my water dish is empty
this es no bueno. it is only 6:30 and i've already done my whole morning routine which usually takes me to 7:30-8:00. how is that possible? i don't know. i must have forgot something. probably something big. how does an hour disappear? or reappear as the case may be today. it's a question for the ages. i'll be enlightened on my deathbed.
so the holiday weekend is over. boo that. at least summer has started. living at the jersey shore, the summer is the highlight of the year. except for bennies. oh how i loathe bennies. for those of you not in the know, bennies are north jersey and NY trash that comes down on weekends and ruins my otherwise good times. they do such things as bring glowsticks to clubs for dancing purposes. they pump their fists in the air to bad club songs. groups of guys will dance in a circle.........by themselves, with no females around. and that is the gayest thing to ever happen. these same guys will without fail also be all juiced up on roids, with tight shirts, lots of jewelry and hair gel, and bad black shoes. it's like there is a factory that mass produces them. they also come off the assembly line in beamers and mustangs. i HATE these guys. i go to these same bars/clubs wearing flip flops and tee shirts. no gel, no tight shirt, not dancing with other guys.
the saga continues...wu tang. wu tang
fuck work. fuck work on memorial day. fuck me for volunteering to work on a holiday. fuck my broke ass for needed money so badly that i HAD to work today.
i am going to try and finish the LONGEST, most drawn out story ever told today. its just like Beowolf, only much more boring. i suck so bad.
after the game we went back to the hotel and had a dinner/banquet. this was open bar. this started the shit show that the night was to turn into. now, when you get 60 meat head football players together for an open bar you can only expect bad things to happen. they did. we drank all the alcohol at the open bar and it was forced to close early. it happens. following the open bar, a handful of us went to a suite at the hotel a teammates brothers had gotten. upon entering the door i spotted 30 packs as far as the eye could see. i also saw bags of cannibus sativa. i enjoyed both for hours. this took us to about 10:00 when we collectively decided to hit the bars. we walked around jacksonville (a caravan of 30) with the mission of finding a good bar. mission accomplished. we bum rushed this place and took it over. dancefloor, bar area, you name it. it was dominated. at some point i end up talking to some slob (i'll admit it). she talks me into going home with her. keep in mind i have NO idea where we are, let alone where i am now going. i only have a vague recollection of what happened from this point on, but it ain't good. there may or may not have been fornicating with a.....let's say....oh....a fat girl. hey. don't judge me. i'd been drinking for about 100 hours.
the next morning.
i wake up. i realize what i am sleeping next to. i groan the groan of an unhappy and still drunk man. now i've been in this situation countless times, but those have always been easily escapable. this one, not so much. i wake her shamu ass up and have her drive me back to my hotel. luckily the alarm was set this time. i'm thinking she lives 10 minutes away. WRONG. she lives an hour away. a freaking hour. and she had to stop and get gas. you can imagine the conversation that took place. horrible. she was asking me about my major, about football. i didn't really say much. at one point this exchange took place:
her: you can talk you know. you don't have to sit there in silence
me: oh, i know.
followed by 15 minutes of awkward silence. we finally get into town and she doesn't know where the hotel is. by sheer luck we drive past it and i literally JUMP out of the car as it's still moving. i arrive in time to see my roommate packing up for breakfast which i somehow drag my ass too.
breakfast is also a shit show. i don't know if i have ever seen a more hung over group of people. turns out just about everyone had a similar story. they involved everything from other fat girls to puking in bed, to pissing in bed. to sleeping in the hallway of the hotel. from this point on i slept as much as possible. the last highlight of the weekend was my friend throwing up in a potted plant at the airport.
this is the story i am reminded of every year.
fin.
marge, with today's gas prices we can't afford to not buy a pony
it's friday bitches.
to continue. when the flight finally landed we had time to get back to the hotel. change for practice and get back on the bus to go to the school for practice. luckily friends packed my equipment in my travel bag, otherwise i would have been truly SCREWED. as it was, they packed the wrong cleats, having packed my practice ones which were so torn up at this point i may as well have been barefoot.
