Things To Do When Drunk, and Not in Denver (Male Whore Stories)

Things To Do When Drunk, and Not in Denver (Male Whore Stories)


Some years ago, I had a horrendous drinking problem. Not with alcohol, but I would drink liquids, but the contents would always fall out of my mouth. And I was usually shit faced drunk hen this occurred. In 1997, I worked at a pharmaceutical company in the help desk department. It was supposed to be a 8 week assignment, but I actually ended up staying there for an entire year. I had moved to my father’s ex wife’s house, here my brother and sister lived as well. It was all good in the beginning. I was making okay money for that time, and I didn’t have to pay much to stay where I was staying. There was one problem though. This was the most boring town I have ever lived in, in my life. There was absolutely nothing to do at all. If you ever heard of a one horse town, this was it.
The bottom line is that, there as nothing to do there. I would wreck my brain looking to find something to do all the time. During those days I wasn’t much a beer drinker, my drink as old grand dad, 100 proof. I can’t remember who put me on to it. I know it was one of my uncles. I had a killer toothache one day, and the pain killers weren’t doing for me that day. He told me “you need to get you some whisky, knocks it right on out.” The shit knocked me out right along with the pain sometimes. That was the beginning of my love affair with whiskey. At that point in my life, all I knew was weed anyways.

But in this one horsed assed town, I didn’t know where to cop from. I would have to take the train all the way back home, but then I would always wind up smoking it all up in my own hood. I would go back to the town, empty handed. I figured that my step mother wouldn’t think it was cool of me to smoke weed anyways. Especially, if the kids were around, don’t ant to be a bad influence. So, I just because a damned lush.

There was a little town bar, called the station café. There was nothing but middle aged to old heads in there. I felt like a fish out of water going in there after work at first, but in a couple weeks time, I was like norm from cheers. The bartender Charlie would ask me why I drank granddad. I didn’t know why at that point. All I know is that, I had a good sleep every night. He suggested that I try something called Johnny Walker red. Johnny and I became great friends. Took a day or two to know how I wanted it. It became, double shot, 3 pieces of ice, and a splash of water. I would easily drink maybe 6-7 of those a night. I remember it being maybe 3-4 bucks then.

One night I come into the bar, and there is this chick sitting in what I would say was my seat. It wasn’t a big thing, I was there to get shit faced. She gets up and walks to the back to go to the bathroom. She had one of the fattest asses I seen. My man Steve saw my eyes bulging out of my head, and came over to dare me to try to get with her. She probably had a few years on my then, could have been around 32 or so. She comes back and sits down, so I ask her how she was doing. Nothing. No reply. This chick is just rude. I am sitting right next to her. Rude assed bitch! There was music playing, but not that loud that she couldn’t hear me. So, I was like fuck her.

I walk over to chat with Steve, and he is like;

“What’s up playboy? What she talking about over there?”

“Man, fuck her, I was going to buy her a drink, but she can’t even say hello back”

“Why don’t you (he starts wiggling his fingers around like he was doing gang signs”

“What the hell is that? Is that how ya’ll pick up women in this town? Hand dancing?”

“I forgot to tell you, she is deaf youngin” (he LOL’s)

“(blank face)”

I go back and sit down, and tap her on the shoulder, and say hello. She nods and smiles back. I ask Rick, the bartender to get her a drink on me. She actually says thank you. But she sounded like Chewbacca from star wars when she spoke. Okay I’m thinking, fuck this, I will not be sitting here all night listening to baby chewy, shit made my dick go soft. I go in my bag and break out the notebook from work. And I start writing down everything. Like, what’s your name, age, etc. this went on for a few more nights. It was all good. By the end of the week, I didn’t even want to hit it. There was nothing wrong with her or anything, I just lost interest. But one night, she had her own little notebook, and wrote down in capital letters;

I AM SO HORNY RIGHT NOW


Bingo! It was about that time. I didn’t know anything about anything in this town, other than where I lived, and the bar. But I knew I wasn’t going to take her to my place. I had to find a hotel, motel or a holiday inn somewhere. I wanted to smash so bad that I had wrote back

LETS GET OUT OF HERE THEN.

We walk outside, without any destination in site. It was the winter time, so we had our gloves on. She could read my lips a little bit. I know from our notebook sessions, that she didn’t live close at all, she just hung out at the bar until her train came most of the time. And I don’t remember her living situation. I ask her where is a hotel at, she says to me;

“Rownnn noooob phlppptttttt, bongggg doof”

“Ohhhhhhhhhkay then”

Steve comes walking out of the bar, or I should say, staggering out of the bar. I ask him where a hotel is at that was close. He tells me about some starlight hotel that is like 30 miles away, and a cab would take me for about 35 bucks. Oh hells nah. But took one look at that ass. Fuck it, I’m game. Luckily for me, my siblings uncle was a cab driver, and I got out there for close to nothing. We get to the starlight. Thank goodness it was a short stay available there, I wasn’t springing for any over night, even if it came with a free breakfast.

