i like fake racks
working at a gym has it perks. for example the mom with the fake rack (wearing a tank top) that just talked to me for 10 minutes. however, for each time that happens, there are 20 fat, old, scary, angry, cranky, nasty women (also wearing tank tops) that talk/complain to me. not so enjoyable.
tiger tiger woods y'all
i attempted to post something yesterday morning, but damn blogger wouldn't let me. i obviously had nothing important to say, so really it's no big loss. however, this does tend to kill time at work, which it what it's really all about. for that, i was angry.
on a plus note i was able to play golf yesterday for the first time this season. it was the first time the sun had been out in months, and i decided to take advantage. should i have been doing something more responsible, undoubtably, but fuck that son. it was golf time. my friend hot dog and i went. eventually i will post something as to why he is named hot dog, but there is no time for that now. he played good b/c he is a total prick. i played piss poor b/c i am also a total prick, but i suck at golf. my feet are killing me b/c we had to walk the course. golf cleats, not good for walking long distances. the course was almost completely under water due to the torrents of rain we've gotton over the past week. even with all my complaints it was still good times, and golf is better than no golf. i will not get into golf specifics for the mere fact i don't want to bore my already non existant readers that may or may not be golfers. jerks.
i will say this, if i ever see the ass clown that was ahead of us again i will beat him to death with my extra pitching wedge. (which i should remember to take out the bag when i am walking the course b/c my bag weighed a metric ton by the 12th hole). he was by himself, with no one ahead of him, yet he still managed to hold us up. shitbird. on the plus side, he lost his driver cover on the course. we saw it, yet didn't pick it up hoping it was his. we found out it was his in the parking lot when he asked if we'd seen it. we said we hadn't at the same time without ever skipping a beat. it's nice knowing someone so well that you know he is going to lie to someone about the same thing you are.
i have been to hell, i spell it DMV. anyone who's been there knows precisely what i mean.
that is a Primus quote. Primus is one of the most underrated bands of the 90's. the lead singer and bassist, les claypool, is unbelievable. compared to him i truly suck. so do you. do yourself a favor, try to suck less and get yourself a Primus CD. i would make a link to one, but i don't know how. once again, i suck.
there is a point to this. i was at the DMV yesterday for about an hour. not too bad considering how long i've been there on other occasions, but still not good. i don't know how your particular DMV is, but all the one's i've been to in Dirty Jerz are pretty much the same.....horrible. people go there to die. there is one in particular set up with all the chairs against the walls. there is actually a long black grease stain along the wall from people putting their heads against it. just the thought of that makes me want to dry heave. i know it's widely joked about, but what brings these type of people out in droves to the DMV? more importantly, am i one of these people b/c i was there too?
no, i am not one of these people. these are my reasons. i usually mail in my check for registration, surcharges, etc. this one would have been late if i hadn't, hence my appearance. i don't have any visable tattoos. i actually have 2 tattoos, but they are hidden b/c i am not trash. i don't have bad facial hair. i will grow a goatee from time to time, but it is well kept. i am not covered in dirt/filth. i shower on a daily basis. i am not a dirty dirty foreigner. i speak english. i don't talk in a volume unfit for a wind tunnel. i don't have 7 kids running around and screaming at the top of their lungs. i am prepared when they (finally) call my number. i don't ask stupid questions at the counter. i take a maximum of 4 mintes at said counter. most of that time is them moving slowly. i don't curse every other word. the list could really keep going, but i see fit to stop it here.
so now that i've established why i am not like the rest of the DMV crowd, what is it that brings them there? why does every inbred, white trash, black trash, dirty foreigner, ignorant, dumb ass fuck end up there? any input would be helpful.
get in my belly!!
the chick that just came totally has an eating disorder. she is about 20-21ish and kinda cute, other than the fact her face is drawn in and her legs look like that of a war victim. but hey, you gotta keep the weight off somehow. i don't judge. i'm not sure if she's a puker or just doesn't eat, but something is wrong. she'll do hours of cardio too. it's awesome. would i be a dick if i told her it looks like she gained some weight over the weekend? cause really want to.
will it ever be sunny and/or warm?
the forecast for that question is no. no it won't. one more miserable monday. one more day i walk into work both freezing and wet. what the fuck? i need to move.
went bowling on friday night with about 12 friends. good times. for those of you that don't bowl, you are fucking losers, b/c bowling is sweet. those of you that do bowl know what i'm talking about. and for that we are kindred spirits. did i mention it was cosmic (aka laser light) night? did i mention there were smoke machines? did i mention there were high school girls? maybe i should. it was cosmic (aka laser light) night. also, there were smoke machines and high school girls. actually the high school girls were not even good looking, but still, they were there. i brought the woman anyway, as if it matters. 16 will get you 20. did i mention that we brought our own burned CD for the ultimate bowling experience? b/c we did. it included in no particular order:
whoop there it is-tag team
rump shaker-wrecks in effect
it takes two-rob base (who i saw in concert in college, story for a later time)
2 legit to quit-hammer (or is it MC hammer??)
feel me flow-naughy by nature (not cause i hate ya)
i'm raving-scooter (do yourself a favor, download this song. it will change your life)
how much is the fish-scooter (scooter is very euro, which means sweet)
there are more super sweet songs like these that i am forgetting, and for that i apologize.