at practice i continued to sweat out booze like it was in style.
finally after practice we went back to the hotel for downtime. i took two showers in a 2 hour time and napped for as long as i could. i was then awoken by a phone call to my room from the head coach. awesome. i had to meet with him to discuss my actions of the morning. i calmly explained to him that i overslept and it was merely an oversite on my part. perhaps the power went out in my apartment the night before. seems plausible right?? it took him about 2 hot minutes before he cut me off and told me he smelled the booze on me all day. he'd heard about my actions from the previous evening and knew i'd been called about 20 times from the bus in an attempt to wake me up. great. he decided he was going to let me play b/c i was a senior and it was my last game ever. i don't think he was real happy with this decision, but it really was the right one to make.
needless to say i was asked about what happened throughout the team dinner and team meetings that took place later than night. shut the hell up already, you all know what happened.
that night we had a mini-banquet for the team and family that had made the trip. my father came down to see the game and was somehow informed of what happened. to say he was happy would be a lie. but what can you do. knowing me like he did, he wasn't all that surprised. although i'm pretty sure he would have actually killed me if he flew down to florida and i wasn't even playing, or even worse, in the state.
game day.
i played hands down the worst game of my ENTIRE LIFE. i was still hung over on saturday morning from thursday night. i hadn't been able to eat anything all day friday, or saturday morning. right off the bat things went awry. i won't get into details but we were down 14 at the half and my ass was on the bench the rest of the game. the only time in my life that ever happened.
we ended up winning the game in the last couple minutes.
thank god.
the best part of this whole ordeal starts at about this point.
the state looks down on sodomy
what a lovely rainy thursday morning. i need to build an ark. except i would be more selective than noah was. only a few animals would make it. monkeys are a given. i would also try to save as many porn stars as possible. that seems to just be common sense.
i left off yesterday getting to the airport with 6 minutes to spare. i got my ticket and was seated next to a freshman lineman whose name totally eluded me. i'd never talked to him before and his first words to me were, "you smell like a brewery." thank you. he then told me he was also at the bar the night before and asked what happened with the girl i was talking too. having no clear recollection of any particular girl i asked him to elaborate. he told me i was making out with some broad on the dancefloor like it was my last day on earth. awesome. to this day i have no clue who it was. i asked him if she was good looking and he kinda shrugged. not a good sign. maybe it's best i don't know who she was. in my mind she's the hottest girl in the world.
the flight was BRUTAL. i was sweating like a dancing horse and since i hadn't showered or brushed my teeth i was reaking of booze. to the point that i actually smelled it coming out of my pores. great. the kid behind me told me he got drunk just smelling me. and in case you never took a flight hung over/still drunk, i'll tell you this......it fucking sucks. the air pressure changes killed my head and stomach, which were pounding me as it was. not good times, bad times.
due to fact work sucks. i will have to continue later. bitches.
i used to get feels from the bitch, now i throw shields on my dick. protect me from the HIV shit.
what a lovely rainy wednesday morning. what the fuck. it is the end of may and this weather is ass. where is the sun bitches? it certainly isn't here. all of you in sunny places suck.
as promised from yesterday, a story about me that was sparked on monday.
whenever i go to the golf outing i am inevitably reminded of a story from my senior year. the same kid brings up every time i see him. it goes something like this.
him: yo, any time i see you i think of the trip to jacksonville.
me: just let it die.
him: dude, that's the funniest thing that ever happened.
me: is it really?
it involves my last game ever. really i would like to look back on my last game with loving memories of a solid college career. 4 year starter, all conference selection, those are the things i would like to have other people remember. instead i get this. fuckers.
my last football game ever played took place in florida. due to the fact we had an early flight the team bus was slated to leave early friday morning. in my infinite wisdom myself and several teammates decided it would be a good idea to go out boozing the night before. although this shattered something called the 48 hour rule. meaning if you got caught drinking within 48 hours of your game, you would not be allowed to play. this rule was really just for show considering on several occasions assistant coaches saw me at the bar on many thursday nights, buying pitchers on more than one occasion. but i digress.
