Tuesday, December 06, 2005


I am TIRED. So tired in fact that you are only getting this small half-assed shitty post. I went full on drinking on sunday and if you remind me about it I may tell you about it.

But right now I am going to tell you what an ass I am. A week or so ago I told you about how I met tony at a buzznet meetup here in Chicago. I believe I told you how cool he was and that I thought he was the definition of L A I D B A C K because he gave me a copy of Stiff and just said paypal me later. Sweet.

Here comes the me being an ass part. I forgot. I thought about it the next day but was running late and........ And nothing I forgot. For over a week. I am such an ass. But all is well. I emailed an apology and paypaled the twenty five dolla american money. So now he owes me an autograph. I will so have to get it before I start drinking next time. Good luck, right.

Well folks it is 6:41am in good ole chicago land and I am getting my tired ass to bed. Enjoy your day. Hell, enjoy someone else's day. You know they are either wasting it or taking it for granted anyway.

Monday, November 28, 2005


The hardest thing about writing a journal is the fucking writing. You actually need to sit down, stop reading everyone else crap and get down to writing yours.

BUZZNET! Saturday night I dropped off my daughter at her friend’s house for a sleep over. She was even more happy than I was. I was happy only because her well timed request to sleep over at her friend’s house coincided with the Buzznet meet up staring none other than tony pierce. I was running late because running late is what I do. I had to stop at my brother’s house to borrow some loot and I got hijacked into a Thanksgiving Dinner Reprise. Thanks brother the food was good. He also lent me the fifth season of The Sopranos on DVD of which I was only 3 episodes short of completing. Then I had to jump into my oh so illegally parked car which amazingly did not have a ticket on it and sped down to Uncommon Ground which I was initially afraid only served coffee but turned out to be a pretty cool bar. The lack of Southern Comfort and above mediocre service may keep me from returning but a cool place nonetheless. I arrived and tony was in his signature hat wearing it in signature style. (I will not capitalize his name out of respect for his refusal to do the same) He was sitting at the bar with Bobby D and two other people whose names I instantly forgot and never heard again as they didn’t join us before they left. It wasn’t until after we moved from the bar and away from Bobby did we learn that he was a childhood friend of tony’s. After that it seemed too hard and too rude to go over the bar and tell Bobby that I was going to ignore the person I came to see in order to pimp him for cool (read embarrassing) stories about tony p, so I didn’t. What I did do was sit and listen to one of the most interesting and funny story tellers I have met. Tony is able to talk like he writes, or write like he talks. Chicken or the egg you tell me. The other people in attendance in order of arrival were Byron, Chris, Brian, Diana, and Alex. Sorry tony for linking people to their blogs when available and not their Buzznet pages but people will find them I am sure.

There were many conversations at once and involved so many things. tony’s amazing ability to post twice every single damn day. Going to school in Chicago, living in CA, going to a cubs game for $3 back when the beer vendors would have sold to the underage because it is hard to make a quota when there are only 13,000 people in the stands, and drugs. That was tony’s convo. tony couldn’t believe that Alex and Diana don’t smoke pot and neither could I. They are musicians for goodness sake, classical musicians but musicians none the less. I think I read somewhere that Diana is an opera singer. I would hate to be her neighbor. Although to their defense I believe what they said was that they don’t smoke pot in their dorm rooms. On scholarships and all. Pot is not really my thing. Alcohol is my drug and it has been enough. Pot used to be tony’s drug but a little wouldn’t do it so a little got more and more and then more and more wouldn’t do it so he just gave it up. Put it aside more in circulation for the younger crowd. Then tony said drugs are what college is for. Experiment. Be all hallucinogens make you think you can be. But do it in the woods. Nature is your friend, he says. Nature knows you’re high and is nice to you. The stars are brighter, the grass is greener and the trees just say Duuude. Never really tried that stuff. Made an attempt once at age eighteen to do shrooms but could find any. Turns out watching Pink Floyd’s The Wall on shrooms is a bad idea according to tony. Nature. Nature is where it’s at.


Gave tony a big kiss on the cheek from Whatsername. No pics of that though. Might end up on the internet, you know. Bought him a shot. Two I believe. One of Bicardi, because they weren’t selling Cuban. But he sipped it neat like a Cuban. Props for that. And a red headed slut. I usually save that for later in the night but I left early as you will soon read. And I bought a round or two for Alex and Diana our two underage attendees. tony noticed them fidgeting first and ask if they wanted a drink. They were debating whether or not to use their fakes. I said all you have to do is ask. If the overage invite you out they expect you to drink and they expect to help the cause. Diana asked how much they owed for the drinks and I gave her a you gotta be kidding me look and said I was always willing to contribute to the delinquency of a minor. I feel that within reason it is not only your privilege but a duty to provide alcohol for the underage. It is like paying it forward. Someone bought for you, you should buy for someone else. Keeps the world going around.