money, cash, hoes
i have none of the three things listed above. i had some money, than my truck started making god awful grinding noises. after 3 trips back and forth to philly i thought, maybe i should get this looked at. yeah, needed new axles. while the truck was on lift i get a phone call telling me i need new brakes and rotors. great. so now i have no money. but at least my truck will be able to stop. i guess that's a good thing. i'd rather have the money.
if you don't appreciate awkward bull-dyke lesbains, you are not a friend of mine.
stupid ego maniac
so i am finally home from work. although i get done at one, like an idiot i have to stay for another two hours and work out. i used to love working out, until i started working at a gym. when that clock strikes one, i want to break up outta there like.....i don't know, something that breaks up outta somewhere. instead i have to stupid work out, b/c i have to stupid look good, b/c i'm a stupid ego maniac. damn you brain, be healthy.
at least there was absolutely NO ONE decent looking to check out there. so much for some inspiration. of course i work out at the worst possible time for female activity. who the hell works out from 1-3? old men wearing daisy duke running shorts (horrible), some heavy-set college kids, and skinny high school punks. great. one woman did ask me about a million questions about the exercises i was doing. i should have given her a "private" training session in the back office if you catch my drift......get it???.........no............me neither. i should just come back to the gym at night for any female activity, but the chances of me going back there after i leave are none and none. that may even be high. imagine going back to work when you are done, for free, and exerting pain on yourself.....all on purpose. i may be somewhat masocistic, but i'm not an idiot. (many would argue that last point).
later bitches
sssssshhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!
why does the guy in the Jet's hat have to YELL EVERYTHING HE SAYS? i don't understand this. why would someone draw that much attention to themselves at 7:55 in the am? there aren't even any hot chicks in here to attempt to impress. are you that insecure that you insist on being the center of attention?
don't mind my bitterness. i am sore like i got beat up by a pack of midgets with little midget baseball bats. compound that with under 4 hours of sleep, and you have yourself a recipe for angry.
i deal with idiots
a conversation i had earlier at work regarding a membership:
jerk: i am going to re-sign up
me: (looking up his info) i see you had a three month membership, is that what you want?
jerk: i don't think it was for three months
me: i'm showing that it was.
jerk: i don't think so.
me: no, it was....three months for $175
jerk: i still don't think so
me: ok, well what type of membership are you looking for now?
jerk: i'll have another three month membership.
ANOTHER three month membership. meaning you had one previously.
i came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain
although it has been 7 hours since i was in class, i would still like to make some things clear about it. i loathe class. i have addressed this issue before, and my thoughts haven't changed. class eats my ass. especially after waking up at 3, working from 5-1, and then having just enough time to change and leave for class. i have no idea what was going on b/c i was delusional from lack of sleep. shoot me. if class were a person i would beat him to death with a hammer. the claw end.
i was going to write more, but sleep is calling.
monday morning + me = not good
monday morning 6:42 am. i've been up since 3 am. why? b/c the woman lives in philly and it takes me an hour and a half to get to work from there. when you have to be at work at 5 am you need to wake up real early. went to bed at 1 am. you do the math. that all equals not much sleep. there is some fucker on an eliptical machine that is squeaking like fucking crazy. with every step a dagger is being driven into my head. every other eliptical is available. why? why use the one that squeaks?
i am all out of coffee and that makes me sad/angry. i may need to start mainlining it. this sucks b/c right from work i have to go to class, then i have to come back here and work out b/c i've been slacking the past couple weeks. time to get back into a routine. stupid routine. stupid lack of sleep.
weekend was pretty good. went to see the woman on friday night. got there kinda late so we just watched TV, i guess. really can't remember. drinking has damaged my brain. i do remember that my truck started making some horrible sound every time i accelerated. awesome. i'm no mechanic, but that's not good. on saturday we went to the Philly Art Museum (or whatever it's really called). it was wayyyyyyyy too crowded. there was a Salvador Dali exhibition so that brought in tons of people. not my kind of people. annoying, condescending, know it alls. i made fun of them. random people that didn't work there were acting as tour guides and voicing their opinions (loudly) about every piece of art. "notice how the light fades into the horizon. the artist is really moved by blah, blah, blah." hey geek, relax. i'm not impressed. i also took art appreciation 101, that doesn't mean i'm about to give a tour. the sad thing is the people that followed them around, mesmorized. i also wanted to follow contradicting everything that was said and booing. didn't fly with the woman. i think i embarassed her anyway. me saying, "what the hell is this? how the hell is this in a museum?" as people were ohhhing and ahhhing some modern piece of shit may have had something to do with that. people are stupid. maybe i am just ignorant to art b/c i think it's kinda fruity. unless it is a REAL painting or sculpture. none of this sculptures made of garbage nonsense. a lot of the works were amazing if for no other reason than the fact they are 100's of years old. there were also some artifacts that were 1000's of years old. pretty bad ass. what was not bad ass was us staying there for so long. eventually every picture looks the same and my feet hurt. at least we got cheesesteaks on the way home.
