Lets Be Professional For A Second...

I haven't written on here in forever. Have no urge to. Too busy with shit to even if I had the urge to. But, anyway, where to begin...

Heart Shaped Taco. I was coming up with idea names for a production company, and that's what came out of my demented mind. Right now I own heartshapedtaco.com. As of this moment, that address forwards you to this blog for lack of a better thing to do with it. Scott wants to use that name for a shirt company that he's been wanting to do with me for years. Thing is, the only time we got the courage to go through with it, it involved me trying to buy Goolsby's shirt press off of him, and him never getting back to me when he decided to sell it and I made an offer on Scott and I's desire to buy it off him. But whatever. I have C.J. "PandaFresh" Ruiz, hopefully, drawing up a logo as we speak. What am I gonna do with it? I dunno. Maybe ask J.V. to do a Wolf Print limited run of t-shirts with that design on it until I come up with something better to do with my time and money.

Why did I even start thinking up this name and thinking of "production company" nonsense? Well, I decided to start posting concert photos on a Flickr account and have intentions of selling prints of them. Right now, some of them are up at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ramystein/sets/

Nothing too exciting right now. The real gems are stashed away in an old shoe box, sitting in some nether region of one of my bedroom closets. A shit-ton of photos of the Misfits and Mister Monster from the mid-to late 90s as well as some other horror themed punk bands I snapped photos of over the years I would sneak into clubs with a disposable camera down my pants. Well, they weren't always like that, some places let you take pictures and that's when my digital camera would come out.

But who cares. If anyone wants a print of some of the shittier shot pictures I have up now, get at me. I need to make an @heartshapedtaco.com email so I don't give out my shit to weirdos I don't need hitting up my personal email, but for now leave a comment on this, or text me if you have my cell phone #. If not, I dunno... fuck a duck.

Wiki Bombing: II

I know, I know, it's been a while since I did anything, let alone this, but I just haven't felt like writing shit anymore. I haven't filmed any hijinx in forever. I haven't really done much either. Wait, that's a lie. I fucked up my car last night due to poor decisions. But what can you say when you're killing off bottles of rumple minz and chasing it back with vodka sodas? You'd probably say something like "you have problems," but you're not writing this, are you?



Anyway, if you haven't figured out by now, I have a, lets say, distaste for Facebook. Of course, when I heard there is going to be a movie about the creation of Facebook, I almost vomited in disgust and disbelief that Hollywood has officially scraped the bottom of the proverbial ideas barrel. While I'm on it, it sickens me that there is a sketch group dedicated to Facebook. Paul Sheer and Rob Huebel, I am ashamed, sirs! But yea, here is my take on what the wikipedia SHOULD say for this page (via me vandalising it) and yet another reason Wikipedia is going to ban my computer at work from ever being able to edit it's website from here again:

(If you click on it, it will get biggerer and yous can reads it betters)

Upon re-reading it just now, I realize I made some spelling and gramatical errors... but do not care cause I'm sure it's already reverted back to what it was before I got my mits on it.

(F)ART

So, I don't get a lot of days to myself. Usually I spend them jerking off and watching shitty movies and/or playing Call of Duty all day until I get a phone call or text to meet up so-and-so to go get all kinds of Jean Claude Van Damme roundhouse kicks to the face kind of drunk.

This week I decided to clean up my room that's been in shambles since I moved back to NY from Jersey (Yes, I am that lazy that it's taken me THIS long to start to clean shit up). Anyway, I stumbled upon some interesting stuff. Top of the list is a Derek Jeter rookie card I found in titty mint condition. Other shit, that I can deal parting with, I'm throwing up on ebay.

Anyway, I found some old "art" from my last 2 years of high school. Basically art requirements are nonsense like sculpture, photography, and my senior year was the first year they offered graphic design. I think all but one of the sculpture pieces I did got smashed in some drunken baboonery involving my friends and I. I convinced TJ to take pottery with me cause the school forced him to take an art class because he had too many free periods in 11th grade. He hated me for it, but we had some laughs. I also recall having problems with some over weight wanna be ghetto asian girl who looked like she ate Godzilla. Not that I so much had problems with her as that she would call me a satanist at any given moment and go off on me about how I was going to hell (apparently all you had to have was black hair and a Danzig t-shirt to be called a Satanist non-stop back in those days... I don't think much has changed, but whatever).

That is ONE thing I made in sculpture class (to the right) I think was stable enough to be tossed around like the town whore and didn't break due to stupidity. What is it? I have no fucking clue. I just started chiseling at it until I realized I was shaping a head... then from there I made some mongoloid shaped humanoid out of the damn thing. My teacher thought I meant for it to be of Elephant Man proportions.

Photography was a joke to me too. It involved me and a large group of my friends spending the entire class throwing shit at each other's heads in the dark room and making up excuses that we were cutting class to go "explore the world through our lenses". I would sarcastically take pictures of the corners of my room and angle them all weird cause I thought all that photography was, was a bunch of retards taking weird angles of every day shit (ironically, the sarcastic shots I took were always the ones that got put on display in the school galleries). Basically I took photography class to get free film (remember that shit?) so that I didn't have to pay for it when I'd go to take pictures at shows. I still have some of the prints lying around here in a binder too (which reminds me, I need to find my box of photos from concerts. I better have not forgot it in Jersey, cause lord knows I'll never see them again if that's the case).

