted me to know and also to teach others about. I understood that what they were wanting was for me to follow a path that I didn’t believe and couldn’t understand why anyone else would want to believe either. The basics were good, don’t steel, don’t cheat, don’t murder, and don’t covet. All these things were good morals to live by, but the catch with religion was that you were told not to do these things because that loving god upstairs is watching you like an evil dictator waiting for you to screw up so he can pimp slap the shit out of you and send your soul to a fiery hell. Again, doesn’t seem like a loving god that they teach in Sunday school to small children. The ideas taught were of obedience and submission through fear of the unknown. This for me was the greatest wrong anyone can do, they told me that if I couldn’t accept on “faith” that they were right then I should leave. So I did and have not been very welcomed there since. Let’s talk a little about faith, faith is a funny word. Let’s see what dictionary.com has to say the definition of “faith” is.

–noun
1. confidence or trust in a person or thing: faith in another's ability.
2. belief that is not based on proof: He had faith that the hypothesis would be substantiated by fact.
3. belief in God or in the doctrines or teachings of religion: the firm faith of the Pilgrims.
4. belief in anything, as a code of ethics, standards of merit, etc.: to be of the same faith with someone concerning honesty.
5. a system of religious belief: the Christian faith; the Jewish faith.
6. the obligation of loyalty or fidelity to a person, promise, engagement, etc.: Failure to appear would be breaking faith.
7. the observance of this obligation; fidelity to one's promise, oath, allegiance, etc.: He was the only one who proved his faith during our recent troubles.
8. Christian Theology. the trust in God and in His promises as made through Christ and the Scriptures by which humans are justified or saved.

By looking at these explanations of faith we see that what the church I attended wanted me to understand was number three “belief in God or in the doctrines or teachings of religion” But for me number two was what made number three invalid. “belief that is not based on proof”. This is also reflected in the bible as well Hebrews 11 verse 1 states according to the King James Bible “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” I am not going to preach out of the bible, but I use this to illustrate my point that even in the bible faith is a hope or belief in something that there is no proof of or evidence to support as a theory. For me this is the straw that broke the camels back, this was the final piece to the puzzle that had plagued me for nearly a decade. This led me on a quest to understand other religions and in the process find what I could believe in. during that time I spent a fair amount of time exploring things that had little or nothing to do with religion, but let’s face it. I didn’t get to see porn or even rated R boobs until I was sneaking into theaters and I felt I had some making up to do. So there were many a night I spent in less than Christian locations. I looked into Zen, a little into Islam (by the way, screw the seventy two virgins, give me one experienced girl. That is about all I can handle) I even into other strange mystic crap. Turns out each was just as full of shit as the next, but they each were glad to take my cold hard cash for educating me in their religion. Scientology, that made up religion at least advertises that you have to pay to get to the mother ship! Christianity, they just pass a bag or plate down the pews each week and make you feel bad for not giving to the church every week. Because if you don’t give to the church then the preacher who has dedicated his life and sacrificed so much for the good of the people may have to trade in that caddy and drive a Chevy instead. I’m not going to get started on the finances of religion right now; it isn’t a subject I want to delve into because I want to keep my dinner down. Some of the practices in churches are sickening when it comes to the finances.

Religion at its core is a decent idea for those who fundamentally need a hope to hang onto. A dream that they will live on beyond this world is common and a absolute cornerstone of religion. They tell you do good and you will be rewarded, be good and you will go to heaven. I say fuck that shit! Do good because it is right! Be good because what you do now impacts those around you and the future generations that are left after us. Care for those we will leave behind when we pass. Ask yourself which is better, to do a good deed because you will be rewarded by a overseeing entity that will punish you if you don’t do good? Or is it more rewarding to do good deeds not because you want the reward of not being punished, but because it is from your heart and you feel and know it is the right thing to do. I go to sleep each night knowing and understanding that my actions each day leave a foot print in the world, how I walk will leave either damage to the world that will take time to repair or if I am careful and caring with my footfalls I will create a path that leave no damage and by doing this I leave this world better than I found it. I know that some churches teach to do good for goodness sake, but do they teach tolerance of other religions? Or do they teach that only those who ascribe to the beliefs of that church will reach a paradise after they die? For me I believe that this is it, what we do here is the only shot we have at life. We live and die here and our legacy will be what lives on forever in the lives of those we leave behind. If I am wrong though, somehow I think that if there is a “god” he\she\it would be a fair and just god. God would look at each person and determine by the life they led if they were a good person and worthy of “paradise”. Throughout history some of the greatest crimes against humanity have been carried out in religions or god’s name. If the world were free of religion a couple things would happen. First many people wouldn’t know how to do anything because they believe Jesus still makes the sun rise each morning and if the sun came up without Jesus making it rise their little brains would explode all over their cheerio’s. I personally like cheerio’s and would hate to see them wasted by having dumb peoples brains all over them. The other thing that would happen is the religious wars that have caused America to attack Iraq, Pakistan and other Middle Eastern countries would end. The world would find that they are pretty much the same for the most part, and that most people want the same things. They want peace and happiness. They want their families to be healthy and safe. People would stop killing because someone else didn’t believe that their religion was the only way. True as humans we would just find another reason to kill each other, but at least you wouldn’t have read this long blog by me!