Kind of like blogging does. We talked about blogging some, not as much as we should have being in the prescence of the blogfather, but he is pretty much able to and happy to talk about any topic presented. Before going to uncommon ground I had a conversation with Brother about blogging. Mainly about how I write too much on mine and if Monkey ever sees it I will so not be able to afford all the therapy she is going to need. He doesn’t read tony, which I find surprising but he is in IT and reads informational blogs. Blogs that link to places that tell you what happened and what is important. I think to think that this is important and what is happening. I think the busblog is the essential blog, and it should be as tony wrote the book.

Why did I miss the last 5 hours of drunken nonsense and hot dogs at 4am? I so do love hot dogs at 4am. And cheese fries. Didn’t anyone get the cheese fries?

Why did I plan 2 cool things on the same night? Part of the definition of a cool thing is that it is something you want to keep doing until someone makes you stop. So why stop voluntary? Because she is cute. Cuter than tony. Maybe not smarter, funnier or more prolific than tony but definitely cute.

Speaking of books. I bought a copy of Stiff. The one with the staircase on it. That one speaks to me I still don’t know why. And the coolest thing about the coolest dude is that he said paypal me later. Not now. Not you can’t leave the premises with out paying buster. Later. I had no real American currency and he didn’t have his xbi credit card reader. Later. How cool is that. I thought about taking advantage of the priceline type Stiff sale that he has going on but I thought fuck an autographed copy is worth $25. I’ll pay $25. The problem with the previous sentence isn’t the $25, it is the autographed. I went all the way down there to meet the man himself and get an autographed copy of Stiff. He dug around in his bag for the cover I was looking for and handed it over with a big smile on his face and my big dorkness forgot to have him sign it. Tony you are still getting $25 because I still want that autograph and your sense of duty will then force you to get to Chicago when it is not asscold out side and sign my book before going to a game. We will have to put the book in my car before going in ‘cause there is no way I am getting mustard all over a genuine tony p autograph. And we can’t do it after the game ‘cause there is no way in heck that anyone is remembering anything after all that Old Style. But I am drinking Bud Light because I will drink crap beer at a game but it’s at least gotta be a crap beer that I can pretend tastes good.

I live for Cub’s games in the summertime. Only hit six or seven this year but hope for a better record next year. Both mine and the Cubs.

Speaking of missing things at the Buzznet party. I missed OakParkMastermind and ElginRoots. Why is that it takes someone to come almost 3000 miles to almost meet someone who lives ten miles away.

She is Latina. I told a friend last Wednesday I was going to meet a girl, and when we got to the Latin club where she was he said what does she look like I said she is Latina. He said, curvy with nice hair. I said, you’ve met. That really is the best description of Latinas I have heard yet. I am going to call her Smiley because she is and so far she makes me smile. With Saturday being one of the few Saturdays that I was not working and Monkeyless I made plans with her. I was supposed to meet her between 9-9:30. I left Uncommon Ground when I overheard someone say it is 11:30. I left so quick that I was a good twenty yards down the road before I realized that I didn’t close my tab even though I had asked the waitress for it. But she also forgot one of the drinks in the two drink order so I should of asked again for the tab. At least I wasn’t in my car 20 minutes down the road. I got back in closed my tab and I don’t think any of the buzznetters saw me so I don’t think I looked like a dork.

I pick up Rico. As I am getting close to the bar he is in I call and say where are you and he says he is on the street corner smoking a joint. I laugh, see him in the street and promptly try and run him over. Sure enough he was actually standing on the corner smoking a joint. And he doesn’t even smoke. And he aint supposed to be drinking either, but he had three before I picked him up. Which probably means five. Then he drags me to a small taco stand for tacos with the strongest onions known to man. A piece of gum and a few drinks later Smiley was still giving me shit for my onion breath. Rico you bastard. Smiley ended up leaving the bar she was at to go down town to Nacional 27 and Restaurant club that plays Salsa on weekends. Most nights I believe. We (including Rico) had a few more drinks and then we ended up at Betty’s a place I should just let die already, but it is familiar and so close to home. At the end of the night I snagged a piece of gum from the bartender to try and finally kill the onion breath and I asked Smiley to wait as I paid my tab but the bartenders were doing shots so I got put on hold and when I got out side the Latinas were G O N E gone. I checked my phone no calls. Bastards. Without even saying goodbye. No kiss goodnight. I was a little pissed. I didn’t call her I thought she should call me. This morning I saw my phone and I had three missed text messages. Three, all from smiley. I guess I am the asshole. Rico agreed I am the asshole.