Almost as soon, as we are in the room, her clothes were peeling off. She motioned that she was going to the bathroom to take a shower. Good shit, love a gal that freshens up before hand. I had a joint, so I was smoking as soon as I sat on the bed, while looking for flicks on the television. The joint was a phat one, full of goods, Cambodian. I’m sitting on the bed in my boxers, I put the joint out, I was good. She was in the shower what seemed like forever. She came out finally, and motioned to the half a joint in the ashtray. Sure, go ahead I nodded.

See this is the messed up thing. We couldn’t have a normal conversation. And when I smoke I start to analyze things to the finest point. But, oh man, that weed must have hit her something serious, she just started cracking up. Oh shit I thought, I was bugging, I was thinking maybe the weed would bring back her hearing or some shit. I’m silly like that. If it can help someone with glaucoma see, then hell, why cant it bring the deaf back their hearing? She was just giggling her ass off, and then attempted to “talk” to me. The fool I am, was talking back;

“You like the weed?”

“Wouuuuwnnnnnnnnn erbbbbbb”

“Yeah, its them goods, that cambo”

“Bllllpppt wounnnnn arbbbbbbbb?”

“No doubt”

What the fuck was I doing? She got a crazy look in her eyes, like she was about to eat me up or something. And in my paranoid weed thinking, anything is possible. She could be like a new serial killer or something. Kills men, and cuts their ear drums out or something, wears the drums as a necklace. Leaves notes in brail or something. Calls herself the Helen Keller Killer or some shit. At the thought of it all, I started laughing myself. I had a half pint of JWR in my bag, and started pouring myself a few shots, throwing them back. I gave her a few also. After the second shot, she pulled my dick out, and was going to town. I sat back, drinking the shots, and smoking a cigarette.

This was living. I felt kind of bad though. That damn weed will make your ass think a little too much. There was something that seemed a little bit immoral about it all. That ended quickly. There was a porn on the television. The dude was calling the chick all types of names, she was telling him what to do and how hard to do it.

A light went off in my head, this was going to be my shit talking debut. Now, up until that point I would say nothing when having sex. I would go in, do my job, and focus on the matter at hand. I had no time for small talk. But ah ha! Not this evening. The shit that started coming out of my mouth, I don’t even know if I can type them. I can, but damn. She starts to look up at me while my dick is down her throat, and I’m like; “don’t look at me hoe, just keep sucking that dick.” Man, don’t you know, you cant say no shit like that when your dick is between lips and teeth. Thank goodness she didn’t read lips that well, or heard vibrations of what I said. Or I would be writing this as Ole Stubby.

I’m not going to nut from head, never have, and probably never will. I was ready to fuck. I throw different rubber on, and I flip her ass over on her back. She wasn’t no amateur, that’s for damned sure. She threw her legs up, and held them up with her own arms. She did have me by like 7 years or so, no pussy like new older pussy I guess. One thing I could not get into was the deaf moans. I mean it was sounding like, like on national geographic, they go underwater to record the sperm whales mating calls. It was like I was fucking Chewbacca’s sister.

Just so I didn’t have to listen to her, I started making my own noise. This was a pure comedy fuck on my part. I was saying everything under the sun. I was drunk and high as hell. I am just like;

“Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh Bitttcccchhhhhhh, Take this dick hoe asses bitch assed hoe assed bitch!!!”

“Wounnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, ooooooooooooppppppppahhhhhh”

“What the fuck is oooopah hoe?!”

I got her on all fours, and man listen, the porn me, started all the shit I have never done before. I am pulling the chicks hair, smacking the ass with all the strength I could muster. She is digging this shit though.

“Urbbbbbbbbbb gwannnnnnnnnnnnnnnn”

“Yeah bitch”

She lost her damn mind when I was hitting it from the back. I had her ankles gripped in my hands, and her head was almost hitting the headboard, only to be stopped by one of her hands. One hand was switching from getting balance, and holding that ass open even more, while she was throwing it back something serious. The room had a mirror where I could see us in. the whole time I am sweating, and making fuck faces in the mirror. I mean I am striking poses and shit. Talking mad shit, I mean, she couldn’t hear me. I mean I am saying things like, I’m going to fuck your sister tomorrow, I’m going to fuck you until you hear what I’m saying. And as soon as I say the shit, I look in the mirror and crack up. I looked on the night stand, and Johnny Walker had a look of shock on his face. I pulled out for a hot minute to reposition her, so that I am standing on the side of the bed, and directly in front of the mirror. Now this is the first shit out of her mouth that I could understand. I was on some fuck it shit. I was about to put it in her ass. Why not, right?