Let me leave you with this thought, if at eight years old I was thinking Zombie Jesus would be cool to see… how fucked up was I even then? Oh come on! You have to admit that Zombie Jesus next Easter would be totally awesome! Fuck it! I’m going as Zombie Jesus for Halloween!

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Don't screw with my ketchup


A few years ago I was a little more vile, a bit misogynistic and much more of a asshole. What I’m about to disclose is all true, no liberties with creative writing. There is a time in most men’s lives when you care about one thing and one thing only. No it isn’t sex, it’s themselves. This story is at a time when I was living that selfish life to its fullest, it was full of sex, debauchery, vanity, stupidity and lots of alcohol. How I survived those years are still a bit of a mystery, perhaps one day I will find a few clues on YouTube as I am sure some of my adventures were filmed by someone’s camera-phone.

It was a warm summer night by the time I returned home from a long day working to find my roommate in a particularly good mood. Not to say that he was a morose fellow or a person depressed from repressed childhood of not getting the bicycle that he kept asking for as a boy. In fact he was a rather cheerful guy, but this night he was as a child who was just informed that the bicycle that he has been begging his dad for all year was just told it was sitting on the front porch. “What are you doing tonight?” Craig asked. “No plans as of yet, probably head to Jerry’s and see what is going on down there, you?” Craig gets a big grin on his face that clearly gives away that he has a date with one of the girls he recently met online via Myspace. For those women out there who are insane enough to read my blog let me advise you of one thing you should already know, DON’T EVER MEET ANYONE FROM MYSPACE! “So who is she and why do I have a feeling you are about to ask for a favor?” Craig laughed and told me of a girl he had been talking with on the internet and that she wanted to meet up but would only go if she had a friend come with her, she also requested that Craig bring a date for her friend so it could be a group date. Now the idea of a date with a potentially good looking girl without even so much as flirting at a smoke filled bar was one that brought that same bicycle grin to my face. I shower and cologne myself up and out the door we go. The plan for the night was rather simple. Meet the girls at a local restaurant that had a bar in it for dinner and drinks then see how everyone was feeling then perhaps venture on to a club or other activities. Let me pause here for just a moment and tell you that if you are expecting a steamy date story and hot romance or even that a friend is made from this situation, you are very wrong. This story doesn’t have a happy ending, it has a train wreck of an ending and to be honest I wouldn’t change a thing about this night if I had it to do over again. The restaurant is a local haunt that I spent many nights in and miss to this day. They brew their own beer and let me tell you, it’s a damn fine beer! Craig and I are seated at a corner booth table; this booth is a rounded table with a wrap around bench. So no matter where you are sitting you are next to a person. This is usually conducive to a date and so neither Craig nor I were abject to having this as the table for a double date. We are seated and order a couple beers and chat about this girl is that he is meeting for the first time. I learned that this would be the first face to face meeting that they would have and that he was actually interested in this girl for more than just a notch in his belt; so good behavior was requested on my part for the evening. If you are wondering why he actually had to ask me to behave it is because I am very outspoken and can be crass at times. I will be the first to admit that I don’t have a filter in my head that stops my mouth from spilling out the thoughts that formulate in my brain before they escape and offend those they are directed at. I have little to no regret about anything I say as nearly everything I say is complete honesty from me. Those who are my friends, are my friends by choice and have either learned to ignore this part of me or embrace it and are no longer offended by my linguistic disability. Craig asked me to behave because he has been a friend long enough to know that if I don’t put forth great effort to curtail my tongue that bad things sometimes happen. Though I have brought more girls home because of my blatant conversation than I have been turned down by, I understood that tonight wasn’t about me. It was about him meeting someone he had invested time in and wanted the evening to go well. I hated to tell him there is a flaw in his plan, that flaw is me. Craig should have known that when it comes to meeting people there are very few who can tolerate me and even less I tolerate. At that point in my life I had a very real issue of putting up with ignorant or stupid people, and to me most people were one or the other. Don’t worry, I’ve mellowed in the last few years a bit and I have learned that not everyone falls in one of those two categories. I learned that there are many more that needed adding to this list, like people who smell, the annoying and the stuck-up too good for everyone else, also the religious zealots who can’t seem to get through their heads that there is more to life’s questions than “god wants it that way”.