I was going to write this as soon as I got home but Rico stayed at my place so we sat and watched Sopranos on DVD, on my computer because my regular DVD player is dead. I watched all three episodes I needed to finish the season. Up till 8am I was and slept till only 10:45am because I had to go pick up monkey. I dropped her back off at 3:30pm and then took a well deserved well needed four hour nap. I then took Smiley to a movie. It was good. You may or may not see a post on that.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

So you know

I am still making posts over here. Still haven't completely made the jump to blogspot.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Blog Like It's Hot

I am going to blog like it’s en fuego was the first thing I thought this morning. I feel INSPIRED. Hot Canadian chicks are good like that. I think Smelly with be my muse the way Raymi is Tony’s muse. Image hosted by Photobucket.comAlthough Tony has got more muses than I have pairs of underwear, and I keep my drawer stocked. Pretty women inspire everything. Even each other. My stereo alarm was going off for 45 minutes before I got my sad ass out of bed to turn it off. I shut that bitch up and turned right around and slid right back into bed. I determined that I would not sleep away my morning but there was some morning bidness that had to be taken care of before I could get up. But before I could finish my door bell started ringing like the world was on fire. Fuck who could that be. Another round of manic ringing and I got up and put on my pants and trudged off toward the front windows. I thought it’s not the 1st so it isn’t the landlord. I have killed anyone in a while so it isn’t the police. Can’t see who is there from the window. It’s a man but standing to close to the building for a proper ID. I amble down the stairs pulling on my shirt. There is only one other person who rings my bell like that. . Shaft. Shaft himself graced my presence. Unannounced. As usual.

He is doing well. Clean and sober. We went to lunch at the best hole-in-the wall Cuban place in Chicago. Pancho’s. If you are ever in Chicago look it up. He has being chillin’ with the girl friend and is going to buy a house with her. A big ass $550,000 house in Oak Park. That’s what not spending $1000 a month on alcohol will do for you. There are going to rent out their current places. He mentioned the M word. Shaft, the M word. Who woulda thunk it. He said it is time to settle down. Settle down is a phrase that is even more unsettling than the M word. I wish him luck.

He told me that he saw my ex-girlfriend Blondie 3 times over the summer. 3 times. Bastard never told me. Her and her sister apparently play softball on a team that played against Shaft’s girlfriend’s team for the championship. He only talked to them once. Shaft briefly dated Blondie’s twin sister (also dubbed Blondie, yes it gets confusing) but that was a mess for another day. Blondie. I miss her still. After 2 ½ years. I don’t know if it is just because I got dumped or because I was in love. I always thought she had long term potential. My problem was I didn’t act like it. She was the only woman since the divorce that I considered having something long-term or permanent with. Bad timing. Bad attitude on my part. I was fully steeped in the Vortex at that point, and when hanging out with Romans you tend to do as Romans do. Read as Eat, Drink, and Do Mary. Maybe someday you will get the whole Blondie story. Maybe even a new Blondie story. We shall see.

Time to be productive. Might go out tonight. Can’t afford it but I have no will power.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Friday Night Was Made For Fighting

Or for drinking, or making an ass out of your self or whatever.

I met the Trixies at Sushi Samba Rio about 30 minutes late. Of course. I thought I was doing OK because I hadn’t gotten a where the fuck are you phone call. Turns out my phone was just fucking with me because I called them at about 8:25 to make sure they were there and they were like yeah where the fuck are you we are waiting to order, and as soon as I hung up my phone showed the missed phone calls from 30 minutes prior. I arrived and it was The Blonde One, Ballbreaker, Trixie and Hippie Chick.

Prior to dinner Trixie and Hippie Chick didn’t have nicknames prior to dinner but they evolved as the evening proceeded.

Trixie receives her name by default. She really has no other distinguishing characteristic other than being a trixie which of course is the defining characteristic of a trixie. She is a trixie wanna be. The Blonde One is a trixie because her beliefs and actions put her in that category but I believe Trixie forms her beliefs and actions so as to be a trixie. She was wearing a top that could be easily mistaken for a piece of lingerie. Ballbreaker called it her pajamas, although not to her face. I however made it a point later in the evening to tell Trixie that it looked like lingerie. Trixie never seemed to add much to the conversation. I asked her at one point what she did for a living and she said Finance. I guess that is a legitimate answer but you would think she could be more specific. Are you a back teller? Are you selling your ass on the street? What the fuck does finance mean. Jesus.

Hippie Chick is definitely not a trixie. She is not blonde and isn’t ashamed of the fact. She seemed down to earth and pleasant, but didn’t really say much until she had had a couple of drinks but left soon after that. The name hippie chick may not really apply and I will have to re-evaluate the moniker if I ever meet her again and/or have any type of meaningful conversation with her. The name came about because her blouse had this small flowery pattern, and she just seemed to have a more laidback holistic view She was nicely dressed but nothing you would go “ooooh where’d yo get that” or mistake it for a major label, but nice. . She wasn’t carrying a hemp purse or wearing Birkenstocks but when laid upon the canvas that is the trixies the contrast is startling.

Upon arriving the waitress chastised me for make for attractive ladies wait. She said I will give you a moment to look over the drink men- SoCo Coke ok I’ll be right back. Drink menu my ass. People who can’t figure out what they want to drink drive me nuts. You must have some idea of what you like. Especially the people who claim to be big drinkers and then when you ask them what they want they are all um, er, ah. Drink already and shut the hell up.