“Uhn uhnnnnnnn, nooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu, touuu migggggggggg, touuu migggg!!!! Uhnnn Uhhnnnn”

“Really bitch? Thanks”

Oh man, I was terrible that night. After I came, I was too through. The weed, the liquor, busting an amazing nut had done my young ass in. i went in and took a shower, and as soon as I came out, I was out like a light. When I woke up, it was pretty much time to leave, I did call down to the front desk to extend the room stay for a few more hours, so I can get some more time to sleep. She had to go, she had her own money, so that was good. She wrote out that she would be at the bar next week. When I did see her at the bar, she saw me messing around with some chick and caught an attitude. I tried to explain but,

She wasn’t trying to hear me.

How To, or Not To Pick Up A Lady...

Brother: “What’s good ma, how you?”

Her: “Do I look like your momma or something? You need to come at me better than that, I will not be your ma, or no shit like that, with your busted ass. I don’t have time for you and your played out game nigga, so keep it moving. You will not be calling me ma and or whatever.

Brother: “Damn, what am I supposed to say, I don’t know your name.

Her: SAY goodbye.


Funny Animations @ Youvee.net


Brother : “What’s up shorty?

Her: “Shorty? Do I look like some motherfucking shorty to you, I DO have a name, you could have asked what my name was, as simple as that, but you want to come and disrespect a sister, like I am some child, needing to be called shorty, WTF is wrong with you lame assed niggas….

Him: “But, I was ju…..”

Her: “I don’t care what ya broke ass was trying to do, next time come at me with a little more respect, because I am not trying to hear none of your lame assed shorty, or ma, or whatever nigga, so KIM!

Him: “So, your name is Kim? Cool”

Her: “No, KIM, Keep It Moving nigga!


Funny Animations @ Youvee.net


Brother: “Hey ma’am, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Her: “Ma’am? MA’AM?!!! Do I look like I am someone’s ma’am? Do I look like some old negro spiritual or something, that you can just clown me, and try to make me feel like some geriatric long toothed fossil, that needs some young buck, ya damn clown, I am not in the mood for niggas like you! Ma’am my ass. My momma, you can call ma’am, not me. Not ya girl!

Him: “So what can I call you?”

Her: “You can call me OUT, because that’s what I am, ya no game having, dry dredlocked, single sole timberland wearing, ma’am calling son of a bitch, dry lips, ashy handed motherfucker!

Him: “WTF?!”


Funny Animations @ Youvee.net


Him: “Whadddddduuuuup Biotchhhhhhhh?!!!!!!”

Her: “HAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY”


Funny Animations @ Youvee.net



Me:


Funny Animations @ Youvee.net

STORE BOUGHT RANDOM THOUGHTS

Where in the hell is Natalee Holloway? I am serious, I have been wondering this for 2 years. I am deeply concerned. I mean, we need to care so much about white teenage party girls, whose parents pay for a trip way out of the country. I want to get some skin bleach, dye my hair blonde, and get lost in Staten Island, and see just how long the cops take to begin to look for me.

Sorry, my television in on the entertainment channel, so I was a little bit thrown of course by the typical American standard of beauty.

I haven’t written anything in a long time. I guess it is because I would use some type of anger to fuel my blog. Anger to me is good, when used in productive ways. But here’s something fascinating. I have not been pissed off in a long time. I mean there are a lot of things I can be pissed off about, but now, I could really care less. I find myself laughing more and more. And here is something else, since I have denounced the holy spirit and all the religion mumbo jumbo, I feel 100 percent better, and in some ways safer. No longer do I hold my tongue, because I may pay the cost at the time of my demise. I don’t think we need ten rules to tell us what is wrong to do in life. If you don’t know already that it is wrong to kill, just by a simple thought process, then you are just a fucking nut.

Like, I know it is wrong to sleep with a married woman. I have done it time after time in the past, and felt guilty, because I figured it was a sin. HAHAHAHA. Well, that shit is out the door. I say bring on the unhappy broads, and let me give them girth brooks in the rubber coated flesh. We know it is wrong, but we do it. It’s called human nature. We are all fucked up in some way. No reason to blame God or the Devil for what you do as a person. If anything, blame it on the stars or something, shit, at least you can see them.

This entry I can tell is going to be all over the place. Well, my birthday was on December 12th. A few days ago, and something must have happened during that wine induced sleep I had during the majority of the day. I had one long dream, and it was all about this last year I had. The deaths, the drama, the let downs, the fakes, the frauds, the liars, the cheaters, the assholes, the uppity, just damn near everyone.

I woke up, and just blurted out FUCK IT!

