Sunday, April 30, 2006

What can I say?

Indian Girl made it over 48 hours without calling but then leaves this
3:52 message. Yeah, it's long but worth it. Grab some popcorn, or
better yet a beer, and have a seat and hang on for the ride.


I think she getting the point, but somehow makes me feel even more guilty.

Fucktards run amok

There are fucktards in this world. We all know there are fucktards in this world. They are now so prevalent in this world that they are no longer cause a sense of wonder and amazement if not shock and awe. 50 years ago some of the fucktard antics that are common place would have been two weeks worth of conversations at the local beauty parlor and malt shop. Today they barely cause a shake of the head and a muttered “fucktard”.

These fucktards are common people. Everday folks that are working at places a half a step above McDonald’s or collecting disability for burning themselves on the fry machine three years ago. And they do ricockulous things like take a check when robbing someone or look directly into the bank camera as you take off your ski mask. They do more common fucktard things while living in there fucktard world.

Things like somehow making it all the way to 62 years of age then thinking climbing a tree is a good idea. Then falling out of said tree in such a way to cause a concussion. But there are people above these things, smarter than these things. People like professors, doctors, theologians. Then there are the people who would never come in contact with these types of these things. People like the Carnegies, the Rockefellers, the Trumps, movie stars, rock stars. Or so you would think.

Earlier this week pansy ass heroin addicted never worked a hard day in his life Kieth Richards, yeah that Kieth Richards, fell out of a FUCKING PALM TREE. In a FOREIGN FUCKING COUNTRY.

*shakes head*

Fucktard.

Now that's funny, or is it?

Someone has decided that my recockulous life would make a recockulously funny comic strip.

Even I have to laugh.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Time's a tickin'

In more ways than one. I have to be fully packed and ready to move in 8 1/2 hours. And hopefully get some sleep in there some where. Where I don't know. I have 4 people confirmed to help me move. It is not an army but it is good.

The second countdown is also on. It has been 24 hours since there has been any communication between Indian Girl and myself. 48 more to go and this bubble should be ready to pop. She hasn't left a message yet but I know she will.

Friday, April 28, 2006

Okay, I know he's an idiot but this is funny



If this won't play right away, click on it and you can play it on the you tube site.

The Saga Continues

Okay so I am trying to diplomatically, nicely break up with Indian Girl. Not going to happen. Psychochicks get angry and cry, and go why, why, why? This is what they do. I know this. I have known this for a long time and is why I finally gave up psycho chicks for good. My problem is that this is a psycho chick from my past, from before I got smart. Also I never quite saw the psycho chick side until I went out with her and somehow I didn't run for my life. Now it is in danger.

I had a plan.

A good plan.

A plan that would a least show her that we are not very compatible and I am not what she is looking for and am not good relationship material.

I am moving this weekend. She has volunteered to help pack, to help move, to help do whatever will put her right next to me. I politely declined. My plan was to not call her all weekend. No matter what. Not even if she called. Not even if she called a hundred times. I have an excuse. I was moving. I didn't even have my phone with me most of the time. I would call Monday. Maybe Tuesday. She would be pissy and then we would have a conversation starter. I could end it.

No such luck. She called twice today and I didn't even listen to the voicemails. Until someone else left a message.

This is her first message.



FUCK. How can I be mean to a girl who just lost her job.

Then I got this message.



FUCK. How can I refuse to console a woman who just lost her job. How can I refuse her request.

Then genious struck me. There is one failsafe excuse. One thing no one can argue with. Children. My daughter, Monkey, is staying with me this weekend. But I am not picking her up until tomorrow. I left this part out. Actually I specifically stated that I was picking her up tonight. I got a But I really wanted to see you tonight.

Bad things never happen at good times. She can't blame me I am being a good dad. And what dad would have a woman sleep over with his teenage daughter in the house?

Now I have to go pack like a motherfucker. If any of you Chicagoans wanna come over and pack and drink all my liquor so I don't have to take it with let me know.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Can't win for losing

Okay the band-aid is still on, but I am more determined than ever to get it off. I met indian Girl at the bar last night adn we barely spoke for the first hour. We were playing pool, so it wasn't like we were just sitting and staring at each other. But we really didn't have anything to say. She had 3 drinks and was playing pool with the door man before I got there. I needed at least three drinks to relax and loosen up and start talking. What did she want to talk about?

"I'm saving up to take us to Vegas" she says. I think I did a good job at hiding my disbelief, but maybe she was just too drunk to notice.