Ballbreaker looked classy as always. The Blonde One, blonde. The small talk before dinner was just that, small. Dinner was mediocre for the prices set. The ambiance was very cool and the people were good looking and trendy but probably not worth the cost. I vaguely remember some slightly interesting conversation at dinner but nothing I can remember. The Blonde One’s friend Matt (not unique enough for a nickname) joined us as we finished dinner. After dinner we went upstairs to the rooftop lounge which was cool but more crowded than a Wrigley field men’s room after a long top of the 7th. We got up there and found a place to stand where we wouldn’t be trampled or bumped into every ten minutes and they were just standing around and I could quite here what they were saying so I asked “Are we staying?” which seemed to puzzle them and they said “it is way more crowded than earlier” to which I replied “Are we staying or going somewhere else?” and they couldn’t quite figure out that I was asking why we were standing there without drinks and no one was making any attempt to get closer to the bar and the alcohol. So I took drink orders and BB followed me up to the bar knowing that it would be too much to carry. This is my down fall. I am not going to sit around waiting for someone else to take charge and I am usually the first to finish my drink and I am not going to be an ass and go up and get my own drink without offering one to the others in the group and I therefore always end up buying more rounds than everyone else, especially when in a group of women. Ball Breaker ordered a Ketel One Cosmo because who wants well Vodka, right? So it shows up and there are these little things floating in her drink. I have had whole slices of fruit in my drink and not noticed until the glass was empty. To her credit, rather than start yelling or complaining she asked what they were, thinking it may be parsley or something else added into the drink on purpose. Turned out it was mint from the last mojito the bartender made in the same shaker. The bartender apologized profusely (not needed) and made another one. I ended taking all the drinks back anyway while BB waited for her drink. I of course finished my drink before the girly girls, but waited until The Blonde one and Matt were almost ready for a drink before I went and got a second round. Yes I got the second round too. Hippie Chick waved off another drink saying that she had to work and was already pretty buzzed. She had had only two. Trixie wasn’t even half way into her drink. BB was more than half done so in my mind she was ready for another one. I ordered the round and had received two of the four drinks and was watching the bartender make the Cosmo when I saw her mouth the word “fuck” and then dump the Cosmo. When she got closer I asked her what happened. “More mint” She had to dump the Cosmo, rinse out the shaker and start all over. Fuck. I would have been kinda pissed off too. It was pretty busy in there and to have to remake drinks must be a pain in the ass.

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Hippie Chick was gone by the time I got back with the round. There was a guy behind us wearing this pretty ugly loud shirt. He started talking to us because he heard me talking about working in the ER and he said he was a Cardiologist. (The girls were doubtful but they way he talked made him seem possible ligit) We talked little bit, then I asked him if he was drunk when he put the shirt on. He laughed and said you better talk to my wife, she dressed me. I personally would say I got dressed drunk before I would ever admit that my wife dressed me. He went over and told his friends what I had said and they laughed. Then he told the wife. She didn’t appear amused.

I hadn't even realized I had gotten a picture of the shirt until I went to post this picture.

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Me, Ball Breaker

Some guys near us left and we got to sit down. That is when I whipped out the camera again. The girls were sitting down and BB grabbed Trixie’s leg and pulled it across her lap. Giving us what Trixie later called

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The Beaver Shot (l-r The Blonde One, Ball Breaker, and Trixie)

I told her that I would have never noticed if she hadn’t pointed it out and to stop complaining, she wasn’t wearin’ a skirt or nothin’. Whiny bitch. I did tell her I thought it was cool that a woman called it a Beaver Shot, then she told me Ball Breaker had dubbed it that. Extra Points. BB continues to impress me.

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Trixie kept whining for me to delete the beaver shot so I took this one of BB to even things out.
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After one more drink for me and Matt we all went to Mystic Celt to meet

The Flake. The Flake is another non-trixish member of the trixies. She is a girly girl and loves accessories and all that crap but is laid back and doesn’t spend a lot on clothes and such and is pretty granola bar. If she wasn’t such a flake her name would be hippie chick. She is the kind of girl who makes plans with you and then forgets the entire conversation ever occurred. She once told us a bunch of stories from when she was younger. Brother was there and asked how when the story took place. College. I think he spit out his drink. “I thought you were going to say high school, or when I was fourteen. College. Nice.” She pretty much had Brother rolling the entire time. She is fun to hang out with sometimes and is truly a nice person (something hard to say about the other trixies) but That Drunk Girl and I would just have to look at each other and shake our heads. And other times avoid each other’s gaze in fear of busting out laughing. Once on The Ass’ Birthday he was making sarcastic comments and she was getting completely offended and for once he wasn’t trying to be offensive and I had to translate what he said into what he meant. The Ass just looked and at me and said “Yeah, that’s it.” I think it was one of the only few times I have impressed him. She still didn’t get it. But you gotta keep some nice people around even if they are flaky. And flaky people can be entertaining.

I some how didn’t get a pic of The Flake, but I got a couple pictures at Mystic Celt.