I have been giving people the benefit of the doubt for too long. I mean I am not the nicest guy in the world by any means, but I am loyal. I am to loyal, and tat cold have been the death of me at times. Even in times where I am being placed at the bottom of the totem pole by someone that say they give a shit about me, I still give them a second chance to prove their worthiness. Well, it is a new day ladies and gents.

While I was conscious, I thought about some people. Past, present, and possible futures. About 9 years ago, I met someone, we hit it off instantly then. Throughout the years, we remained in contact. There were times when we would lose contact briefly, but when we did speak, it was like there was no break at all. Like minds, both of us silly, and just sharing laughs, and everything, and of course there are the times when we do have deep conversations about important issues.

Before catching up again with her, I had many brief encounters. I don’t know if you can even call them relationships. I guess they were more like something to do. Even though I may have seen potential at times, it was never there, or there was something that instantly turned me off. I think I have had a problem in the past. My screen name is actually captainsaveahoecake, and that is what the problem is. I have been trying to save these hoes. By like making them feel that they aren’t hoes at all, that they are redeemable or something. But that is when I was a believer, everyone is worthy of forgiveness crap. Now, I’m like naw, you are a hoe. Will not be any casting out of the demons for your ass. I had met someone, and I thought it was cool at first. She had like 4 kids, 3 dads, didn’t work, I guess because they are getting that child support money. But even then, I saw a future, somehow. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, if you have a kid by a guy who is now married to a chick that you had a lesbo relationship with, but make and have the kid after they were married. That is too much for me. LOL, I mean come on, I like to watch Maury Povitch, and Springer and all, but that does not mean I want to be a guest or something. The sad thing is that people like this choose to not hear the truth, and would rather run away from absolute 100% truth, they think all is well in their minds. Or it could be a mason Dixon thing.

Now back to my girl. Through all the bullshit I have been through this past year, I realize that, in the back of my mind, she has always been the one. I may have sub-consciously ruined past relationships, because I knew she was still available. It is like finally we got to the point where we sat and talked, and said, okay, this is it, we are ready, lets do this. I need to clarify this, but I believe she gave me until April to get all of the whoring out of my system. Who wouldn’t love that? I am really ready to settle down, get married, and make tons of babies. As many as I can afford really. It is an odd feeling to have. In the past I know I was saying that I was ready, maybe I was ready, but I was really just ready for the right woman. A woman that I wouldn’t second guess. A woman who isn’t so insecure that they hate the fact that you had a past. A woman who you would introduce to your mother with no problems. I have never introduced any chick I dealt with to moms, mainly because they weren’t worthy. If it ever happened, it was an accident, like moms was walking down the street or something, other than that. Nope!

I have learned something else this year. Be careful of people who try too hard. I am very leery of people who over due shit. Or go all out to be soooooo nice. That makes my spidey sense tingle. Its like, if I go to my girl’s parent’s house for a holiday, the first one at that, and I buy only the father a gift, because he is the most important man in her life, then I am trying too damn hard. Obviously, I have ulterior motives. But then again I am not fake, at least I don’t think I am, and I don’t give gifts. Dmed that, it’s a gift to have me in your home bucko!

The year 2008 is going to be an interesting one for me. And I would hope a very good one, not just good, but fucking outstanding! In a couple weeks I will be moved into a new 6 bedroom house, with a lawn, and a water bill. I don’t wish, and hope that it will work out well, I know it will. I want to move in right damn now. I am still cheap, so I am looking for a used fridge to move in there. I don’t want to spend over seventy five bucks. Yup, I am frugal.

2008 is also the year where I cut off tons of people. My circle is small already at this point, but it needs to be smaller and more contained. The people in my life, I love them, but at times I do not like them. I had a brief stint in an out patient alcohol program, it didn’t work obviously, but there are two things I remember from those meetings were; people, places and things, I cannot continue to be around certain folks, I am not a follower, but I can end up in a situation where my freedom is in jeopardy because of my loyalty to some folks. Places I used to go to, tat were fun for me before aren’t anymore, I don’t drink like that anymore, I don’t have the urge to become the life of the party, now I’d rather sit and chill in the house with my red wine, read a book, listen to the secret or whatever. Things, thing be them hoes, lol. And INK, important, necessary, kind. This past year, that has been flashing through my mind so much, when someone around me says something that is just evil or dumb. I had a few exes that would hate on someone for no reason at all, INK INK INK, would flash through my mind like neon lights.

Around this time last year, I wanted t give up on life. I wanted to die. I wanted to die, so I could hurt people. But that is just silly. Today, I want to remain here. The only way I can hurt anyone now is by being the success I already am I am sure there are folks that want to see me dead, or something close to it. I have people daily trying to fuck with me, or want to be a crab in a barrel, to pull me down to the bottom where they love to dwell. Instead of being upset, and actually stooping there, I look down, laugh, wave my hand, and tell them good luck. My sister Asia told me something profound the other day;
“Hurt people, hurt people.”
As simple as that. I went back to a conversation I had with one of my best friends Mechelle, even though it was a silly conversation, I thought about it afterwards, and it meant more than what our dirty minds were saying at the time;
“If you can’t be with the one you want, love the one you’re with.”
And since I was alone, single, who do you think I had to love?

