Sunday, December 23, 2007

Fucked up Fridays

Woke up Friday at 9:47am to my Dad's where the fuck are you phone call. I was supposed to be at the funeral home for my Aunt's funeral at 9:30am. And I was a pall bearer. Fuck! They couldn't have said it better in 4 Weddings and a Funeral. Fuck! I was showered, shaved, dressed in a suit and out the door in under 25 minutes. Jumped in the car and headed for.....the gas station. The warning screen in my car said Bajo Nivel de Gasolina. Fuck. Drive to the nearest gas station to find a large piece of machinery digging up the earth. Maybe I should pay more attention when I drive that way. That way I wouldn't drive out of my way because it's closer. So now I am driving further out of my way because now the next closest gas station is further from the expressway. I could have gotten back to Division and gone to a gas station near the on ramp but my gas gauge isn't just on low, it is on holy fuck you stupid mother fucker you are riding on fumes and I am going to laugh at you when you run out of gas low.

I pump my damn gas from what has to be the slowest gas pump known to man. My cousin calls she is lost. My dad calls, how close are you? 45 minutes. Dead silence. See you at the church. OK. I make it there in 30.

I am surprised to see that my cousin and her family are actually dressed up. Well dressed up for them. At the wake the day before my cousin was wearing whatever she fell into that day, including gym shoes and no socks. Her oldest son was wearing jeans and some t-shirt with a dragon on it. Her daughter sweat pants and a sweat shirt with stains on it. And the youngest son who is six but cannot speak was in what appeared to be a pajama top and jeans.

At the funeral my cousin actually managed a dress, not a nice dress but at least a dress. She was still in gym shoes and no socks. Her husband was in a bright green dress shirt and an almost matching tie. No jacket. He probably chose this because the oldest son was wearing his nicer more appropriately subdued blue dress shirt and matching tie. The jacket was probably also dad's, gauging from the size. Oh and gym shoes. Everybody owns at least one pair of not gym shoes don't they.

If I would have written this on Friday I would have barely alluded to the white trashiness of my cousin and her family because I was a little to preoccupied.

After the lunch that was a very nice place in a suburb I have never heard of, I headed home in Friday afternoon traffic. I was a good forty plus miles from home sweet home. By then the oh fuck I can't believe I'm late adrenaline rush had long passed and the general anxiety and nervousness of attending a family member's funeral was fading and the effects of the just consumed large meal and only 8-9 hours of sleep in 3 days were taking effect. The radio seemed vaguely distant and my eyelids were fairly heavy and I actually remember thinking I hope I don't fall asleep.

Just before I RAN INTO A FUCKING PICKUP TRUCK! FUCK! Double fuck! That'll wake you up in a hurry. I first slam the car into park and then back into drive and pull over to the fucking shoulder. I really don't need this right now. As the pickup pulled forward I noticed that there was no apparent damage to his truck. What I also noticed but did not appreciate until I got out of the car was the 9-12 inches of steel trailer hitch. That must have had a good time tearing into the front of my car. My grill looked like Leon Spinks after going a good 15 rounds. And my hood was lifted up like a bad toupee on a windy day! Fuck. Like I need this. Did I say that already. Fuck!

The good thing is that I didn't fuck up this guys truck. Luckily I was able to say good bye to him with an apology and a handshake. Now I am going to have to pay to fix my damn car. Don't ask me why I don't have collision insurance I don't have an answer.


I know how I am going to pay for the damn car. I just don't know how I am going to do the things I was planning to do with the money.

It is going to be a grand new year.

Merry Christmas

Friday, December 21, 2007

The Rest of the Story

Have you ever had to go to 2 holiday parties in the same day. 12 hours apart. That 12 hours really doesn't give you the recovery time you would think it would.

The first party was for the night shift at work, mostly put together by the nurses but there were techs, registration people, myself, and the doc that was on shift that night. I was scheduled to get off at 6am the nurses at 7am. They made it there before I did. We had a semi-decent night until Joliet IL decided to vomit on us at about 430am. I finished up at 830, and was quite ready for a drink by that time.