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Group Hug

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I like this one

Not only did I not get pics of The Flake I also failed to photograph sad excuses of masculinity that accompanied her. Bald Guy, some people can pull off bald, he could not. And Dorky Guy. I mean full on dorky guy. I fully admit that I am a tall dorky white guy but I am beginning to realize that in that category I am the cream of the crop. It is not hard to look like Indiana Jones when you are surrounded by the cast of I am Sam. I teased Trixie asking her if she got dorky guy’s number and she almost spit out her drink. She said he kept touching her back while he talked to her, and there was no where for her to move so he couldn’t touch her back. I laughed but later thought she was being a little prissy. I will touch a woman’s back while talking to her in a bar. But not during the first 3 minutes. Dorky guy needs to work on his timing. And get the women drunker first. Like buy her four shots, then start talking to her. I so wish I had pictures.

We went to a third bar and there is more story but it is 4:30 in the AM and if I don't post this now you won't get it until Wednesday. But I will tell you

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Ballbreaker got drunk

PS- If Trixie was upset about the Beaver shot then it is a good thing she didn't see the cleavage in the group hug shot.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Where do we go now.

I had a couple of blog ideas while at work today but they are gone from the head now. Possibly never to return. And I have been caffiene free all day so the thoughts are not flowing as rapidly as usual. I will try to turn on the ADD and see what comes out.

I spoke to That Drunk Girl last week and found out that the first week in August will not be as good as originally thought, so I will have to change my flight to Hawaii to later in the month. I called ATA and found out that I can switch it for $50, which is cheaper than most of the airlines, as far as I know. But that $50 bumps us up to $471 which is still good but not the supper exciting far of $421. If I move the dates to later in the month I will be able to see the two Cubs games I have tickets for at the beginning of the month as well as the U2 concert on the 20th of Sept. I will however not make the last Cubs game of the season. Which of course of course always has the potential to be the day they clinch the wild card.

The ADD is not kicking so much. Must. Have. Caffiene.

Oh my God! James Doohan died yesterday. Sad day. Sad day. That's Scotty. Montgomery Scott. From Star Trek. Please tell me you know what I am talking about. Kids today. And speaking of kids. Dear old James Doohan had his youngest child 5 years ago. When he was 80! He married is third wife when he was 55 and she was 19. And he still managed to live another 30 years. Good for him. I think the kids kept him young. Because dealing with adults will kill you. I feel myself die a little every time I need to deal with morons masqerading as adults. I would rather be a kid. Forever.

Forever is a long damn time. Forever is tomorrow plus more days than you can count. Most days tomorrow is more days than I want to deal with.

I am truly tired now so I think I will try Amber's method of falling asleep and hope it work's better for me that it did for her.

Good Night and Good Luck.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Shocking News

More shocking than the news of the past few days. You should sit. You may not be able to handle it. Put pillows and blanket around you in case you pass out and hit the floor.

I did my DAMN laundry.

About damn time too. I was down to the santa boxers. You know you waited to long to do laundry if you have gone through most of the holiday undies. St. Paddy's Day, Father's Day, Fourth of July, Halloween, and Christmas. I went to the ghetto Bubbleland. I guess that's redundant as all Bubbleland's are pretty ghetto. Even the one's in semi-decent neighborhood's. But they are 24 hours. They are a little more expensive and a little further away than the true ghetto laundrymat but they are usually not very crowded so I am not fighting people for the dryers. People get crazy over that shit. Crazy, I say, CRAZY.

"IM GOING TO BLOG LIKE ITS EN FUEGO" has been running through my head lately. It's stolen of course. I'm not going to use it for much except to pimp out that blog and it's author. She changed her blog layout today. I didn't know it until after I decided to link there. I went there to copy the URL, and wa-la chango presto. Black instead of white, and she changed the name. The title was the above quote. I kinda liked the old color and layout, but what does that matter. My opinion should never stifle someone else's creativity. I mean, have you seen my blog. She gets waaaaaay more style points than I.

Do you know what the best thing about leftovers is? There is food. Left. Over. In YOUR fridge. It's the coolest thing. Especially when you forgot it was in there, and you walk to the fridge dejected and depressed knowing you are not going to find anything in there but open it anyway, and BAM! Food you forgot about. Now I don't mean moldy oldy forgot about it. I mean fresh enough to eat forgot about it. For me that means ordering a pizza at 5:30p eating it at 6p, putting it in the fridge at 7:30p and at 12midnight while sitting in the Burger King drive thru line remember that your silly ass put Pizza in the fridge less than five hours ago. BONUS. I pulled out of that drive thru line so fast I left light trails. I unfortunately I had already ordered, so BK is going to have to eat the cost of two Whoppers with cheese. Oh, well. I don't have stock in them.

I wanted to talk about blogging and where I want my blog to go but I was supposed to be at a friend's house 10 minutes ago, so you will have to wait until tomorrow night.

I am off to watch a subtitiled Chinese movie that I have never heard of.

Why ask Why? Drink Bud Dry.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Sometimes I don't live right

I have five minutes to write a 1 hour post so bear with me.