SUNDAY RANDOM THOUGHTS ~~~ AND I DO MEAN RANDOM

There are no worthy candidates running for president. I seriously do not know who is going to get my vote this election. I would elaborate on as to why, but I’m in one of them fuck it moods.

Boy oh boy, this year has been crazy. This week I am going to a funeral of another family member. This makes number ten this year, or one from last year, and 9 this year. Fucking bananas. RIP Uncle Jimmy. At some point you become numb to it all, because it is happening so often. Maybe I need to re read the secret, which was doing wonders for me in June of this year. My swagger may be about 89% back.

The dreams I have are fucking crazy now. I dreamt I was involved with some chick, and I traded my Mercedes in for a Honda accord. It was too damn weird, then the broad started hitting me, and made me buy her make up, and then tried to put the fucking make up on me because I was pale and sickly looking, and my head was three times the normal size of normal people, so she was calling me “ye ole palette face.” I would get mad at the name calling, stick my thumb in my mouth, and float away. While I was up in the air floating, I saw that I left my credit card, and before I could get back down, the chick snatched it, went and bought more make up, and over charged the shit out of it. But alls well that ends well. She gave me some brain, and it made it all worth it. Fucking weird. Maybe I need to start drinking again, because taking vitamins and eating healthy just isn’t doing it for me.

My kid brother has one more fucking time call me in the wee hours of the morning like someone just died or something. I don’t think even in my twenties I had late night drunk calls, that didn’t involve getting some pussy.

I am really rather impressed with this whole beer strike now. A friend down the street told me he was getting a mess load of those big assed keg cans of Heineken. Wasn’t even tempting to me. I’d pat myself on the back, but with no real liquor intake, there is nothing to mask the pain that can happen when your, over 30 year old body is reaching for places that should require a wooden fork instead.

Oh, I am very random. For some reason, I have been looking up all the dead wrestlers, causes of death and shit. Damn, they were fucking themselves up. No story more foul than the Von Erich kids. Talk about family curse. They were my favorites as a kid too. WCW was the shit back then, I think it was wcw. I don’t really watch wrestling like that anymore, but I don’t think they use managers like they used too. I am comparing it to hip-hop and the decline of the dee-jay.

I would like an ocean spray beverage right about now.

I think I may have to change my randomness. Because I may be attracting just what I am, crazy people. But the thing is, is that I am admittedly crazy. Last year, I think, I was dealing with some crazy chick from my job. It was going to be nothing but a jump off. These are things you just know. Besides, we already went there with that. So, the broad comes to my apartment. We are sitting down after I brought her a drink. We are just chit chatting about random stuff, I compliment her blouse. I guess the drinks was getting to me, I never compliment anything. She pulls her breast right out her blouse. I’m like, “hell yeah!!!!” Never one to be outdone by somebody, I pull my dick out. I know what you’re thinking, that it is about to go down. Not at fucking all;

“What are you doing?”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

“Why would you pull your dick out?”

“Tit for tat, tat being the nick name of my dick at the moment”

To her credit, she wasn’t that smart. Which is why this is just a jump off situation. If she couldn’t get the humor in that statement, there was no way this could go further than what it was. I mean, just a few days before when she came over, it pretty much went down the same way. Except she took her shirt off while saying how hot it was. This time she was clearly appalled though;

“Is that all you want to do? All you want to do is fuck me?”

“Oh, you want your tiddays sucked huh?”

“No, I don’t, I just want to talk, it doesn’t have to be about sex all the fucking time.”

“Uh huh, you do realize you pulled your tiddays out right?”

“I’m going the fuck home!”

That’s typically how shit goes round these parts some times. She did call a day or so later to explain that her shrink gave her a new happy pill to start using. Fucking lexapro struck again I guess. I can laugh now because I did some “testing” with it at one point. Say no to happy pills and yes to marijuana.

Had a long talk on the phone with my mother, and she told me some more shocking news from the past. Boy oh boy, I’m going to have to write a movie on this one person we discussed. I need to start asking her if I could record some of our conversations, they are always revealing.

Today time went back a couple of hours. Thank goodness for cable boxes, 24 hour news shows and a computer with autonomy, I don’t have to sit around fucking around with some clock.

My mother’s vcr still blinks 12:00, I refuse to correct it.

A friend just asked me outside, where was the liquor, I guess because it is so cold. Sadly, I had to inform her that I stopped drinking. But seriously, I could relapse because she could get the dick 8 days a week. And twice on double Sunday, because in my world, everyday is Saturday, and there are two Sundays.