About 10 of us showed up, Me, Matador, Mama Goose, Rondog, Danimal, Jaybird, Kathy, H, Blake, Natalia, and The Songster. All ready for a good drink, and good food. And we got both. Writing this I realize I could of taken way more pictures than I did. Of people and of the spread. Matador brought two pans full of roast beef and one of turkey, and rolls for sammiches. I had two beef sandwiches, potato salad and quiche and said I would have turkey sammich on the second round. Matador gave me a quizzical look and said dude, pointing at the sandwich in my hand, that is round two. "No it's not," I say "I didn't stop eating." "If you keep going without a break it is still the same round" "Kinda like with sex"

In addition to the eating drinking and joking around, we played Left, Right, Center.

To start the game, you need three LCR cubes, at least three players, and three chips for each player. Coins can be used in place of chips for additional players. After determining which player starts the game, the first player rolls three cubes. The number of L's, C's or Dots rolled dictate where the player's chips go.

* The number of L's indicates the amount of chips to be passed to the player on the left.
* The number of R's indicates the amount of chips to be passed to the player on the right.
* The number of C's indicates the amount of chips to be passed to the center or "pot".
* The DOTS are neutral and players neither pass nor place chips in the pot for any DOTS rolled.

When a player has only 1 or 2 chips, he rolls only 1 or 2 cubes. If a player has no chips, he is still in the game, but passes the cubes to the next player. The last player with chips is the winner, does not roll the cubes and wins the center "pot".

Those are the official rules. We follow those rules with two exceptions. 1- We play with dollar bills instead of the provided chips. 2-We require that the last person with money rolls a dot to win. If he/she rolls an L or R the money moves around the table. If he/she rolls a C the money goes into the pot and everyone re-antes and we start over until someone wins getting the money from the new pot being added to the old pot. This can make for some interesting games.

Speaking of interesting games. A month or two ago Matador, Mama Goose and Rondog decided to up the ante given they were playing with only three people. First with five dollar bills, then twenties, making the pot $90 each round. Well as fate would have it the pot rolled over twice and Mama Goose went home with $360. Nice work, eh?

Well, yesterday Paulie, the owner of the bar, was suggesting playing LRC with Benajamins. Needless to say, no one took him up on it. What we did settle on was LRC with Fives. With 8 people. That's $120 floating around in the pot. Paulie almost took it but Jaybird pulled out the win. The lost of $15 a piece in a matter of 5-8 minutes dulled everyone's appetite for LRC so we moved down to Ones and played several rounds with 8 people. Hilarity ensued. In one game the last dollar went to the left four times before coming back right once and landing on Mama Goose. Who managed to win 4 pots in a row. Then we took a break to concentrate on drinking. Which we did as some of the less hard core drinkers and those with responsibilities slowly left the premises leave me, Matador, Mama Goose Jaybird and Caveman to keep the faith and drink for the cause. Another Co-worker PornStar showed up to give us an influx of new blood. Which spurred a round of phone calls by the Matador to try and increase the size of the party. Which lead us to the discovery that his ears get quite red when is talking to a girl he likes.

It was about this time (11a or noon, I think) that one of the bartender's mentioned that we weren't drinking at our usual breakneck pace. There is nothing like inspirational words to get you back on your game. Matador and I commenced drinking like it was our job. Matador claimed that he was drinking fast the whole time but I am pretty sure we were at the same pace the whole time.

Have you ever noticed that the amount of money you put in the Juke Box is directly proportional to the number of drinks in your system. I bet the Jaybird dropped a good twenty playing songs. But his selection was good so no complaints.