Tony Pierce just got me in trouble. First I get caught with proverbial pants down when tony decided to link to me on the day I expose a little bit of my personl life, but that's what this thing is for, right? I should have seen it comming, because although he is king, he is a benevolent king and if you link to him and you don't suck he will probably link back. And if you are cool like Raymi or Anti he will link to you like mad. So knowing this about tony I should have prepared the next post and got you to laugh so hard you pissed your pants, becasue who wouldn't want to return to a site that made you piss your pants. But instead of writing a post I surfed the net and drank SoCo and Coke (Diet Pepsi) out of a 32oz Arby's cup. So after consuming 64oz of luvin' I decided I needed company and called friends. Foti said he was in for the night. The Boys don't drink anymore. So i called The Ass. I wrote a post involving the Ass but it was one of the posts I deleted by accident and never reconstructed. There is plenty to say about him let me tell you. The Ass is Foti's friend from highschool and ex-roommate. The Ass is already out eating dinner so he says sure I have a drink with you. I show up have two drinks in this completely unpopulated bar. Ass calls his friend whose new nickname is Pussy because he wouldn't come out with us. The Ass and I go to another bar to play pool where I begin to drink like it's my JOB. Foti comes out after all and brings Greek Boy with him. I am not real fond of Greek boy but he has his moments. One of which is wehn he played The Ass at pool, allowed The Ass to take three of his balls off the table after the break and Greek Boy still won. It is nice to grow up with a pool table.

I am way over my five minutes.

We will jump ahead to where Tony gets me in trouble. If you haven't been to the busblog today, do so. Just not from work or around children. The reason for this is that Raymi is waiting there to meet you. Naked. A pleasant surprise. The photo is even hotter once you realize Jennifer Good is standing next to her. (read the comments to tony's posts) I am with monkey today and currently at my parents house. I was going to see what Tony had to say when Monkey walked in. Now i didn't react very fast because I wasn't doing anything wrong, until I remembered that Raymi was at the top of the page smiling at us, naked as a jaybird. I closed the window too late. Monkey was embarrassed. I did the only thing I could. I owned up.

"There was a naked lady on the computer screen."

"yes, there was"

"yes there was"

I explained to her that that picture is not normally there.

Monkey then left the room.

Thank Tony. Thanks Raymi.

I will now be taking donations to pay for Monkey's therapy. Or mine. I am not ready to talk to my daughter about naked people, but I gotta do it soon, so maybe this is a start.

I really do mean thanks. Tony's blog is what gets me through the day sometimes and for him to link here is super cool.

And Raymi is a stronger man than I. I don't have the balls to put my face up, much less dance around naked for others to see. She is the coolest.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Regular updates

I make regular updates here. I haven't made the decision to move everything to blogger yet but is probably what will happen.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Can't they ever get it right?

I have been pissed about something for a long time, something that Whatsername got pissed off about on June 8th.

That thing is that CNN has links all over place for video that usually seems like something you would wnat to look at, until you click on it and find out you have to sign up for their pay service to get video. Bastards. That was until now.

CNN now offers free video, apparently for all or almost all of their stories. Did they give up their money hungry ways and realize that we deserve to receive the news without having to pay through our nose? Nope. In order to watch a video clip for there news story you have to sit through 5-10 seconds of a commercial. And each one I have seen is a commercial with a song in the background usually a song that makes you cry because you used to like until it ended up in a commercial. I used to love Aerosmith's Dream On. Until I saw it in a car commercial. I barely watch TV. Ocasionally. Late at night. Or I watch DVDs. So I am usually spared from this travesty of sellouts, but now I will have to suffer on CNN's website, because I know that curiosty will get the best of me and make me click on the video links.

Now I do suppose I prefer the large corporations paying for my privilege of watching video on CNN's site but I am still pissed off about it. Mabye I should let this go, and start protesting against commercials in movie theaters. If they want commercials in movie theaters then they should make the movies free. I would get much more public support for this rant. Hopefully more on this later.

Good Night and Good Luck.

Friday, June 10, 2005


That Drunk Girl

She is my best friend, and has happened to have moved to Hawaii. And there’s nothin’ wrong with having a friend in Hawaii. It makes for a lot of cheap vacations. The only problem with her being in Hawaii is that she is in Hawaii. Which happens to be 5,000 miles away. Not as easy to go to an impromptu dinner and drinking fest.

Don’t give me a hard time about the nickname because it was self imposed. She uses it all the time, in sentences like “I couldn’t go talk to him he just thinks that I am that drunk girl” or “after a few drinks I am that drunk girl” “The bartender was nice to me but probably because he felt sorry for that drunk girl” But she is my drunk girl and I think I am going to keep her.