in stark contrast to saturday afternoon was saturday night. i drove all the way back to the jersey shore to watch a fight. as you can see i am very cultured. a guy i work with does the Ultimate Fighter stuff and had a fight. he won in the first round. remind me not to fight him. he was fucking whaling on this dude. i may have 30 lbs on him, but he's a goddam pitbull. a lot of people from work were there so it was good times. there was a surprising amount of good tail there too. who knew? the woman went out in philly with friends so i was free to peruse the crowd. went out to eat after and ate like my usual fat kid self. left jersey at 12:30 to go back to philly. once again, truck squealing the whole time. awesome. all i do is drive so this is just great.
sunday was low key, only went out for grocery shopping and went to get lunch. when the waitor took forever to take our order we were told "he is next door at Friday's fighting over his boyfriend." sweet. gays are funny. and very flamboyant. and very gay. yes that is redundant. no i don't really care.
caffiene overload
i had me 20ozs of Dunkin Donuts coffee and a red bull. i am wired. i know i will crash and feel sick soon. i do this all the time. i am an idiot. i only got about 3 1/2 hours sleep. if i didn't consume these liquids i would surely fall asleep at work. i could care less, in fact i would love to. however, i don't think the boss man would appreciate it. damn the man. i have me an adrenaline stashed in the fridge for later. i will drink that and put my stomache into jittery, convulsing spasms. it's gonna be fun.
the sun even shines on a dog's ass someday
the NCAA tourny is so bitter sweet. bitter in the fact i am in numerous brackets and will lose every one. i probably won't even be close. you need to pay to get in them, and since i will lose i will be short on cash. all of that makes me angry. the fact alabama lost in the first round is not helping. every year i make awful pick after awful pick. i rush myself, and then when all is said and done, second guess everything i did. and do you know who wins?...........some broad that knows NOTHING about sports. without fail these women win my money in office pools. i played sports my entire life, even played D-1 football, yet i am consistantly outsmarted by people that
make picks based on team colors and mascots. maybe i should just do that too.
what makes me happy is the fact i cut class today and am watching BC play Penn on the comfort of my own couch. awesome.
whacking day was created in 1922 as an excuse to beat up the irish
happy st. patrick's day fellow irishmen. to those of you that are not irish, get off my site, and go find your own drinking holiday. today my st. patty's day plans conisit of working, going to class, and maybe working out. could i suck any worse? probably not.
i used to not suck quite so much. i used to be fun. not so much now. since my birthday is the 14th, it and st. patrick's day were a murder's row in college. on the night of my 21st birthday i couldn't go out drinking b/c i had running for football the next morning at 5:30am. i could barely get through those things sober, so running around still being drunk was NOT an option. however, since st. patty's day was only a mere three days later we held off the celebration till then. the night started off innocent enough with about 1 million games of beer pong. we then took a walk to the irish pub right down the street. after a few pints i went to take a leak. i was already pretty loaded and when i got back from the bathroom to find 10 shots of irish whisky lined up at the bar. awesome. aren't friends great? of course being the dumb ass i am, i did them. at least each person that bought one did one with me as well. so after 10 shots of whisky, and 100 beers (probably) we then went to
really get drinking. the next bar was a mere walk down the road as well. still relatively coherant at this point, no major damage done so far. of course i walk into a bar PACKED with my friends and kids from the team. this is where things get how shall we say.....hazy?
there is something about a 21st birthday that brings out the worst in your friends. it's a big rite of passage, the fact you can now drink legally. since everyone else has been through this, it is only fair they get back at everyone that killed them. my friends (i use that term loosely when referring to this night) were no different. at this second bar things got ugly. much of this is strictly heresay and communist propaganda as far as i'm concerned. the shots started coming at me like there was no tomorrow. and awful shots at that b/c guys are such assholes when it comes to that. (i was equally as bad to those that came after me). tequilla, three wise men, 101, jack daniels, straight vodka, gasoline (i'm willing to bet), etc. when all was said and done i eventually did 21 shots. i remember only bits and pieces at this point. instead of being cut off at the bar, i was given garbage can to puke in instead. that's the kind of establishment this was. i decided puking in the garbage can would be too easy, and instead did it on the dance floor. b/c for some reason i thought dancing would be a good idea after 1 million drinks. at some point i also grabbed some chick's rack (she told me the next day), and immediately turned around and tried to hook up with her friend. can you say 0-2? i can. and these girls, not good looking. so 0-2 with ugly girls, which is really like 0-7. good times.
i was eventually taken out of the bar and more or less carried to my bed. i obviously missed all my classes the next day. i was later told one of roommates was so drunk he actually thought he was from ireland and talked with an irish brogue all night. he ended up doing that for the next couple st. patty's days. more about him some other time.
so eat, drink, and be merry bitches.
she's crazy like a fox
the woman that just came into the gym is crazy. at least i think so. if not she's doing a real good job of pretending. EVERY time i check her in she laughs like i just said the funniest thing she's ever heard. all i say is, "enjoy your workout." and then BOOM, out come the hysterics. very uncomfortable. i call her the Mad Laugher. i almost slip and call her than on a regular basis. sometimes i need to make a conscious effort to keep the thoughts in my head seperate from what comes out of my mouth. think about this scenerio. i say, "enjoy your workout." immediately her eyes get real big and she cackles likes a hyenea (sp.). bizarre. the truly funny thing is she laughs so hard i am startled almost everytime. i prepare myself for it, yet it is so loud and forceful (scary even) i still jump back. also, what do i say then? i haven't come up with anything other than to stare back, blinking in stunned silence.