Influenced by a good soundtrack and increased alcohol levels we played a few more rounds of Left Right Center. More laughter. More won rounds by Mama Goose. Mamy more drinks and more checking of the watch by me. In addition to the Night Shift Christmas Party, the physician group I work for was having it's Holiday Dinner last night. Actually they had it two nights so everyone could go. I was planning on leaving but everyone kept buying me more drinks and then after about 8 or so rounds of LRC, I won one and feeling bad about taking money and leaving I played another round. Which I won. Sometimes you can't win for losing. I had another drink on the table due to the apparent universal urge to buy everyone another round. And at $2.50 u-call-it's it wasn't hard to do. At one point in the day Mama Goose bought the entire bar a drink and it only cost her $20. Not being one to leave a man behind I pick up my drink and begin to pound it when my eyes almost popped of my head. I made a face and said wow. Caveman with a big smirk on his face asks You like that? Fucking Bastard. You bought that round? He laughs. Caveman has gotten in to the habit of only ordering me triples whenever he orders me a drink. I choke down the drink. With my head now spinning I jump into my car and head back to the call room at the hospital.

Matador wearing his new Christmas Present

Mama Goose and her winnings



Mama Goose and more Winnings


I shower and change in my suit which I luckily had the forethought to bring with me the night before. Somehow while showering I managed to get plenty of water on the floor soaking the only pair of socks I had with me. I remembered a change of underwear, but not a change of socks. Now in a suit and dress shoes sans socks I head out of the building stopping the the doctor's lounge to google map directions to the restaurant. So I am sitting in there. loaded and sockless, surrounded by attending physicians. I have never wanted gum or sock so much in my entire life. I scooted forward under the desk as much as possible to hide my hillbilly dress code. I got directions and bolted. Not having my ID I had to walk the long way out of the hospital. Past the ER. Not my preferred move. I of course end up seeing people I work with. Luckily when people who only see you in pajamas see you in a suit, they aren't looking at your feet. I get my ass into the car and make a beeline for Wal-Mart which is only a mile away. My parking karma was still intact and I got a parking space only 3-4 spaces away from the door. And promptly fell asleep. I think I even laid the seat back. Why I don't know. The emergency nap light must have gone off in my head.

To update you on the time line, I was up from about noon on Tuesday started work at 9pm, worked 11 1/2 hours. And then went drinking.

I had left the bar between 5-5:30 and got out of the hospital about 6 or so. Was supposed to be at the dinner at 6:30

I woke up at 7. Now with a sense of panic and confusion, I really don't remember going to sleep, I go tearing into Wal-Mart in search of socks. I now know why I usually pay a lot for socks. The cheap socks suck ass. Major ass. I get back out to the parking lot and somehow remember where it was I parked my damn car. I head toward Naperville thinking about whether I should even bother at this point, being on pace to show up about 1 1/2 hours late. But that really isn't anything new for me. Luckily the alcohol in my system allowed me to shout down the logic in my system and I continued on my way. I arrive at Sullivan's at 8pm. As it turned out the restaurant was really busy and they had only say down 10-15 minutes before my arrival. The main disadvantage to arriving late to this type of function is you don't get to chose your seat. The only seat available was at the head of the table and next to the boss' wife. Oh, Joy. I have only met her a few times before and have never said anything other than hello to her. Mainly because she always seems to have quite the sour disposition. I was not expecting a great time and vowed to keep my intoxicated mouth shut. I sat I ordered a drink and promptly moved to the other end of the table to tak to people worth talking to. Luckily the other end of the table was quite far as there were about 25 people in our group.