on this particular thursday i got especially loaded, most likely b/c the bar had a special consisting of $1 shots and 25 cent drafts. yeah. i said $1 shots and 25 cent drafts. also it was 18 for the ladies meaning many freshman biddies were there scantily clothed. what a wonderful combination. can you really be held accountable for your actions with drinks that cheap? i say you can not. you can kill someone in a drunken haze and you defense can simply be, "your honor, there were $1 shots and 25 cent drafts." no jury in the land will convict you. try it. it's golden. needless to say i was all tuned up. somehow i made it home, as i had many other thursday nights with a long bus ride to follow the next day. usually i would just sleep it off on the bus. not so much this time.
i don't remember setting my alarm. i don't remember it going off. it may have, i'm pretty sure it did. i must have turned it off. the first thing i vaguely remember is my roommate waking me up saying i was going to miss the bus. i laughed him off. plenty of time i say. the next thing i remember is a roommate shaking the hell out of me telling me someone called from the bus saying they were loading it up. i think i cursed him, and at this point he got pretty pissed and left me for dead. at this point i am kinda waking up and i answered the next couple phone calls from people on the bus telling me to get my ass there b/c it was leaving. i didn't believe them and they told me later i was speaking nonsense. i say they are liars. i must have fallen back asleep b/c i woke up, and looked at my clock in utter disbelief. the plane is set to leave in 2 hours. and i am still in bed.
oh fuck.
i don't even have time to shower as i quickly (and sloppily) dress in our travel attire, jacket and tie. i sprint to my truck (still shit can drunk) and speed like dale jr all the way to the airport which is an hour away. on the way i run red lights, and go through several EZ pass toll booths. i don't have EZ pass, but why should that stop me. i think at this point my blood alcholol level is somewhere around 98%. not good.
eventually i find my way to the airport, which i still consider to be a miracle b/c i'd never driven myself there before. i've since done it sober and found it damn near impossible. unbeknownst (sp????) to me at the time i park in short term parking and scramble to the terminal. i have no idea where the team is, and it turns out i am not even in the correct terminal. i ask a cabbie where my airline is flying out of and am told it isn't this one. the guy offers to take me to the right one. jackpot. when we get there it turns out i am supposed to pay this guy for his services. uh, what? when he notices my surprise he takes off before i can escape and run into the terminal. fucker. eventually i get out out of the cab and find myself on a bus that gets me to the correct destination. the clock is ticking.
through an act of god i find the correct wing and see the team about to line up for boarding. when i am spotted i am received by a huge standing ovation. the team went nuts. nothing but high fives, ass slaps, and uproarious laughter. the coaches great me by shaking their heads in disappointment as they hand me my ticket. i literally made it with 6 minutes to spare.
awesome.
(sadly, this isn't even close to the bad part of this story).
more to come later. my hands hurt from typing. bitches.
tastes like burning
do you want to know what fun is? waking up at 2:30 am and having to run the bathroom to puke for some reason. also, on the way to said bathroom you smash your foot on a wooden stool you have left precariously in the middle of your room causing you to yell "fuck." this puking fit then lasts for 25 minutes until your throat is raw and bleeding. that my friends, is what fun is.
my fucking stomach is still killing me today. i don't know what the hell is wrong with it. all i know is that if it doesn't get better soon, i may resort to drastic measures. what i want to do is scoop out the acid i feel sloshing around with a soup ladel. somehow i don't think that is in the cards. weak.
yesterday was my first day off of work since.......i have no idea. i work like a dirty mexican so i really have no clue. it was for the annual football alumni golf outing. that is good times. TEAM VICTORY aka my team, finished a close 3rd. the first two teams most likely cheated their asses off, but that is totally expected. what you get at the outing are lots of stories about yourself you'd sooner forget, and the same kind of stories about your friends you love to tell. both went on yesterday. i think i'll post one of each tomorrow.