Waiting on girls, Craig and I sit and converse between ourselves and the waiter in friendly banter. I behave myself with waiters because I know they can spit in my food or drink and I would never know. The girls were supposed to meet us at 8pm which as I looked down at my watch was now half an hour ago. “Did you tell them eight or nine? I ask Craig who reaffirms that it was supposed to be eight. We wait another twenty minutes before I decide that these girls are stupid and are standing us up, I wasn’t about to let two inconsiderate twats ruin my evening in one of my favorite places. (Yes I had emotional displaced anger) I place an order for a burger and fries along with another beer, what Craig ordered escapes me at this point. The order takes roughly half an hour to arrive, and as our food is placed on our table guess who walks in? The two women who think that mimicking Sex in the City stars would impress a couple of guys who worked for FedEx. Little did they know that both of us hate that show, so the imitation Sex in the City girls saunter to our tables like divas and I want nothing more than to take the salt bottle, uncork the cap and toss it in both their eyes for being late and acting like it was no big deal. Their arrival came at the worst possible time for them as I was already annoyed that I had wasted my evening waiting on a couple girls who dressed like they couldn’t figure out if they wanted to be sexy or old ladies, lets just say I had no interest in them and had passed up meeting up with other girls that I regularly spent time with at Jerry’s bar. By this point I was hungry and I had given up on behaving, the combination of these things culminated in an annoyed anger at the girls showing up over an hour and a half late. Craig on the other hand was excited and happy to see them walk in, I on the other hand wanted to tell them to piss off and never bother showing either of their faces anywhere near me, oh and if they could be so kind as to die on the way out the door it would be appreciated. But being the friend I am I bit my tongue and smiled as they arrived. Introductions were made Marie was whom Craig has been talking with and her friend was Jennifer. (No not the Jennifer from my other stories, this is a different one) We settle into our seats, Marie and Craig then Jennifer and I. We wave down the waiter and order drinks for the girls, both order cliché cosmo’s, I was even further annoyed. Marie and Craig waist no time in chatting and I was quickly informed that Jennifer was a good Christian girl. Jennifer quickly confirmed this and was quick to ask if I believed in Jesus just as I pick up the bottle of ketchup and proceed to pat the bottom to extract the red contents to smother my fries. I can’t remember what else Jennifer said after the Jesus question as I was engrossed in my ritual of getting the ketchup out of the bottle, plus by now I hate her. It takes a patients and tenacity to get ketchup out of a glass bottle when it is brand new. Something I have learned is it is always worth the effort to gently pat the bottom of the bottle at a downward angle. Some people will swing the bottle at their plate like they are attempting to stab their fries while picturing that they are stabbing the face of the girl next to them who just asked if they believed in Jesus. This usually ends with an enormous splat of ketchup landing on the plate, fries, burger and people around the mock murder scene. I think this is funny to watch as it is a little retribution for those jackasses acting like they are stabbing something so as I pat the bottom of my bottle I crack a smile while ignoring Miss moderate, because lets face it that is exactly what she was. So as I gently pat my bottle of ketchup next to a girl who caused me to miss out of my friends and delayed my dinner time greatly I feel that urge to tell her to “fuck off I don’t care about your last church trip” but I don’t, instead I smile and act like I’m interested…I’m a good friend. This girl was moderately attractive, not something that would catch my attention at the bar or mall, but was thin and tall. She had a face that was less than desirable but again I was here as support for my buddy and not trying to score a one night stand. About thirty seconds into me patting the bottom of the bottle Jennifer stops mid sentence and says to me “Give me the bottle, I will get the ketchup out” in a slightly annoyed voice. “Great” I think to myself “she is already pulling this shit”. I remembered that I promised to be nice so I simply reply “It’s ok this is a new bottle, it will just take a minute”. This was completely unacceptable to her, “no just give it here I’ll use the knife to get it out.” I look down at the steak knife on the table, it is one of the extra large knives that are far bigger than needed to cut through a piece of beef, in fact I think these knives might actually be better suited to triage amputation on a battlefield in world war two; or to stab the girl demanding a ketchup bottle… anyway it is simply much too large to fit into the small spout of the ketchup bottle, so I state the obvious, at least to me. “The knife is too big, it won’t fit, don’t worry I got this”. She was not happy with my show of independence and must have determined that I was inept and incapable of caring for my own ketchup needs, she reaches for the bottle and that was the final straw and the camel’s back broke. Say goodbye to me playing nice, the filter that I had worked so hard on for the last minute crumbled and melted into a seven simple words, words that if used in any other sentence would not carry much power, words that said in a different tone would have been cause for a slight laugh. This was not the tone I used and as I pull the bottle away from the overbearing woman then continue to pat the bottom and without looking at her I say plainly in a near monotone voice sprinkled with a tiny bit of hatred “fuck off, who made you my mother?” Silence envelops the table and a light goes off over my head. I glance up to Jennifer mortified that I would speak to her in such a tone, my eyes move to her friend who was now starting to stutter while terror was plainly etched into every pour of her face. Craig on the other hand just starts laughing and says “and this is Adam”. I cock on eyebrow up and continue patting my bottle of ketchup and within a couple more pats the ketchup was flowing freely onto my plate and for that one moment with two women stunned to silence and my friend laughing all was right in the world. The sense of accomplishment I had from the ketchup made me feel completely vindicated in stating what I stated to the overbearing bitch who decided that I was just a stupid man who couldn’t take care of getting his own ketchup out.