dinner with lesbians
i haven't posted something for a couple days. although i THOUGHT i posted something on monday. according to blogger, i didn't. oh well. you didn't miss out on anything important. however it was my birthday on monday, not that any of you bastards (i use the word "you" loosely considering no one reads this) even care. and to answer your questions, it was a good couple day stretch of celebration.
the woman was good to me with dinner at some hibachi restarurant on saturday night. but there are problems with hibachi style eating. #1 being the fact you sit with complete strangers. unless the other people at the table know each other, making you the stranger. of course that was the case. two other couples and two chicks. me and the woman speculated the chicks were a lesbian couple. i was especially hoping that b/c they were both blondish, kinda cute, and one had a nice rack. my hopes were somewhat confirmed when one ordered a beer (making her the butch) while the other ordered some fag drink. (sadly one of the dudes at the table ordered "sex on the beach" too. what self-respected man would ever do that? i tell you the whole world has turned gay. and yes i snickered and made fun of him for a solid ten minutes b/c of that). neither of the "supposed" lesbians ordered any fish, which would have sealed the deal. (if you don't get that reference, get the hell off my site). so dinner consisted of me and the woman being totally out of any conversation b/c the six of them wanted nothing to do with us. i thought this rude being that they were around our age. it was also great when the waiter decided to put everyone's order on one bill, and then gave the bill to me. uh awkward. the first words i uttered to anyone else were, "not that this hasn't been great, but you need to ante up." the lesbians paid individually and they didn't even make out once. maybe they were fighting.
i say we let pee-wee go
the biker that just came in is one of the scariest individuals you were ever see. he is covered in tattoos, has a long ass goatee, and long ass hair. he is the president of a well established and respected (feared) biker club (gang). i heard a verified story that he cut someone's nose off in a bar fight. did you get that? he CUT OFF SOMEONE'S NOSE!!! normal people don't do that. this guy did. the truly scary thing, is i'm even more afraid of his wife.
i like my nose. i am nice to them.
if it's about not eating the insanity peppers, i'm wayyy ahead of you
yes that is two simpson quotes from the same episode in a week's span. no i don't really care.
yesterday i stared insanity in the eyes, and didn't blink.
to preface this story, i don't really like old people. one of my ex-girlfriends LOVED old people. not just her grandparents, or people she knew, but random old people. she thought they were cute like little kids. she was weird like that. we no longer date. i do not like old people. i love my remaining grandparents, a lot. that is where i draw the line. i am going to stereotype here, b/c that is what i do. old people suck. if you are old and are reading this, chances are you suck. you may not, but i think you do. old people are slow and dangerous behind the wheel. when i'm driving and get cut off by someone, who then procedes to drive 10-15 mph below the speed limit, there is a good chance they are old. they make me angry. old people are also angry and often surly. it's not my fault you were beaten down by life. now i understand that the people that are old lived through incredible turmoil and trying times. the great depression, WWII, etc. i know i couldn't imagine having to go to war, or going hungry b/c i couldn't find work. having said that, all that shit happened over 50 years ago. take that angry look off your face. you know that look i'm talking about. that permanent fucking scowl. if i ever get that, i'm going to kill myself. (wow, i am an angry individual at 6am). old people also love to complain. about anything and everything. they also smell like urine. (will i burn in hell for this paragraph, oh you betcha).
yesterday an old man with all of those characteristics, including one more bothered me for hours. this particular old man was CRAZY as well. how did i know he was crazy? simple, he came to the gym wearing a Mets batting helmet and ski gloves. ok, so maybe he was cold when he came in, old people have bad circulation. only he kept that shit on the entire time he was here, and he was here a while. a fucking batting helmet. and fucking ski gloves. a FUCKING BATTING HELMET!!!! huh?? it's 70 degrees in here pal. also, you smell like pee. please shower. we have showers here. we even have towels. i'll give you some soap. please don't come near me b/c i will dry heave and have nightmares. he also decided it would be fun to come and talk to me every 8 minutes. great. i hate small talk. i hate small talk with normal people. i sometimes enjoy small talk with crazy people for entertainment purposes. this was not one of those times. he complained about the music, about the other members. about what was on the TV's. about his car. you get the point? and did i mention he was crazy? he had the crazy eyes. i think they were circling around his head like he was a big circus clown. (i don't like clowns. at all. very creepy). i'm hoping he will never come in again. i'm sure he will, and i'm sure he will call me by the wrong name. i'm sure i'll correct him on numerous occasions. i'm sure he'll forget, yet somehow remember to always call me by the same wrong name. can't wait.