it was also the woman's birthday so i had to cut the after golf festivities short to do dinner with her family. good times. not as good as 100 drunk washed up football players, but what is? actually had a really good weekend with her. i don't have any complaints about her at all. which is good b/c if i had this stupid blog a couple years ago with my ex, i could've easily filled up pages upon pages with nonsense. angry angry nonsense.
i hate my fucking stomach.
have you ever seen a grown man naked?
it's friday bitches!!!!!!
and i'm off on monday. three day weekend. can you beat that? i for one can not. taking off monday for my annual football alumni golf outing. to say it's simply good times would be a VAST understatement. imagine getting 100 drunk idiot ex-football players together with free booze and food. my senior year i was still drunk from the night before and shot the hell out of the ball. stumbling around the course the whole time. the next year i was drunk on mad dog and beers by the 7th hole. by the 12th i could barely see. i could probably tell a ridiculous story for each of the past 4 years of going. but i won't. i will say this. carts have been both flipped and ridden into lakes. the golf is then followed by a bbq and more beers. i am obviously looking forward to it with much anticipation.
but with everything there is a downside. the woman's birthday is monday as well. i am going to have to meet her and her parents out for dinner which may cut into the celebration. of all the days right? weak. it's all good though. good times will be had.
i also have my first softball game this sunday. good times is not even appropriate for that. just imagine 12 alcoholic retards that have all been friends since we were 10 getting together after a night of binge drinking. it is insults galore piled on top of piss poor softball displays. well, i shouldn't say that, somehow we manage to be pretty good. teams love us, as is evident in our crowds and cheering sections. teams hate us, as is evident in the bench clearing brawl we were involved in last year. awesome. we have a website dedicated to this which is fucking hysterical with pictures and all. i'm not quite sure whether or not to reveal it here. last thing i need to have some internet stalker. although since my site sucks and gets little action the chances of that happening are slim and none.
that's all for now bitches.
this job would be great if it wasn't for the fucking customers
ah, the brilliance that is (early) kevin smith.
i hate old people.
the ratio of old people to good looking girls in here is 15/0. that is very lopsided. oh god, why hast thou forsaken me? probably b/c i have a sordid past and i am catching retribution.
angry black men don't like me b/c i am a cracker ass cracker. this guy came in earlier and i could feel the hate coming off him. i heard him say, "white devil" under his breath. maybe not, but i'm pretty sure he was thinking it. doesn't he know i am down with the Wu? doesn't he know Cash Rules Everything Around Me? apparently not.
the girl that just came in literally makes me sick to my stomach. i hate looking at her. when she first started coming here she would hit on me to a disgusting degree. she didn't believe me when i told her i had a girlfriend, so i actually had to have the woman come in when this slob was here. i hate having to resort to those kind of measures, but the situation was getting out of hand. to the point she propositioned me to go into the back office for a while. the mere thought of that makes me dry heave. that's enough about here before i vomit in disgust.
my blogging skills pretty much suck lately. probably b/c i have so little to say. today not being any different.
on that note. peace bitches.
hundred miles and hour switchin lanes like whoa
it's friday bitches.
did you hear me?? i said it's FRIDAY BITCHES!!!!!!!
to quote carl from aqua teen, "that's freakin' awesome!" my cracker ass is in desperate need of a weekend. i may sleep from friday night straight through monday morning. instead, i'll barely get any sleep at all. why? b/c that is what my body needs, but won't get. i'll try, but something will happen and not allow it. stupid outside forces.