The way cute waitress found me with my drink and as she presented it to me said "The bartender poured it a little strong so if you want me to make it a tall I will. My look must have said something to the effect of "You gotta be fucking kidding me" because she said "or you could just thank me" "Or I could give you a kiss on each cheek" She laughed an oh so cute laugh and moved on. Can you tell I was completely enamored. Actually all our waitresses were hot, Chelsea not the hottest of the group but definitely the best personality and smile. I go back my seat make small talk with Boss' wife and Sir Lancelot's wife when Major Dan (not to be confused with Danimal) asks me about my car keys. This is a good story. Just one of many good stories that seems not to make it to my blog. I move over to him and his wife to regale them with the part of the story they were unaware of. Just as I was finishing the story our waitress kicked me out of that area because I was standing between the wall and the table which is their only route to serve that side of the table. About this time she asks me how I like my drink. I tell her it is good but not strong. She gives me a look. Dinner comes. It is delicious. 12 oz of perfectly cooked cow carcass. Covered in Gorgonzola cheese (a first for me, I definitely recommend it) and garlic butter which is by far one of the greatest inventions of man. I drool, I eat. I start talking about one of my greatest regrets. About 6 months ago I was at this same restaurant for a dinner sponsored by a pharmaceutical company, read free. The special on that particular night was a 16 oz filet covered with all kinds of fatty goodness that I can't remember at that moment but I remember that the description not only made me drool but my stomach growl. Until I heard the price. $65. For a steak. I am not sure why I cared when big business was picking up the tab. But Sixty Five Dollars. For a steak. It is this point into the story that I say For sixty five dollars it should be brought to me by a naked woman. At which Boss' wife gives me a look and Sir Lancelot's wife says "That's disgusting" I'm sorry did I say that out loud. I quickly finish the steak story and change the subject to something less visual and less offensive. Who brought me to a family restaurant? My other folly was discussing alcohol in front of boss' wife. When the waitress, my future wife, brings me my second drink, I take a sip and say now that's a drink. Chelsea, I sure that's her name, said I ordered a SoCo rocks with a splash of coke because that apparently how you like it. I go on to talk about how I have too many bartender friends and the best and worst thing about having friends who are bartenders.

They pour really strong drinks. Chelsea brought me several last night.

I manage to have a very pleasant conversation with Boss's wife about her son. I am now his biggest fan at this point. She told me at least two really cool stories about him that I will skip because it is 2:47am, I have been typing for over and hour, and I have to be up at 7am for a funeral. Why do they always make funerals so early in the morning. Is is so the rest of us wish we were dead?

The only time I drop the F bomb or any swear word at all was the Boss' fault. He mentioned Fukudome, the Cubs newest player. Why the the Cubs would acquire a player whose name phonetically is Fuck-You-Do-Me I will never know. And I said so. I think my profanity was excused by the women. Both the Boss and wife repeated my pronunciation. The boss with more enthusiasm and sense of humor than his wife.

Soon after dinner was over those with children and no stamina started to get up to leave. There was Iceberg and his wife, Songster and his wife, Clark Kent and his wife- who is a hottie by the way, Major Dan, Sir Lancelot and their wives also left. Which left us with Boss, Boss' wife, ChrisSand, Tammaaaaaaaaay and her husband, and creepy doc. We consolidated and talked for a little longer and then Boss, wife and creepy doc left and the rest of us went to the bar where we were told we could smoke cigars but it was last call so we could only get one drink in.

We found more accomodating facilities at Features around the corner. Where it was both open and cigar friendly. In more way than one. Not only do they allow cigars, they have 14 foot ceiling and I wasn't able to smell the vile thing from only 5 feet away. I hate cigars but hate that the government can tell you where you can and cannot smoke. I hope this law that is going into effect Jan 1 gets repealed. I don't have any true hope for that though because now that it is law it would be political suicide for any politician to try to oppose it.

Anyway the husband's of the two women who I wanted to talk to the least turned out to be quite pleasant to talk to. Luckily the ladies sat by themselves while the men sat it the comfy chairs smoking and drinking. As it should be. So after yet three more drinks, I was able to not only find my car but the expressway and my house. I think I was way more tired than drunk at this point pace having slowed considerably.

As soon as I arrived home I stripped off my suit and did a face plant into my bed.