(i need to start posting stuff later in the day when i am not so angry/tired. or not. either way)
me + cold = miserable
oh sweet jebus it is freezing outside. still. it is never going to get warmer. ever. it is now march, there is still snow on the ground. and ice. the ice is slippery and treacherous. on my walk to dunkin donuts yesterday i almost fell and busted my ass. would it have been tragically funny? of course. would i have covered myself in coffee? undoubtably. luckily i have been blessed with cat-like reflexes that allowed me to maintain my balance while juggling two cups of coffee. i know i'm your hero.
to the idiot that just came in and commented on the coldness: you are wearing shorts. it is like 15 degrees outside. bare skin gets cold pretty quickly. you may want to rethink the non-pants thing. i hope you fall while trying to balance coffee and burn your legs. i am a dick. i don't really care.
to the person that just told me i need a haircut: thank you for being a relative stranger, yet pointing out something that will make me self conscious the rest of the day. fantastic.
to the woman wearing spandex pants and a sports bra (yet has NO business doing so): what the hell are you trying to do? i just ate. do you want it to come back up on me in a series of retches and heaves? i think you do. i also think your house has fun-house type mirrors that distort reality. it's either that, or your head distorts reality.
that simpson thinks he's the pope of chilitown
i could go for some chili right now. lots of it in fact. with melted cheese on top. i will not have any chili right now b/c it isn't even 8am and no place that has chili is open. i will however have my second dunkin donuts coffee in a 3 hour span. why? b/c i never sleep and i am tired. also, i am hungry, and in my madness i am going to fill up on coffee. a great decision if ever there was one. since satan himself forged my stomache in the pits of hades i will no doubt be sick as hell soon. i will also have the "flux" like there is no tomorrow. can't wait. maybe i will die first. probably not.
there is a sheet of ice on the ground as far as the eye can see. again, i am on "spring break" right now. there should never be snow or ice associated with that. ever. i hate the snow and ice. i hate winter. i hate the cold. i hate the wind. i hate the cold snow and ice winds of winter. the great thing is on monday i was wearing a tee shirt b/c it was nice out. yesterday i was dressed like an eskimo and was still freezing my ass off. only in Dirty Jersey. i need to move the hell outta here.
jimmy, have you ever seen a grown man naked?
as i sit at the gym so many weird ass things happen to me that i could really just sit and type all day long. i won't. but here is one that struck me as odd today.
i see the same fucking people every fucking day. to the point i don't even have most of them check in. since i am not retarded i've memorized these people's names and check them in myself so i won't have to make small talk when they give me their plastic keychain things. without fail EVERYDAY this one guy comes in and SCREAMS his name to me. everyday, like clockwork i hear BOB LAIDLAW as he walks by. yes, bob, i am aware of this. everyday i try to not snap like a lunatic and come across the counter in a firestorm of punches and karate chops. it's to the point i have to say "hi bob, i already checked you in" the second he walks in the door so i won't be yelled at yet again. the thing is, he must also be onto my little game b/c he keeps yelling his name earlier and earlier. what the fuck?? also, he never says anything else. most people will mention the weather (yes, i know it's raining, i can see out the BIG ASS windows not 20 feet from where i'm standing), sports, anything. not bob. he yells his name and then walks by silently. until today. today i beat him to his name and expect him to walk on by. and then he drops this gem on me......."i think i'm growing my hair out." and just keeps on walking by. doesn't even slow down.
what the fuck??? are you kidding me??
one more fun fact about BOB LAIDLAW. last week i went to the men's room to take a leak and saw something you usually don't run into. upon approaching the urinals i notice in the mirror behind them that BOB is taking a leak, no big deal. however, he is only wearing a tee shirt and socks. of course there are only 3 urinals there and he took the middle one. i had already crossed the threshold to the bathroom and there was no turning back. i was lucky enough to piss right next to him, socks and all. sidenote: without fail, the floor under the urinal was soaked in piss.
never say never
as promised, a "cancun, free bracelets" story.
i believe it was the second night i was in cancun that i made a fateful statement that would later come back to haunt me. for the life of me i can't remember what the hell club we were in line for, but we happened upon a group of females from our school in line ahead of us. being the jock assholes we were, these were girls we never associated with at school. they were nerds as it were. (nerds is a great word, and everytime i use it, it should be screamed like Ogre from Revenge of the Nerds). these girls were not very good looking, at all. b/c i was an education major i was stuck in class with a couple of them, and they were fucking geeks. always handing in these ridiculous projects that made my horrible projects even worse. in fact it got so bad i ended up going OFF on some broad after class one time. my professor had been nice enough to compare the effort put into her project and mine, in front of the class no less. after my tirade she cried and cursed at me. pretty much par for the course in college. also, she was very ugly. don't judge me.
to set the mood for the state of mind i was in this fateful night imagine this. still being hung over from the night before we got up and sat by the pool and drank all day. at some point i passed out in a lounge chair. at no point did i put on any sunblock. i am irish. i am pale. i get burned in the Jersey sun. i got TORCHED. i was burned badly, not dead. also i was now drunk again having started drinking again the second i woke up and realized i was now a shade of red that humans shouldn't be. my intoxication was heightened by the fact we really didn't eat much b/c EVERYTHING tasted like tequila. EVERYTHING, even the McDonalds. weird. so back to waiting in line. at this point i was already very, very drunk again (did i mention that yet, b/c that's my only defense). the girls from our school were being very loud and obnoxious, as were we, but we are funny so it's allowed. at one point i pick a particular girl out and say aloud, "i don't care how drunk i ever get, i could never hook up with her." at the time a very reasonable and true comment. not to sound like a prick (but i will) this is someone that i wouldn't even have given the time of day too. fast forward 4 hours and 100 shots and beers later. i am now seperated from everyone i went with and blind with drunkeness. i am approached by what appears to be a female who asks me, "your name is (insert my name), you play football at (insert my school) right?"
