small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: blast from the past....I'm walkin here

Wednesday, April 12

blast from the past....I'm walkin here







The stinkin government just finished up a study that showed if you decide to walk home from the bar shitfaced, you’re most likely to get hit by a car. And if you’re old and shit, the probability increases ten-fold. Nothing says ouch like drunken grandpa stepping off the curb in front of the fuckin bus, so sad and so fuckin funny at the same time. And you hunters should pay a mind to this too. .

I know more guy’s that have gotten themselves up in a tree blind whilst waiting on Bambi to waltz by and while waiting starting sipping on the sloe gin to keep em warm. And when it came time to climb down they were too fucked up to remember how. Then its all about how well do you bounce. Word.

Back in the day I used to walk from my house to Westport, I’d knock off a few, ok; more then a few then walk home. My problem was that at two in the fuckin morning I’m walking home following the only thing my busted ass could see, and that happened to be the yellow line in the middle of the street. That was a sight to fuck up the straights; there I am looking like a big-assed junked up Mr. T, cause back then I was all geared out like that, walking down the middle of the street like I owned it.

Cars and shit swerving to the left and right to avoid hitting me or better yet, just turning around and going back in the direction they came from. But the cops finally broke me of that shit; they pulled up next to me one night and asked me where was I going. In my loud voice I politely informed em that I was going home, thank you very much.
“Why you walking down the middle of the street?”
“because I’m too drunk to drive duh?”
Did I also mention that back in the day I carried a cane with me everywhere? By that time two more cop cars had pulled up and they had me standing on the sidewalk.
“Why do you carry the cane?”
“It keeps my hands out’a my pockets”
“What?! Get your big ass over here!”
By this time I’m getting patted down while the one chick cop is busy trying to see if the cane turned into something else. After much talk they figured out I was on the level, and more or less harmless, so they told me I could go on home. But not without a stern talking too about the dangers that come with walking down the street shitfaced looking like some big assed yak out’a the wilderness. And oh yeah, the forty-five dollar traffic ticket helped convince me of the error of my ways too.


"and the monkey flipped the switch"

7 Comments:

Blogger Ole Blue The Heretic said...

Please write a fucking book!

3:55 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That's why you should drive. K Sose

4:55 PM  
Blogger Xavier Onassis said...

I used to do the same thing (sorta), but on a 10-speed bike. Ride it from Brookside down to Westport, get drunk, try to get laid. If I got REALLY lucky, I loaded my bike into some chicks trunk (and by "bike" I mean dick and by "trunk" I mean ass) and I was all god to go.

Otherwise (more often than not), I had to pedal my drunk ass uphill all the way from Westport to Brookside. Stoppin' to piss in the bushes by some Catholic Church (it was always darkest there for some reason. Hmmmmmm?)

7:26 PM  
Blogger Sapphire said...

Sit boy.. Greg's story is much better than your's. Write the book damit. Do you know how many people would buy it...Just do the math charge 10 to 15 dollers for each book and for every person that knows you plus the people that read your blog each day...You would make a bundle...Wait even better write a whole series of books so they would keep come back for more.....Evermore

10:12 PM  
Anonymous battat13 said...

I'd buy it...love reading your stuff!

10:36 PM  
Blogger Xavier Onassis said...

obediently bitch-slapped.

i'll be quiet now. i promise.

please don't hit me again.

i'll be good.

10:23 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Who would have guessed?!?! Xavier wanting to stick it in her ass instead of somewhere else. Are you sure it was "chicks" Xavier? And...riding a bike to Westport to try to get laid - wow, you are cool. Did you have on your neato helmet and your socks tucked into your britches?

8:55 AM  

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