And that my dears, is the rest of the story.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007


 - Photo Hosted at Buzznet

If I haven't mentioned it, I am currently 100% Bat-shit crazy addicted to Heroes. Borrowed Season 1 from brother around Thanksgiving and it sat next to the TV for at least a week. After finally deciding to sit my ass down and watch it. Six hours later I felt like one of Bennet's abductee's. At least I knew what happened and what happened was Holy Fuck. The first episode really draws you in. And keeps you sucked in through the first 3-4 episodes. Around 4-5 it kind of levels off and you are just waiting for what you know this show can be. And in episode 8 or 9 you get it. And after that it is hold on to you hats folks the ride is about to begin. I think I watched the last eight episodes in one day. Or at least what I thought were the last eight episodes. I got to episode 22 and thought what? this is too measley pedestrian boring, what I expected to be the last episode. Yeah my jackass Brother gave me the series without Disk 7. I have yet to kill him for this but it is definitely on my to-do list.

Finally got to watch the last episode at Matador's place because he has Netflix and 17 hours of downloadable video a month. Last episode kicked so much ass I drove home signed up for Netflix, they are currently offering unlimited downloads, and promptly watched 3 episodes of Season 2. Only 3 seasons because it was at least 4 in the fucking morning at this point and even batshit crazy vampires like me need to sleep occasionally.

My official review of Heroes Season 1

Fantastic, stunning, imaginative, blah, blah, blah, that is what everyone says.

Favorite character of Season 1: Hiro. Hands down. No one makes you laugh or cheer like Hiro.

Most hated character of Season 1: No brainer, Sylar. But the networks now that hating a character will draw you in as much as loving a character. Especially when you know half way through the season that he is going to get his ass kicked.

Most whiny, get over it already character(s) of Season 1: Parkman, Nikki. Come on people grow some balls already.

The character you actually love to hate: Noah Bennet

Most improved Character of Season 1: Peter Patrelli

I was going to continue with season 2 but it is time to eat, and we all know how much I love to eat.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007


Last Saturday I met up with Rico. I was supposed to meet him at his work Christmas Party at 9pm. As my last post alluded to, I was not even ready to leave the house until almost 10. It was as I was getting the last of my shit together that my phone rings. It is Rico. The party is lame. It's about time my procrastination paid off. He will call me back when they figure out a new destination. I pour myself another god awful Rum and Sprite Zero. Why I didn't switch to SoCo in an attempt to improve the taste of the drink and preserve my oh so limited supply of Habana Club.

The call comes. The answer is La Pena, an Ecuadorian Restaurant on the northwest side of Chicago. Rico was with his cousin, Ritchie Rich, and A, a woman he works with. I always been a great fan of Latin music and was not disappointed. We only had appetizers but they were excellent. Would definitely go back for dinner. Ritchie Rich and I thought Rico's friend was cute but not gorgeous. That was until Ritchie Rich had a couple of drinks, then she was the most gorgeous girl in the world. And he couldn't stop telling her or me this. She danced with him a few times and danced with Rico. She even got me up there once to dance Merengue. It has been so long since I danced to that music. I need to get back into shape. Latin dancing with definitely build up your legs and endurance.

It really is funny to watch someone fall off the cliff. One minute Ritchie Rich was lucid, maybe a little buzzed but lucid and having normal conversation, then I blinked and he was loaded and gushing all over this girl. She was a fun person and worth hanging out with but watching him was hilarious.

I only got four pictures instead of the planned twenty, but they didn't have SoCo so I had to drink Vodka Seven's all night which meant I was drinking slow.

ghettofabulous - Photo Hosted at Buzznet

A and Rico - Photo Hosted at Buzznet

A and Rico - Photo Hosted at Buzznet

Shiny lips - Photo Hosted at Buzznet

Saturday, December 08, 2007

New Rules

Start early. I was supposed to meet Rico at 9p. I have moved from fashionably late to where the fuck is this guy.

Never mix good rum with diet sprite out of desperation. Drinkable but not good.

Post more bitch.

Plan ahead

Buy more shirts. You can never have too many good shirts.

Ditto sheets.

Download and post your pics the day you take them regardless of how drunk/hungover you are. I hope to take at least 20 pics tonight to add to the 200 or so I have accquired over the past two weeks.

Smack Matador more. That which doesn't kill you only serves to make you stronger.

Never pass up the opportunity to eat a Picante burrito