I don’t care if what I wrote above made any sense. Chances are I am too advanced for most readers. I think way to fast, even for myself sometimes. I think so fast at times that my mind gets stuck, I lose my breath, I start to drool, and I pass out. Some people would argue that it could have been the acid I just took. But, I disagree.

I read some more bible passages last night/early morning. Do you know that if you lived in early testament time, there was always a big chance that God would get pissed, and get his smite on? Instant smite, from no where, well you knew where from, but you know what I mean. Man if I had the power to smite. I am thinking of testing a theory, it may fail miserably, but I’m thinking if I was to accidentally or purposely killed someone, that would be my defense in court. Or if I was defense lawyer, that would be the defense;

“Your honor, I did not murder that person, I had to smite them.”

The term is far better, and easier on the ears, than kill or murder. To murder is to sin, but to spite is divine.

At one point my kid’s mom wanted my, not yet born child’s middle name to be celestial, what the fuck was she thinking?

You know the online world is really the same as the real world, and the real world is a television show on MTV, and since it is on MTV, it has to be real, right? That being said, real life is as what we see on television. Phony, there are phone people everywhere you turn. Unfortunate for me, I tend to give a lot of people the benefit of the doubt. People from out of no where, from online will send me messages because due to this blog, my life is as open as I want it to get. For instance, there was an instance when a chick sends me a message about how her ex, doesn’t want to spend time with his kids since the divorce, and she and they were hurt by that. And just was sending me “some love” because they were aware of how much I love my daughter. But on the other hand saying I was fucked up because I exposed motherfuckers on here. Then draw there on conclusions for some shit they know nothing about, or do they? Hmmmmm. You just cant trust anyone. Too bad for them, I guess hubby got tired of some middle aged drunk woman, that he met while they where dancing on top of club speakers back in the day. Go get some Chablis wine and shut the fuck up.

My shoulder is in so much pain. I refuse to take pain killers. I cannot understand anyone that has to take pills all the fucking time. I mean, if it was a matter of life and death, then yeah. But to pop a million pills a day to have an artificial life? I mean, what if you are a very, very ugly person? There are no pills to correct that shit. At the end of the day you are still ugly. I mean, some would argue that maybe they want to be healthy. Okay, that’s fine and all, but do we really want ugly people to live that long? Some people are so ugly that, when you see them by accident, you spit out your coffee, and go to the nearest church to pray for sinning against their eyes. I have some pictures of myself floating around, from when I was a kid. I was very ugly, and that is why I got scheduled ass beatings. My parents were trying to beat the ugly out of me. I know now that this is why I was getting thrown around like a rag doll. Because, I was so gruesome. Yes!!! I remember when I was a kid, and my mom took me to the pet shop to get me some fish. I pressed my face to the glass and said helloooo fishieessss, and the motherfucking fish swam to the top of the tank and pulled down a shade. No fucking lie. I ran down the corridor, my mom was pointing and laughing at me, and a puppy took a shit, ate it, and spit it at me on my way out the door. This does not happen to attractive people. Matter of fact, my best friend as a child was a Puerto Rican that could not speak any English. I did not know until years later what “usted es un maricon feo” meant, and that’s all he ever said to me. One night I prayed to Jesus, to make me attractive, the next day I got a post card that read; “Re: Prayer, Out of office, will return: never.”

What’s funny about any of these references to ugly aren’t about physical beauty(except me), it is about character. If your character is ugly, if you are mean spirited, and vicious just a fucked up person, that makes you ugly. And when your looks fade, or when people get to know you for who you really are, and your character is ugly, than the outside doesn’t mean shit. But if you are ugly inside and out, then keep taking them vitamins.

Was mighty joe young the movie supposed to be a rip off of king kong? I’m sure it is, but I have never watched the entire movie. Something about giant gorillas and shit make me nervous. It seems racist somehow. Its like they are always about OJ Simpson and his pursuit of Nicole.

I like to think way outside the box.

Helicopter Are Invading The Burbs

Some time ago, I was involved in a great relationship, with a woman I will call TK. Or kitten I guess, thunder kitten is her name. When we first started dating we hit it off immediately. I was pretty much in awe of her. She had some idiosyncrasies, all of which I found to be cute. We were pretty much the same person really. The only difference was that she was in college, and I say fuck education. Not really, I just had to find a difference between us. Oh, I know what the difference was, we both had cars, but her license was the only one that worked. She is a very smart gal, the type of woman you hate to get in an argument with, because she always used those damned SAT words. A typical argument would be;

Me: “Why would you do some shit like that?

TK: “Why would I substantiate the obviousness of your obloquy about something
that is so much bullshit that I cannot fathom to even bring myself to exculpate
you this evening.”