We met 7 years ago while she was a med student at the hospital where I worked. She came out with a group of us from the ER about a week after she had started her rotation and of course we were the last two out. For the next two months we were inseparable and drunk. I was working a part-time morning job at the time and was rarely on time and always hung over, but always willing to do it again. I can’t remember if it was that night or the second time we went out, but we ended up in a strip club because she said none of her male friends would take her. Which I found amazing because strippers love women. If you ever want attention in a strip club, bring a woman. Trust me. I bought her her first lap dance, and to the best of my knowledge her only lap dance.

She is a Californian which I try not to hold her against her. But it’s hard. When she was here she did nothing but bad mouth Chicago. Then she did her internship year in Richmond, Virginia. During which she could not wait to get back to Chicago, which is where she finished her residency.

Now that she is in Hawaii she has nothing good to say about Chicago except she is never coming back. We may convince her to come one summer for a Cubs game. We have her completely addicted to the Cubs. She even watches them in Hawaii when she can find them on TV.

It’s hard to put her or our friendship into words. She is the female version of me. It is rare that I find something funny that she does not and vice versa. There was one time that she was ranting about someone at work who continually tried to finish her sentences for her, at which point I apologized because I was “I, um, sorta do that too” to which she replied “oh, but that’s because we share a brain”. That pretty much sums us up.

She called tonight on her way back from a wine tasting at which she got pretty toasted. Just talking to her makes me smile. She has got to be the funniest person I know. Now that you know of That Dunk Girl you may be hearing of more TDG stories in the future.

My daughter is the only reason I am not currently living in Hawaii. If I could convince my ex-wife to let me take her with I would be gone in a heart beat. But they’ll be selling bibles in hell before that happens.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005


Ok, so I was a little pissed off this morning, but there you go. I have looked on MLB.com and googled the play and so far there is no outcry. Which is good. Waiting and seeing.

Good Luck and Good Night.

Be a man

Last night while enjoying a cold beer with a friend in a local drinking establishment I saw something I didn’t quite like on TV. It was a baseball play they showed over and over. I don’t know or care about the names of the teams but a runner was coming into home and the catcher gets into his stance, catches the ball, and turns to block the runner,……….and gets nailed. Big time and he loses the ball. Then, then he lays there like a wounded Dennis Rodman until his team mates show up to help him walk back to the dugout. They showed both sides screaming after that. About what I don’t know because the sound was down. But the pussy catcher and his pussy teammates were probably bitching about how hard he was hit. Fuck that. That’s baseball. They have gone all no-tolerance on batters hit with pitches and now there is going to be a stink about this for sure. Fuck that. Sure he got jacked in the neck and face, but this is professional sports. Professional fucking sports for goodness sake. Get up and shake it off. The only reason he is bitching and claiming to be a wounded pussy is that he dropped the ball. If he would have held on, he would have jumped up and down like the hero he would have been. He could have been missing and arm and his nose and he would have worn it like a badge of honor. Instead he his crying because his opponent did exactly what he was supposed to do. He knocked the ball out of his hands. The catcher plants him self so the base is not even visible the only thing he can do is knock the fuck out of you. Some times you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug. Deal with it.

So we will see how it pans out. But if they try and call unnecessary roughness or some shit every time this happens I will be one pissed off Mother Fucker. I can tell you that.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Deep Throat

I realize I am posting this a few days late and it is almost in the we don't care about that anymore department. The question is did it ever make it in to the we care dept. I was born during the Nixon administration, and although I grew up hearing about Watergate and Deep Throat, I have neither read nor seen All the President's Men. I own a book Abuse of Power that is a transcription of the Nixon tapes, but it lies mostly unread. Mainly because 90% of it is boring as hell.

There are a few issues here. Nixon broke the law, lied about breaking the law, and tried to cover up that he broke the law, and he got nailed for it. As did many that worked for him. Mark Felt was the Assistant Director of the FBI. Of the FBI. I had to repeat that in case someone didn't notice. We could argue for hours whether or not a major law enforcement official should ever leak information to the press. Instead we will talk about this particular incident. Motivation is what I am interested in. Did Mark Felt leak this information to Woodward and Bernstein (W&B) because he was aware of serious crimes and was being allowed to prosecute the offenders? Did Mark Felt inform W&B of these crimes because Nixon was at odds with the FBI and trying to limit his independence? Or did Mark Felt turn his back on the Office of the President of the United States because he was passed up for the job of Director of the FBI? Does it make a difference? Absolutely.

Did W&B keep Deep Throat's identity secret because they thought it would make their story more interesting and their book more exciting? Or did they keep his identity secret because they made a promise and wanted to keep their journalistic integrity? Does it make a difference? Oh, yeah! I believe it was the later, because I believe that they are true journalists and not hollywood wannabes. I believe they were out to persue the truth and make this information available to the American public.