In the can't win for losing category......We were at the bar that I took Red to on Monday. And guess what? Same bartender. So what you say? Red and I were making out half the time we were there. Now the bartender was as drunk as we were on Monday so maybe she truly didn't recognize me, or maybe she didn't think it was her place to say anything but she was pretty friendly with Indian Girl. Part of me wishes she would have said something to Indian Girl. Now Indian Girl knows I am dating other people and has known from the get go. But I thought that if she would hear about it she would get upset, sulk, get super quiet, which would lead to the what' wrong conversation, which would lead to a discussion on how I am not able to fufill her needs and that she should move on. No such luck.

Then to drive me crazy she got even drunker and asked me every 3 min during whatever story she just couldn't stop telling, if I wanted to go to Vegas with her and didn't that sound like fun.

Loads.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Missed Call or Missed Calling?

I don't know who she works for or what she wanted. I am sure it is a creditor, so I didn't call back.

What I do know is she missed her calling in the phone sex industry.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

My Friends

My friends are an interesting bunch, and few as interesting as Rico.

Rico Suave

Rico Suave is a nickname I have given him for this blog because his real nickname is too close to his real name. And we with Common Sense try to preserve the anonymity of the drunk and idiotic.

Rico is not a pretender. He is not trying to be Rico Suave. He really is a good looking, smooth talking, fun guy who is almost as good at finding a party in a convent as Shaft. This is probably where the difference between Rico and Shaft becomes evident. Rico even though quite capable of getting a nun to shed her clothes, he wouldn’t do it. Despite most of his actions, I believe he truly is afraid of hell. Shaft on the other hand would come home the next morning dancing and wearing a habit.

Shaft is fun to be with. Rico is fun to watch. Rico realizes most of the time that he is a caricature and enjoys it, the rest of the time he too drunk and just does. He gets himself into the craziest situations, and is well known for inviting more than one woman to the same place at the same time. And still going home with one of them, or sometimes with someone else all together. If he could remember half these adventures his memoirs would be amazing.

A distinct feature of Rico is that he always has a signature line. And he is smart enough to change it up once in a while. His favorite line when I met him was “Why you bringing up old shit” He would be hitting on someone we knew. “Rico, where’s your girlfriend?” she would say. “Why you bring up old shit” “She isn’t old shit.” “We broke up” “I saw you with her two days ago” “We broke up. Stop bringin’ up old shit.”
Anything you would mention that he didn’t want to talk about he would say “Why you bringin’ up old shit.”
Then we had to put up with “BAM” for a while. Cute girl walks by “BAM!” You say something funny or inappropriate “BAM!” It was a while before I found out that he stole it from Emeril. Rico was out of work at the time, and apparently spending too much time watching the Food Network.
For a while he only answered the phone "What’s up Bitch". Once I called and he said Hello and I thought I had the wrong number. He was with his daughter.
Another favorite of mine was “imaginate” (pronounced ee-ma-he-na-tay)which is Spanish for imagine that. “Shaft and I went out last night and got Whacked” Imaginate. He would always find the funniest moment to slip that in.
I could go on for hours with anecdotes about Rico and his drunken adventures. But I will give you just one more.
I used to throw a party every year around my birthday. Two days before one of these party’s Rico came over to help me move furniture and clean up. The problem with this was that I already purchased all the alcohol for the party. He came over because in addition to wanting to help he was broke and wanted to keep the night low key. I agreed. A 12 pack of corona, for him, and a ½ a bottle of Habana Club, for me, later the house was clean and we were hammered. The empty stomach drunk will get you every time. So at this point we wanted to do what most people want to do when they are hammered. Go drinking. We knew that shaft was at the restaurant he bartended at so we could drink there cheap or he would pick up the tab or both. Rico drove because he had his sister’s car and it was smaller and parking sucked where we were going. We arrived fifteen minutes after Shaft and CDG left. So we went next door to a bar that was open late and had a pool table. We arrived and within 10 minutes we were playing pool with two women we had never met. I of course got the fat friend. To her credit she wasn’t really fat, just not as good looking as her friend and for what ever reason I was being picky and anti-social and did not flirt as much as I could have. Within 45 minutes the girls were leaving Rico Suave in tow. Imaginate. He gave me his sister’s car keys, we bid each other Buena Suerte, and he left. I stuck around another 15-20 minutes and played another game of pool flirting with someone who was probably much more aware of how drunk I was, than I was. I started to realize this and cut bait when some guy bought me a drink for winning the game. I have no idea how I did that. You know it is time to go when someone hands you a drink and you can’t possibly imagine taking even one sip. It has happened to me maybe only three or four times but when it happens, it is time to GO. So I went. Outside. To realize that I didn’t see my car. And that I hadn’t brought my car. And that I wasn’t real sure what kind of car Rico’s sister drove. If it wasn’t for the fact that his sister was in an accident the day before and he showed me the huge dent in the passenger side of the car I would have never been able to identify it. I made it home in one piece. Please no lectures. I know. The next morning I was wakened by my cell phone ringing. It stopped ringing. I closed my eyes. It rang. I did not even open my eyes. My house phone rang. The answering machine did what I was not willing to do. It picked up. “It’s Rico call me back.” The cell rings. I pick it up, and this greets me from the other end “Where the fuck are you” “Jackass, I am at home. Where the Fuck are you. I wasn’t the one who took off with strange women.” “Dude, I am at their house alone. And I’m Puerto Rican. Are they Stupid? If it was Shaft he would have a truck pulled up back by now. This is a nice house.” I like to think that Shaft wouldn’t do that but we are never quite sure. Hustler by nature, Criminal by law.
I went and picked his drunk ass up. The story went something like this. He went home with them and got into the hot tub with cute short haired girl and things went on from there. He woke up to the other girl saying that she had to leave for a while for a meeting but he could stay and she would be back. So he asked “Where’s um, um……..(pointing to the other side of the bed)” “Barbara?” “Yeah Barbara” “She flew back to San Francisco this morning, remember?” “Yeah, Yeah.” That’s when the phone calls to me started.