I have been over this story with many people, the first thing out of many people is “Adam, she was probably just trying to be nice and be friendly”. I thought about this and I have to say no that isn’t true, if you were there you would have wanted to use her head to pat the bottom of the bottle of ketchup. If she was trying to be nice she would not have tried to take the bottle away from me for starters and she also would not have spoken in an annoyed and condescending tone. Now I know I’m an asshole and I should have handled this situation better, but like I said at the beginning of this story I feel that if I were to be in this situation again I would respond much the same way. I don’t take well to people of any gender speaking to me as if I am ignorant and incapable of handling simple tasks, the tone and situation was one that setup the outcome, so I blame her and her cosmo drinking ass. Perhaps if the girls had been considerate enough to call ahead and say that they would be running late I might have been less annoyed by them. Perhaps if the first thing out their mouths were not statements that indicated that they believed the only thing Craig or I were interested in was taking them home and fucking, things may have gone differently. I know that many men can think of little else, but I was not one of those men. I was in fact the man that only thinks of himself and at that particular moment I wanted ketchup and food, not a piece of miss moderate. To say the rest of the evening was awkward is an understatement, at least on their part. I was too pissed off by the girl that now had moved as far from me as possible and sat quietly scowling at me sipping her fruity drink to feel awkward. I ate my food (which by the way my fries with ketchup were awesome) and I looked at Jennifer and knew that I had to just sit and bide my time. Idle chit chat happened between the four of us, but it was nothing more than courtesies. The time they spent was rather short before Marie and Jennifer “had” to leave. To which I simply waved and said “have a great evening, nice to meet you” with the biggest smile and asshole written on my face. I turned to Craig and say “god you can find the biggest bitches in the world to meet up with. Her friend wasn’t even cute enough for me to fake being nice too so I could sleep with.” Craig burst into laughter and says “my god you are an asshole, I mean I knew you were an asshole but really you outdid yourself by telling her to fuck off.” I shrug my shoulders and respond by ordering another round of beers to try to take the edge off.