And of course I would be upset hearing this, not only because I didn’t know what the hell it meant, but I was sure that meant no sex that evening. Evening, was the word I definitely understood. And the evenings were great. Her sex was like sprinkles of heaven at times. However, I always had a witty comeback to getting told off in such a manner;

Me: “Ya momma!”

Damnit, I’m smart too. But they weren’t ever really bad, and even if they were I don’t remember. However, there will always be a night that lives in infamy.

Sometimes, I would stay for the weekend, or stay for a night or whatever. She is an incredibly hard sleeper. I don’t know what I was doing on this night, I was either on the computer, or watching a dvd. She was sleeping, looking like an angel, and I was trying my best to fall asleep. I don’t know why, I just had some trouble falling asleep there. I am guessing it was because of the central air or something. Or maybe I needed a drink to take the edge off. But I am pretty sure it was that I didn’t bust a nut or something. Nothing says goodnight like a date with Pamela Handerson.

But, this night was different; she was tired from school or whatever, and looked oh so pretty laying there. Snoring, flopping around the bed, like a conformist on a Sunday morning at church. Now that I think of it, I was reading a book, in the little light I had to work with, the book was called Tuff. Good book, and I was pretty much into it. All of a sudden, I hear a motor cycle, loud as fuck outside. I was pissed off, it was maybe 2 in the morning, and this was a little cull de sac in the almost suburbs.

I jumped up, and went right to the window, to look to see just who the hell would be revving up their bike like that, this time of night. The nerve of these fuckers. They were about to wake up my sweet boo. I look out the window, but by that time the motor cycle was gone. And I was a hot head, I wanted to throw a brick at the rider of the bike. Or something. Since I didn’t see them, I went and sat back down, and began to read again. This time I was closer to the window, just in case the fucker came back.

Then I hear it again, but this time I was at the window, and I didn’t see shit. So I am now like, this is fucked up that a helicopter is hovering around this area this time of night. It was so loud. I mean the sound shook the whole house it seemed like. The computer monitor moved a little to the left. The cup of pennies she had on her dresser rattled. I was concerned with this, like, what if the shit landed in the middle of the complex. That would be crazy. The sound was unbearable at that ungodly hour.

PLLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!

It sounded like a giant 30 foot Cyclops put his tongue between his lips, and started to blow, and blow hard.

PLLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!

I turn back towards the bed, to wake up my sweet boo, to let her know a helicopter was about to land in the front of the house, and she needed to wake up. It could have been the government or something. I don’t know what, but the noise was loud enough, that it required her immediate attention.

So, I turn towards the bed, and I hear the helicopter again. The strange thing is that, the helicopter was under the blanket. The helicopter was under the blanket, hovering around her asshole, and apparently stuck underneath the blanket, and was trying desperately to escape into the room.

My sweet boo was no longer sweet. She was farting that whole fucking time. The shit shook the room. It made objects move. The fish that swam in the pond close by, stopped swimming. An ostrich walked up on the grass, and stuck its head in the lawn. Her neighbor, who was a devout atheist, jumped out the window praising god and apologized for not believing. Someone from Pepperdine University called me, and asked if my name was Richter. Michael Jackson threw his KY jelly out the window and told the boys to go the fuck home, and his sister put her titty back in her shirt. Wendy Williams became attractive. Nick Cannon became un corny, and Beyonce decided to sit the hell down. Yes, it was that serious.

I went downstairs to laugh my ass off for about 30 minutes. Of all the times I needed a video camera, this would have been it. I don’t think I looked he in the eye for the next week. Because all I kept thinking was that my sweet boo, had them damn Helicopter Farts.

Fin.

Been a long time
Since I dropped u a line
Hope that all is fine
And your life is good
My life is good
And my kids are great
I’m still in the hood
In the garden state
But wait we met
It was like fate
From the first date
Aint give it up - too soon
And kept me thirst-ay
Even on my worst day
You held me down
Like damn, I got a queen
I’m a buy you a crown
Damn, you kinda mean
But, I’m loving your sound
Damn, you was a fiend
When I was knocking it down
In between beefs
Arguments for nothing
It’s hard to stay in love
With bullshit assumptions…

I’m sure you heard from my family
The deaths and the drama
What else can god hand me
It’s chalked up as karma
But I have to keep going
There’s lives that depend on me
Had to stop drinking
Cancer is an enemy
Sometimes I pretend to be
Stronger than I have too
I miss our conversations
I need someone to rap too
Get my thoughts out
My dreams and my fears
The hopes and the tears
That I shed for years
Now they all bottled up
Need to pop the cork
Before I’m back in the court
For assault or murder
Yo, I tossed the burners
Try to keep it peace
I know you was shook
When I showed the beast
Miss you to say the least
You need to look
And see the beef has ceased...