I hate telling stories about Rico because they make him sound like a womanizing drunk, but they are so entertaining. The good news is that he is no longer a drunk. He sobered up in April. He fell off the wagon for about a month but has been clean again for about three weeks now and seems much more committed now. He wants to go to 90 meetings in 90 days and be celibate for 90 days. Buena Suerte.

I knew Rico for a year and a half before I ever saw him sober. The transformation was amazing. He is a very cool very intelligent loyal friend when he is sober. I hope he stays that way for a long time.

Everybody wish Rico a happy birthday.

This is what a message from Rico usually sounds like.

this is an audio post - click to play


This is a rare longer message from Rico

this is an audio post - click to play

Audioblogger vs. Audioblog

this is an audio post - click to play

It works, it really works......for now

this is an audio post - click to play

Sunday, April 23, 2006

They are so killing me.

I have been trying to record an audioblog post all afternoon and it keeps fucking with me. It takes ten tries for it to accept my log in then there is a 90 second pause before I get a record tone, so I record and it won't accept the # key at the end and it then disconnects me and doesn't post my recording.

Sheesh.

And I thought this new home was going to be stress free.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Indian Girl in Action

This is my first audiopost so bear with me. Those of you who have followed me from over here know a about Indian Girl. Those who haven't can read about Indian Girl.

this is an audio post - click to play


Yes, Whatsername, I am going to just rip the band aid off.

Question Time

I stole this from tony who stole it from Binsk

Put your music player on shuffle. Press forward for each question. Use the song title as the answer to the question. Post on your blog.

Will I get far in life?
4-ize- Ludacris

How do my friends see me?
Don’t make me wait too long- Barry White

Where will I get married?
Slow Dance- John Coltrane

What is my best friend’s theme song?
You Learn- Alainis Morrisette

What is the story of my life?
Bite to Break the Skin- Senses Fail

What was high school like?
Sabbath Bloody Sabbath- Black Sabbath

How can I get ahead in life?
El Amor Que Te Di- El Gran Combo de Peurto Rico

What is the best thing about me?
I am the Bullgod- Kid Rock

How is today going to be?
Large Amounts- Ludacris

What is in store for this weekend?
Passive/Aggressive- Fun Lovin’ Criminals

What song describes my parents?
Diamond in the Back- Ludacris

My grandparents?
Closer- Nine Inch Nails

How is my life going?
Bombin’ the L- Fun Lovin’ Criminals

What song will they play at my funeral?
Take Me Away - Avril Lavigne

How does the world see me?
Player- DMX

Will I have a happy life?
I do Not Want This- Nine Inch Nails

What do my friends really think of me?
Swamp Music- Lynard Skynard

Do people secretly lust after me?
A Tu Vera- Gypsy Kings

How can I make myself happy?
Agua de Beber- Antonio Carlos Jobim

What should I do with my life?
Sneakin’ out of the Hospital- Beastie Boys

Will I ever have children?
Check It Out- John Mellencamp

What is some good advice?
Get Back- Ludacris

What is my signature dancing song?
R.O.C.K. in the USA- John Mellencamp

What do I think my current theme song is?
The Impression That I Get- Mighty Mighty Bosstones

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
Shame- Matchbox Twenty

What type of men/women do you like?
Old Devil Moon- Frank Sinatra

What did you think of this meme?
Makin’ Whopee- Frank Sinatra