me (dumbfounded): "yes."
her: "i've had 5 classes with you, you've never even nodded at me"
me: "that's very possible"
her: "i always thought you were an asshole"
me: "also possible"
her: "you think you're such hot shit, don't you?"
me: "if it makes you feel better, yes"
her: "why don't you ever even say hi to m...."
her sentence is cut short b/c it is at this point i am so sick of her talking to me that i procede to shove my tongue down her throat. also the above conversation is pretty much verbatim b/c unbeknownst to me, one of my roommates witnessed this whole scene at point blank range, in his words "laughing his ass off and pointing." at this point details are pretty hazy due to unhealthy amounts of alcohol comsumption. the next thing i know, i am back in my hotel room. how i got there, a mystery. who i am with, also a mystery. it is dark, i am drunk. i am performing something that i guess you could call sex, but very badly. again, darkness. eventually i come to and don't know whether i am awake or dreaming, but do realize at least i have a broken condem on. awesome. i come to understand that there is what at first glance is a female laying next to me. not too large, which is good. not too attractive, which is not good. but again, i'm not sure if i'm dreaming or not. i wake up to an empty bed totally naked. not a very attractive scene being that my chest is the color of fire due to my sunburn which would later cause ungodly pain. the broken condem is still on which leads me to several questions. none of them good. who the hell was i with that knew who i was? when did said condem break? will my chest ever feel like it's NOT laying on hot coals? is someone in the bathroom b/c i need to piss like my dick has been tied in a knot?
i take a leak (through the broken condem) and thank the heavens it doesn't burn. upon leaving the bathroom i am greated by a chorus of cheers. my scumbag roommates are so pleased with last night's performance they are shaking my hand (after assuring them i washed it....ha!! i didn't) and begin to tell me of my exploits. it turns out the girl was of course the ONE person i have ever said i wouldn't hook up with. they came back to the room during what we now refer to as the "action" and said i didn't skip a beat. i was told they were laughing so hard i threw her bra and shoe at them. (the bra was later found under a bed. i'm assuming she found the shoe). eventually the "action" came to a halt and i immediately passed out. with nothing else to see they did as well. at some point the female gathered her belongings (minus the bra) and hightailed it outta there while we all slept.
of course for the rest of the week we happened to see her and her friends at every club b/c they had the same package we did. i did not talk to her ever again. although she did come to my room EVERY night the rest of the week. this prompted one of my friends to ask her if she was pregnant. she cursed at him, loudly from what i understand. one night her presence was so not appreciated she had to be escorted out by hotel security.
needless to say it was awkward when we got back b/c as it turns out i did have a bunch of classes with her group of friends. at every class i could feel the dirty looks like daggers being thrown at me. at least i never had to talk to her again. and every time i saw her i would say "i would never, ever hook up with that girl......again."
cancun, free bracelets.
cancun, free bracelets
i couldn't agree with you more. the subject to this post is both random and strange. these words were uttered by a friend in college when he was passed out drunk our freshman year. the person's name was Cobra (well his nickname was. he looked like the villian in the Slyvester Stallone movie Cobra) and he was a wide receiver on our football team. Cobra was the most eerily quiet person on the team. he was a cool kid, just never really said much. then there was Cobra after a few drinks.....really not the same person. never in my life did i see a person change so much under the influence of alchohol. it was uncanny. i could easily fill this blog with 100's of Cobra stories, and someday i might, but not today. today i will only tell this one as it is somewhat relavent to the rest of my post. as i was stating, Cobra had passed out in my suite for the 100th time and several of us were carrying him up the stairs to his room. nothing out of the ordinary for a weekend night. all of a sudden in a state of catatonic peace he made the following statements that were so mind blowing i proceded to run downstairs and write them down on one of those dry erase marker boards, lest i forget. i apologize if i forgot one or two, it's been a couple years, and in no particular order: cancun, free bracelets......clam chowder pussy, ummm.....and i fuck all the bitches. now the last statement is very beetlejuice esque (see howard stern). the other two made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and therin lies the brilliance of them. in his drunken, passed out state, he had the sense of mind to utter those pearls of wisdom. for the next couple years we would often quote these Cobra-isms as they came to be called. the "cancun, free bracelets" became particularly hot when it was spring break time. when i was in cancun my 1st senior year, i said that about 1 million times. and the beauty of it is the fact it is true. wherever you go, you get those damn paper or plastic bracelets. every single time someone put one on me i would repeat that mantra. people would stare at me like i was retarded. which of course i am.
all of that is lead in for the fact once again it is time for "cancun, free bracelets." yes it is spring break for me. this year i am spending it at work b/c i need money. when you have money you can go on vacation, when you don't have money, you work. i don't know who the hell i thought i was going when i did. i was broke as a joke and charged the whole thing. i'm still paying for it. i'm an asshole. i'm also bitter that i have to be an adult now. i may or may not post some spring break stories for you (who am i kidding no one reads this) later.