Weed Chronicles

So, as I mentioned before about the marijuana and myself. A lot of these stories involve me and a friend of mine named Dre. We both worked at the airport back in the day, and like I said, we were instant friends. Friends in weed indeed. I don know what the fuck our problem was, we were just blatant with it. You see, we worked between two and ten pm, so we had basically the whole morning to smoke. From ten until one thirty, it was a smoky mess. Dre was the drinker, so he always had a deuce or two of old English or some shit. At the time I couldn’t stand beer, or liquor even. My, how times have changed I guess.

We would normally be smoking a blunt right up until we got to the parking lot of the job. I still don’t know what the fuck we were thinking of. But as far as I am concerned, it wasn’t really frowned upon then. All of us smoked weed, at least most of us did. We sold weed to one another like it was no problem. We got paid every Tuesday, there was a van outside that cashed our checks, shit was sweet. I could buy an ounce from someone on Wednesday, and don’t have to pay them until the next week. When I was selling, I wanted my dough right then and there. I guess that’s why I didn’t sell as much to in house folks. Haters.

This day will live in infamy. We were there for a while at this point, and we were pretty good at what we did. Fueling planes is a heavy assed hard job if you let it be. We never took lunch, always left early, and always had someone punch us out on the time clock. We pretty much had it made.

One day, we come in, glassy eyed. We laughing at shit tat wasn’t even funny. That morning, we smoked some pep, strong assed pep at that. The odor was just lingering. We didn’t care one bit. We was high as hell. But then again, I don’t think there was a time when we weren’t.

There was a big black dude named Bill. Cool as hell. Every guy that cam in he shook their hand, and told them to have a good day. He was the duty manager or something. Everyone respected the shit out of him, like he was the godfather or something. That is the kind of aura he had.

So, this one day, its all going normal as usual. Bill shakes both our hands, but he has this look in his eyes. You could feel it. The dispatch office was filled with everyone, because it was pay day, so it was pretty much packed. Bill calls us in the radio room. And it wasn’t like the room was private, its right where we went to pick up our jobs for the day, with the little window and shit. So it is pretty much visible. Dre and me are souped up, because we think he is calling us in there to give us a promotion, or a special assignment or some shit. So we was walking around to the door, laughing about pipe dreams we had, we just knew we was about to get some type of status or promotion. I mean what the fuck else could it be?

So Bill starts off;

“You know you boys are like my sons and shit, you both work real good, and we are glad you are here, but,

YOU TWO MOTHERFUCKERS ALWAYS SMELL LIKE THE BEST BUSH ON THIS SIDE OF THE MOTHERFUCKING PLANET EARTH, WE KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YA’LL DO, B UT GAT DAMNIT, CAN YOU BE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING OBVIOUS THAN TO ROLL UP IN HERE SMELLING LIKE THAT SHIT EVERY MOTHERFUCKING DAY? SHIT!!!”

Man, Dre and me collectively shrunk to about three inches. Bill was a little taller than us, but this dude looked like a giant that day. We looked to our left, and we saw everybody in a hushed silence. Managers, co workers, secretaries, everyone was looking like they wanted to just fall out. The assholes did. The assholes were the ones we were cool with. We didn’t even to bother go back out to the dispatch room. We slid our as out the back, embarrassed as hell. I didn’t even get the keys to my favorite truck that day. While we were driving on the ramp, we would pass someone, and hear shit like;

“hey bush brother, what gate you working at next?”

“at least bill didn’t say you smelled like the best pussy”

“wanna smoke during lunch bush brother number 1?”

Fuck you, was our responses. We had a dilemma on the way home. So we are sitting in the truck, smoking of course. Our peoples Derrick came up with the master plan;

“Maybe you dudes should just stop smoking”

Dre was like, “you know what derrick? How about you get the fuck out my truck and walk the fuck home?”

Yeah Derrick, shut the fuck up, dumb ass. Stop smoking? This nigga done lost his mind I thought. Even though in the back of my mind, it was an option. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, the plan was set. The next day, me and Dre went to walgreens. We bought everything in the store seemed like. Toothpaste, mouthwash, deodorant, cocoa butter, cologne, everything we could find to mask the weed scent, hell, we even got the new car scent.

Nothing changed, we still smoked until we got in the parking lot. But while in the lot, high as hell, I mean we were goofy high. We doused ourselves with cocoa butter, baby oil, right guard, cheap Walgreen cologne, we even sprayed the new car scent. We went into the office, still high, but not smelling life reefer though. We walk in, and we see Bill. As always, he shakes our hands. He then smells his hands, shakes our hands again, smells his own hand again. Gives us a funny look, and then sniffs us. And then he says;

“Ok, I guess ya’ll understand shit now, but, did you niggas break into my new car or something?