some girl that has a crush on me (and an eating disorder) came in and brought me coffee and a blueberry muffin from Dunkin Donuts. she did this at 5:45am, when she doesn't work. sucker. the coffee is black though, and thus poured down the sink. i have milk, but no sugar. fat chance i'm drinking that. black coffee tastes like hot ass. i feel bad for this girl. she works out for hours at a time, is skinny as a rail (unattractively so), and just plain doesn't eat. what she does eat finds its way into a toilet. any time i bring any of this up, her eyes well up and she looks like she might burst. i don't need that at work. however, i will take full advantage of the free food/drink she brings me. does that make me a bad person? hardly. the fact i once dated a girl for a couple months and then just stopped calling her and answering her calls does. this is small potatos. side note to the bad person story: i had left my guitar and a bunch of DVDs at her apartment and she changed the locks b/c i had a key. not good. so i did have to call her everntually and get all my shit back. not a good scene. hey, shit happens.
i have a spit cup next to me b/c my allergies are sent to me from satan himself. it is nasty, i will admit that freely. it's either use the spit cup, or walk over to the garbage can every time. i am way too lazy for that.
game....blouses
played basketball last night. luckily we did end up playing a cracker game. 3 vs 3 all night. then a taco bell run afterwards. it felt like i was 17 again. that's the kind of crap you can get away with at 17. a little harder 10 years later. in high school we used to play ball at my friend pistol's house for hours. hit up t-bell for some eats, then right back to playing ball. we did this every day without fail. we were even late to our junior prom b/c of it. needless to say our dates were very pleased with that. missed a bunch of picture taking time and everything. awesome.
i haven't had a good night of sleep in about 3 weeks. that sucks. waking up at 4:30 is for idiots. especially when i don't get to bed until midnight. i think i am slowly trying to kill myself. i've fallen into the routine of taking naps which are soooooo sweet at the time, but i feel like they are just putting a band aid on......i don't know. something that needs more than a band aid. i know that was a shitty analogy, but like i said, i haven't slept in weeks. get off my back. tonight's goal, asleep by 10. fat chance.
i believe i ordered the large cappuchino.....HELLO
i don't really have anything of value to add today. not that i ever do anyway, so why should today be any different?
it is awesome outside, yet i am stuck indoors for another 4 1/2 hours. damn you work. it will all be worth it as long as i get to play some basketball tonight. i attempted to play last night. but numerous black kids made playing a mockery. whoever got the rebound dribbled down the court and shot. so i left. it's sad really. oh well. i plan on playing some cracker basketball today. lots of screens, backdoor cuts, and jumpshots. how it is meant to be played. those of you that don't play basketball probably have no idea what i am talking about.
i grew up on the crime side, the NY times side. staying alive was no jive. we had second hands, mom bounced on old man. then we moved to shaolin land
is something wrong with me that when i think of monkeys they are always wearing human clothes and acting in human situations? and i think of this relatively often. for instance, the woman was talking about a project at work that involved contracting for a wind tunnel. immediately i pictured monkeys wearing lab coats and glasses. also they were walking around with clip boards taking notes in a serious fashion. then without warning they all starting laughing hysterically and doing backflips. is that weird? sadly to me, that is an everyday thought.
weekend was good. went to CT with the woman to visit a couple she is friends with from college. i'd met the wife before, and she is both cool and cute, which is nice. the husband was a good guy too, which made what could've been a horrible situation not too bad. unfortunately there was no making out or pillow fights with the ladies. very sad indeed. as much i as i talked about it you'd think they'd do it just to shut me up. no dice. i will say this, RT95 is the worst.
my allergies are going to drive me to do something very rash. it may involve ripping both my eyes and throat out b/c they are causing me great discomfort. i need clariton like a crackhead needs rocks.
someone told me earlier that the 3rd season for chappelle is not going to be aired. once again, this is something i heard, and could be totally unfounded. he said he broke his contract in some fashion. my guess, lots of drugs.......and possibly some white hookers. then again, i jump to that conclusion in most instances.
what the hell is chris berman wearing this morning on sportscenter?
harry, i said i took care of it
it's friday bitches.
did you hear me? i said IT'S FRIDAY BITCHES!!!!!!!!!
fridays are the best. every other weekday is the worst.