Speaking of motivation and integrity, what the fuck is up with Felt's family? Mark Felt is 91 years old and in questionable health. Would it have killed them to wait a couple of years to spit this out. It has been kept secret for over 30 years, you couldn't keep your yap shut for just a couple more. And what the fuck was Mark Felt thinking. He lied to the press, the government, and the American public and then he blurts it out to his fucking family? Only those close to you can betray you. It is the nature of betrayal. If you are going to keep a secret, keep a secret dammit. Back to motivation. A member of his family is quoted in Vanity Fair as saying they do hope the revelation will "make at least enough money to pay some bills". Fuck me people. I hope someone is paying attention, especially someone from the Felt family. If they would have let him die then let W&B break the story, everybody and their grandmother would be trying to get them on TV to talk about his secrets and involvement in the scandal. As is, I hope no one asks them a fucking thing. Not once, not ever. And I certainly hope no one pays them to do it. And Vanity Fair. Vanity Fair. Now there's a bastion of journalism for you. At least Mark Felt had the sense and class to go with a newspaper that actually prints News. Now I may buy a W&B book on the subject, but I hope not to ever line the pockets of the Felt family.

I am not againt being opportunistic. I personally hope to make millions off this ratty ass blog, but I don't plan on pimping out anyone but my self. And maybe this guy.

Good Night and Good Luck.

Friday, June 03, 2005

Rules To Live By.........Or Not

Never argue with a man with a gun

Never tell a cop he can’t do something

Never volunteer

Never ask a question you don’t want to know the answer to

Never ask a question you don’t want to have to answer yourself

Survival is learning from your mistakes

Success is learning from the mistakes of others

It is better to be a responsible child than to be a responsible adult

There is no spoon


You can never have too many pairs of socks or underwear

Fear nothing

Remember everthing

Think before you speak or act

Wear sunscreen

P.S.- I may have stolen that last one.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

A shot of commonsense

I am not talking about the proverbial shot of commonsense. I am talking about a literal shot of commonsense. My life dream is to gather the best biochemists and geneticists of the world and lock them in a room until they can isolate the commonsense gene. (We all know it’s out there) Replicate it, formulate an injectable form and mass produce it. Distribution is another story. Chances are governments of the world will pay me not to distribute it. Who wants voters with commonsense, right? Either way I will be rich. Rich enough to buy my own island, then populate it with my friends, servants, some thirty odd beautiful women, all injected with commonsense. Every last one of them.

Anyway, enough of that pipe dream, until I can bring that dream to fruition I am going to provide you with a figurative shot of commonsense. Providing you with my version of that elusive get you through the day, keep you out of trouble, get things done, stop pissing people off substance known as commonsense. Pointing out flagrant stupidity where ever it shall rear its ugly head. This is by far not a complete manifesto, it may and probably will expand and narrow it’s focus on a semi-regular basis. As is necessary to stay one step of mentally challenged and the purveyors of manure it all its forms.

May the commonsense be with you.

Thursday, January 06, 2005

The New Beginning

Oringinally posted in Neverland

A Beginning....yes. New.....Maybe. Exciting.....probably not.

Not really feeling adventurous or creative today, hence the non-imaginative username, but you have to start somewhere.

Today was the first non-alcoholic lunch with Shaft. Not exciting but good. He is feeling great since being sober. I am only happy that I am not spending $200+ a week. My drinking schedule was not daily like his so I don't notice as much of a difference. I need to find my center and drive. There is something out there and I must find it. Baseball season is starting soon, and the Cubs are playing both the Yankees (at Yankee Stadium) and the Bo Sox (at Wrigley) which in and of it self gives me a reason to live. For those of you who do not like the Cubs you may kiss my ass. Both cheeks please.

Snow is for children. Children will play outside in the cold waist deep in snow until they cannot feel their feet or they are dragged inside. We the old people (over 18) would do anything to avoid having to trudge through even a in of nasty exhaust blackened slush. And I believe there is a point when even the beautiful pure white snow on the lawn looks like that because you know that when you reach the side walk or, dare I say it, the street our feet will be wet, our ankles splattered, the cuffs of our pants or the edge of our coats will be stained with exquisite white salt. I know sound like an evil curmudgeon but I spent a week in Hawaii, with friends who live there, in Nov. and the worst it did was rain and get down to about 70 degrees. Oh, the horror! I can live with that.

I dropped my $500 phone/PDA two nights ago and did not realize it until the friend I was with answered her phone and the voice on the other end said he had my phone. He apparently bought it for $5 from a bum. The bum I ignored as entered the drinking establishment I was currently in. If the idiot would have brought me the phone he would have made $20 instead of the measly five he procured from the well intentioned good Samaritan Chris. To whom I owe my schedule, my phone book, my work out log, and my ability to receive my email regardless of where I am at. Kudos to Chris. Chris who would not except more than $10 for his deed. He really only wanted to take $5 to make up for his expenditure but I only had a $10. I have to admit that a good number of my friends, if sold my phone and did not know that it was mine would sell it on ebay for a quite healthy profit. Can you fault their entrepreneurial spirit?

It is 5:30pm and I must decide what to do before going to work in 3 1/2 hours. Do I nap? Eat then nap? Nap then eat? Eat then do something productive? Or eat then watch a couple of episodes of Seinfeld on DVD? My money is on Seinfeld but sleep is always close behind.

Live Long and Prosper.....