small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: Sorry folks, my insomnia is making me into seven kinds of a loopy muthafucker, so instead of halfassing it, here’s an old post from back in 2003

Thursday, July 27

Sorry folks, my insomnia is making me into seven kinds of a loopy muthafucker, so instead of halfassing it, here’s an old post from back in 2003

My stinkin upstairs neighbors were playing the fuckin raver music all night and I couldn’t sleep for shit. It was one of those deals where I couldn’t find their phone number and didn’t feel like getting dressed to go bitch em out. I did have a session that lasted for five minutes where I seriously thought about grabbing my shotgun and going to their door buckassed nekked. But I thought about the image that that’ll send to the cops, plus think of all the little children.

So I relented and hunkered down in bed and at last went to sleep. But because of all that I’m in a bit of a foul mood today. I used to thrive living on four or five hours of sleep a night, but the past few years I’ve really come to love my sleep. Ball droppage and getting old, some kind of bitch huh, but since I’m in a foul mood how bouts we sweat the small stuff for a while?

Oh, before I goes off on a tear, I was at the Hurricane yesterday talking to the bartender when my pal Lumpy pulled up on the sidewalk and hopped off his bike and came in to knock back a few. Now this was a pretty picture, here’s Lumpy, big guy, tattooed from head to toe, sporting the latest in oy boy fashion wear, hopping off a bright red moped wearing a Kaiser helmet.

Then later our buddy Brock pulls up on his moped looking like a thinner version. So I’m buying a round of shots to make the boy’s feel manlier when I see this huge rack across the street. We all bum rush the windows and there’s this stinkin hot brunette walking wearin a halter top that’s holding up the best looking set I’ve seen in a long while. I’m looking, then its like, “hey, I know that chick”. It turned out to be the stressed out Italian stripper ex-roommate, who’s been calling me almost every night for the past week.

I had to go sit back down cause I wasn’t quite ready to talk to her in person yet. It just kind’a knocked me back cause I haven’t seen her in a few years and all I can say is damn, I used to shack up with that body for years and I’m still alive. We’ll hook up back up sooner then later, and then I’m gonna knock one over the wall if you know what I’m sayin?

Which brings me to this, do you know the Man’s trying to push thru a new rape law in some states? It’s the just say no law, and it means that if you and some chick are popping the brush and she says “you ain’t fuckin me right; get your stinkin ass up off me”. And you figure it’s crazy talk and keep on keeping on, she can have you hit with rape charges. Because even if the sex is consensual between the both of you but halfway thru the deed, she decides enough’s enough, and you don’t unass quick enough to her satisfaction she can get you charged with a very serious crime. I see some very bad shit coming out’a this one.

And last night I’m watching a car commercial where the main theme is about come see us, we’ll treat you like family. As if! What family are they talking about huh? A family where the evening’s entertainment is sandbagging gramps? I’ve had it up to here hearing people talk about treating each other like family. Come to our restaurant, we’ll treat you like family.

The airline that treats you like family. We care about you because you’re family. Family fuck this! Always beware of stranger’s that smile in your face whilst slipping the knife into your back. Plus I so fuckin hate overly friendly sales people, “hi, can I help you, have a lovely day why don’t you”? Now don’t get me wrong, I dig courteous and helpful people, it’s just the ones that suffer from the Quiktrip syndrome.

You know, when you walk into a convenience store at O’dark-thirty in the fuckin morning and some whizzer behind the counter greets you with a chirpy hello. And to make it worse the happy Nazi bastards insist on chatting as you stumble thru the store. “Sure is a fine morning, hey, how about those Royals? Need a roll with that java?” Fuckin Christ in heaven, why can’t they just shut the fuck up and stand there? But maybe it just me being an antisocial bastard…….ah fuck it.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"


Blogger LL said...

So I've read the stripper chronicles and I don't recall you writing that you finally DID tap that ass. So?

7:19 PM  

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