how do you take non solicited flirting advice from someone that is unattractive seriously? i do it by turning around and ignoring it. thanks, but no thanks pal. i think i'll be ok.
what i saw when i took a leak here yesterday: an old man parading around the locker room naked. sooooooooo could have done without that. the kicker is he sets up shop at the urinal next to mine, and leans on the top of it sweating profusely. lovely. you couldn't pay me to touch anything other than the handle on a public toilet. he then let out a moan like this was the best thing he ever did. and yes, he was naked the entire time. not good times. bad times. i'm sure this shit doesn't happen in a woman's locker room. or does it??
millions of peaches, peaches for me. millions of peaches, peaches for free.
i don't like peaches. so that song doesn't appeal to me.
I don't like being outdoors Smithers, for one thing, there's too many fat children.
what a great freaking quote that is. if you are not a simpson's fan, you are the biggest jerk in the world. if you are, sound off and leave one in the comments. come on, you know you want to.
for once the title quote is appropriate. if you were to see what this one woman is wearing, you would vomit immediately. it is that bad. i would love to discretely take a picture of her and post it. i won't for a couple reasons. i don't want to take a picture of her. and even if i did, i don't know how to post it on here. and if i did know how to post it, the whole process seems like it would take a good amount of time, and i am lazy. but take my word for it, it's not good. it involves a sports bra, spandex pants, and lots of cellulite. i repeat, lots of cellulite. don't these people own mirrors? for fucks sake. you can't walk out of your house and think, "damn, i look good." i know i've written about this before, but this is something i feel strongly about. people need to be told what they can, and more importantly, can't wear. in the meantime, i will just choke down the vomit.
what's a matter danny, mommy's not here to dress ya?
primus is the best. and i find it neccessary to mention that whenever i hear them. they are obviously playing in the background right now. if you don't like primus, you are the worst. chances are, if you somehow found your way to this site, you already knew that.
i am hoping my horrible neck/back pain will soon be a thing of the past. i have an appointment with a chiropractor this afternoon. the bonus part is, it is free of charge b/c he is a member at the gym. jackpot. some people don't believe in chiropractors, to them i say......nothing. i don't really care what other people think. especially about the pros/cons of back treatment. the bottom line is i have neck/back pain 24 hours a day, and have for 7-8 years. too much football does a body bad. any relief, even minor, will be a welcome change.
there was a sheet of ice on my windshield today. i was shocked and appalled. it is freaking may. enough with the cold already. i get your point cold, you suck.
i've started this sentence three times already. each time was less interesting than the last.
apparantly a lot of people do a search for "lime green hatchback" b/c i have gotten a good amount of visitors for the fact i mentioned it in a post. (i'd link to that post, but i'm not going to). for some reason i find that odd.
this post was really a waste of time.
you know it's hard being black and gifted. some times i just want to throw it all down and get lifted.
bitches.
i haven't posted anything in awhile. none of you care. that's fine.
my hatred of stuart scott is growing exponentially. keep in mind i already LOATHE him. his voice is blaring in the background. the reasons i hate him are many. i will only list two today.
1. he has a bad stink eye.
2. he talks both black and white. it all depends on who he is talking too. the funny thing is he mixes it up. oddly he chooses to speak black to john madden. it makes for awkward TV. don't the people who run ESPN actually watch the network? don't they realize how uncomfortable he makes everyone he works with? it is painful to watch.
less than 2 hours of sleep last night. that is great. i have to question the woman starting a serious conversation right before bed, especially since i need to be up at 3am to get to work today. i also have to question myself partaking in said conversation. weak. super weak. so it goes without saying that my ass is DRAGGING today. i will have to start shooting and snorting coffee b/c drinking it isn't cutting it anymore. or i should start doing 8 balls. either way, it's not going to be good.
at least i ordered some sweet nike shox online earlier. and yes, i already bought a pair two weeks ago. those were for running, these are for basketball. i gots to style bitches. i'd post a pic, but i don't know how, and i am lazy.