you a slave to a page in my rhyme book
that is quote from Nas' "Made you look." that is the song i am playing as i download Dashboard Confessional songs (illegally to boot. piss off internet cops!!). i'm a fan of the rap, and of the faggy emotional droning of angst riddin, scorned 20 year olds. as you can see i am quite the enigma. my musical tastes are beyond my own understanding and will one day be post unto itself. in the meantime you are stuck with what i did this weekend. brace yourself for boredom and mediocrity (eventually you get used to it, believe me):
the woman came to see me at work after i got out at one so we could work out together. she needed to get some more exercises for back and triceps, and since i am the all-knowning gym guy (whatever) i put her through my routine. upon finishing the workout we visited the much anticipated and talked about KFC. the woman is pretty health oriented (aka, gay), but does REALLY enjoy eating. as previously stated this is HUGE for me. we ate so much that the 5 "thugged out niggas playing thugged out games" that worked there were staring at us. i guess it's not every day two cracker-ass crackers in their mid 20's dressed nicely gorge themselves on popcorn chicken and honey bbq wings. well, that is a sad statement about america these days. the only real bad thing is the fact the only KFC around here is in a Ghetto Fabulous area and we had to dodge gunshots too and from my truck. we then rented "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" b/c it's one of the funniest movies ever and she'd never seen it. that fact alone made me rethink the whole relationship, but since she was raised by wolves i was willing to let it slide. i proceded to laugh like i belong in psycho ward while she quietly enjoyed it. also had a good mid afternoon make out session after the gym. grade for the day: A (hard to top gym, KFC, good movie and heavy petting)
saturday. not so good. went to gym again. did legs. she annoyed me with too much talking. eventually i stopped talking and just pointed at the machine. that went over well. as did my comments saying, "don't be a girl. if you'd rather go home, we can." girls annoy me. they are whiny and crave attention. usually she doesn't so she knew her behavior was annoying me. eventually we became friends and went to the mall. i still had mall gift certificates from the x-mas to spend. i desperately needed to get.....well a little bit of everything. prior to dating the woman i mainly wore comfortable clothes, ie.: tear aways, adidas pants, etc. i know i've need to revamp the wardrobe for quite a while, and she is damn good at dressing me up. however, i have many many issues with many things fashion related. i LOATHE the fashion industry. i hate trendy things. i hate metro-anything. so it is hard to shop for me. also i am kinda muscular so something that should fit me usually doesn't b/c it was meant for a waif. fags. i'm going to stop this story here b/c this will morph into a series of rants that will be too long and angry to read all at once. eventually there will be a "Trip to the Mall" post. and rest assured it won't be good. neither was this trip to the mall. skip ahead FIVE HOURS...........we then went to olive garden although i wanted mexican. why did we go there? b/c i am a nice boyfriend and put her ahead of me. (i know you all want me). this was followed by another rented movie b/c the other couple we made plans with bailed b/c the male is really a homo (probably). grade for the day: C- no making out, too long at the mall (although i got some sweet gear), and food i didn't want.
sunday. still in progress. went to church. went to food store and bought lunch. sushi, boneless buffalo wings, and spaghetti O' for me. chicken sammich for her. ate, came home and slept. she went to her parent's for dinner. that is it. awesome. i love lazy sundays. grade so far: B (hopefully there will be some making out later, in that case it will be raised)
anyone that read this in it's entirety has problems as this is one of the most boring things ever written. i almost went back and erased the whole thing. but then i would've had to start a new post from scratch, and that just ain't in the cards. later bitches
bacon is goooood, pork chops are gooooood.
are there any better words than "class today is cancelled"? in all likelyhood yes, such as "here is $1,ooo,ooo,ooo" or "of course i'll have sex with you whenever you want," says brooke burke. of course neither of those two things will EVER happen, and for this i am bitter. so i will take what i can get and rejoice in the fact class was cancelled yesterday. something about my professor having a baby, whatever, i am not concerned with the personal affairs of others. what i am concerned with is the fact today is FRIDAY bitches. so no matter what happens i will not kill someone today for the fear of being locked up for the weekend does not sit well. sadly i will be here (the damn gym) on my day off tomorrow b/c i missed working out a day this week (i hate you snow). also the woman wants to work out and i can't deny myself the joy of seeing her in workout clothes. something about a chick that works out that is so very hot. unless said girl is not hot, in which case fatty should cover up and go eat 10 big macs. (yes i am a dick, no i don't care).
no major plans for the weekend b/c i suck. that is what happens when you suck. if i didn't suck so bad, i'd have plans. the only thing set in stone is the fact the woman and i are getting KFC at some point. see, her eating habits are one of my main draws to her. she eats like a fat kid, yet manages to stay skinny and hot. it's awesome. i don't have to change the way i eat to accomodate her. that is why she rules and most other girls are horrible blood sucking drains on me.
prior to dating her i dated a vegetarian for a couple months. there is nothing worse than that. as it was she really only ate salad. gay. that didn't stop me from purposely eating meat every time we went out. even if i wasn't in the mood for steak i would get it. (see above, ie. dick). one time i bit the bullet and went to a fag vegetarian restaurant. it was the WORST crap i've ever eaten in my life. she then had the gaul to say, "isn't this great?" to which i replied, "i'd rather rip out my tongue with rusty pliers than eat this shit." the rest of dinner was muted with an awkward silence. good times. the funny thing is she was all about being "natural", yet she had fake tits. what the hell sense does that make? it all proves my point that females are crazy.
why jill why?
the above title was found written in a text book i borowed from a friend in college. if i am not mistaken the book was for Accouting 101. at that time i had changed majors from business to history and the class was meaningless to me outside of getting 3 credits. even if i had still been a business major this class would have drove me to smashing my face against my desk for an hour and fifteen minutes twice a week. i didn't do a single iota of work for this class. nothing. nada. i sat next to a business geek teammate from the football team and he let me copy all of the homework. i rarely attended class, although attendance was mandatory. i also slept through the final by mistake. i didn't even realize this until the business geek teammate called me and told me i missed it. i had missed other finals before, but on purpose. this was a total accident. i was fucked b/c this professor obviously didn't like me due to my many many absences. i had to go see him during his office hours and tell him some bullshit excuse about my ulcer causing me to vomit blood all night long. (surprise, surprise i don't have an ulcer). i had to pull out all the stops for this. b/c i had to take the test in his office i was doubly fucked as i had planned on cheating off my friend. not good. needless to say i bombed the final but finished the class with a C. whatever, i got the 3 credits.
anyway, back to my original story of "why jill why?". this friend was also a teammate on the football team (although he later had to quit due to 100 concussions). he was obsessed with this girl Jill (duh) that really wasn't that into him. they kinda fucked around every now and then but never anything beyond that. it sucked for the rest of us b/c jill was SMOKING hot and very flirty. she would often get loaded and model bikinis and bra/panties (panties is a dirty word and i never usually use it. usually i will substitute pantalones). the bottom line is outside of the occasional half nakedness she was off limits b/c of my friend and his (unhealthy) obsession with her. we all knew he was kinda crazy due to the concussions and obsession, and it was finally confirmed when i came across "why jill why?" in his accounting book. can you imagine being so distraught, i'm assuming in class, that you would actually write those words? i can not. needless to say this became a running joke for the next four years with my roommates and myself. we were and still are assholes. funny, seriously funny but assholes. we would just ask that question of each other constantly. especially if we were loaded, which was often. some of us would be known to scream this as we left the bar/party we'd been attending. to my knowledge he never knew i came across that little tidbit, or the fact we turned his misery into a joke behind his back for so long. although i vaguely remember telling him about it my senior year when i was shit-can loaded. not too sure about that. as a sad side note, jill failed out of school her after her freshman year which truly sucked b/c she was fun as hell. this whole episode is still funny b/c to this day i can email one of my old roommates with the subject "why jill why?" and it will elicit an entire day's worth of quality emailing. good times.
and yes i am bored at work.
i don't care if flanders is the greatest guy ever...he's a JERK!!!
yes it is 6:20am, and yes i am at work. yes it is still snowing, and yes i probably could've slept in another 2 hours. however, i have this stupid sense of responsibility that makes me feel guilty if i don't do the right thing, ie: getting to work on time. opening at 5am was pretty worthless considering there have been a total of 4 people walk in the doors so far. one is an old man that loves to wear spandex shorts and tank tops. you bet your ass there will be an entire post dedicated to him some day. if nothing else it is very quiet and peaceful in here, except of course for the dangerously loud music. i turn it down every morning, just to have the owner walk in later and turn it back up. it's an ongoing battle we never discuss. we both understand the other's feelings about the decibal level, i prefer reasonable, he prefers mind numbing. but i'm sure this little dance will go on for as long as i am employed. and since i am the only moron willing to wake up at 4:30 monday-friday to open up this place, it will probably be going on for quite a while.
a quick glance outside tells me it is still snowing. another quick glance around the gym tells me the old man is still wearing spandex shorts. awesome. due to fact there are no other employees coming in until my relief comes i am forced to scrounge for food like a rodent. so far i have finished a half bag of andy capp's "hot fries." easily one of the greatest snacks of all time. so cheap, so good. much better than the shit-bird comic strip it is connected to for some reason totally lost on me. the fact as i stuff my face with them my nose begins to run and my mouth feels like i am eating liquid hot magma does not deter me. i know i look like a mental patient b/c i am gorging myself, all but licking the bad and covering myself in orange "hot fry" pieces. once again, so good. i also came across some chicken parm left unguarded and unclaimed in the fridge. jackpot. said chicken parm is now resting comfortably in my stomache. if i am questioned about it, i will refer to the case of "finder's vs. keepers." damn i am a fat kid. all that and i am still hungry. i also had half a big bottle of water and a "turbo tea" (a poor coffee substitute). i am the model of a healthy gym employee. people (mostly fat women) walk by me as i eat here and give me dirty looks and curse under their breathe. sometimes i actually laugh out loud. you have to love a gym employee that will eat an entire pizza/chicken parm/side of beef and not care about hiding it or do anything other than to say, "you need to do more cardio" to people who complain about my eating. the sad fact is i can eat what i want b/c i know in 6 hours i'll be killing myself (lifting/running). it's worth it just to hear people complain. old man, why do you love spandex so much? i would love to sit down and interview him. it would start out in a serious tone, eventually giving way to ludicris questions. it's too early to think of specifics, but at least an idea of it is in the works.