Here's a shot from the pit at a Mister Monster show from either a show in December of 2000 or January of 2001. This was put on display for some reason in a gallery by my school (obviously I didn't even take the picture and I don't know how I got away with claiming this shot as my own work). You can see how messy and unkempt my hair was after I butchered it all off. Besides my nappy ass hair, the shot includes J~Sin's arm putting the mic into the crowd for the sing-a-long part of the song Resident Evil. There's Riz to the right (all I remember about that kid was he wanted to be the bassist of Mister Monster and he lived down the street from Steve Zing). To the right of my face is Ox's head, and also, I believe that's Germs' nose between Riz and Ox's heads. The shot was from a show at this place that weeks before we went there, unaware I'd be coming back there a few weeks later, me, Dennis and George drove by the place as I mooned the entire line outside the club one night when we were bored as shit and decided to just go joy riding around Manhattan. I think the main reason we did so was cause we went in the Ford Expedition his family got right around the time that SUV first came out and was the hot shit on the streets. Obviously we were feeling QUITE baller that night. Baller enough for me to expose my bulbous, pasty white ass to a crowd of unsuspecting strangers. Thank God nothing horrible happened.

Another shot I found was a self portrait that had my friends laughing their asses off when I developed it. Too bad I sucked at developing pictures and this one came out too light... or proves that I need to put some color in my skin.

I call this one "Duh", or possibly, "dur". Some fruit cake I ended up getting into altercations with tried making a fake guitar pedal called the "goth blood pedal" or something equally retarded in name, and used this photo as the logo... I hope that kid gets run over by a steam roller, where ever his waste of life has taken him.

Graphic Design was another class I'd fuck around in. My teacher hated me. Well, maybe not me, but my taste in humor and art. I can't find the picture, but I recall we had to free-hand draw something, scan it, and then enhance it with photoshop by outlining it and then coloring it in. I drew Jason Vorhees dripping in blood and wielding a machete. She yelled at me to not make him so violent. I sarcastically asked her "would you prefer I have him holding a bouquet of posies?" She just gave me a dirty look and told me to fix it up or she'd give me an F, so I just erased the machete all together. Fucking censorship.

But yea, here's some ones I did find mildly entertaining:

I think this assignment was to make a movie poster and cast our own cast. I chose to make the Spawn movie and have Tiger Woods in the lead role. It could have been great... or of devastating levels equal to that of Tommy Wiseau's The Room.

This one was that we had to design a trading card package. I made Wolverine trading cards, "Only $1.50 Bub"

The backside, that is upside down in this scan, said:

"Legal mumbo jumbo: Wolverine and anything in his image is (c)opyrighted to Marvel Entertainment Inc.

RAMY(tm) and Ramy Card Company Inc. are not really (c)opyrighted... But you could imagine."

The barcode also had some comic nerd references for the code atop the bars, but I doubt anyone cares THAT much.

Here, we were asked to design a CD booklet and back cover. Here's the cover and the page you'd see when you opened the CD case. I designed a Mister Monster live album. All I did was take screen shots from the original and 1990's remake of the Night of the Living Dead movies and slap on some photos of Mister Monster live from some dump bar called Desmond's that was downtown. All I remember about that bar was it was packed with dudes in suits getting drunk and singing along, off-key to Nirvana songs (if that's even possible to sing off key) which would clear out once all the goth and death rock kids would show up to see the horror rock bands play.

...my teacher wasn't too pleased that every other photo included someone covered in blood or a zombie devouring someone (wait, EVERY page included the previous mentioned statement).

And yea, that's about some of the last times I ever attempted to show my artistic spirit to the public any more.

Great Night Followed by Shitty Morning

This weekend has been great. I got a framed picture of a painting done by Dave Brockie that he signed "Oderus" (he's Oderus Urungus from Gwar for those of you not in the know). Why? Cause him and Mike Derks in his Ballsac the Jaws of Death persona were in Brooklyn the past 2 nights hosting the Crack-A-Thon. It was a little art show/hosting show of sorts? I dunno. It was basically an excuse for the two of them to blase obnoxious mock-German techno and interview whoever their guest per showing was. I went with Jared and Desiree. Of course, out of all the cool people they mentioned they already had as guests and all the guest coming the day after, we get gypt. They talked with Lloyd Kaufman, creator of the Toxic Avenger, and some dude dressed up as Toxie (read that as it apparently was just Lloyd and Oderus Urungus mocking each other the entire hour), they prank called Jello Biafra, they had Jamey Jasta come (not like I even like Hatebreed or anything) and they were having Andrew WK come to play piano and some other shit the next night (not that I care about Andrew WK, but I'm sure his antics would be amusing).

Who did we have? This girl whose name was something like Reverend Jen? I don't remember. Also, I had met her before. YEARS ago, when Dennis was interning with that Anarchy/Comedy Troupe who went by the name Toolz of the New School (remember those Guliani is a Jerk stickers? Yea, they made those... I think TJ still has that sticker on his bass... if he still has his bass). She still wears those fucking troll ears and talks all retarded sounding like a troll too. I think the only highlights of the night with her were when they guy working the projector put up a picture of her house (she's a big troll doll collector or something) and Oderus Urungus looked at the picture and goes "I wouldn't wanna fucking live there." When she asked why, he responded "it looks like someone wiped their ass all over your walls." The other part was, when she was reading a passage from her book that she wrote (which is basically abouse sexually depraved incident after sexually depraved incident), the phrase "3 un-princess like orgasms" was introduced to my vocabulary. OH YEA, and how can I forget this litle gem of stupidity pulled by Brockie. This girl was droning on about God knows what, and Brockie just falls, face first onto the floor, smashing through his mock interviewing table. People didn't know what to do, and as Jen, or whever the fuck that freak bitch's name was, starts to help him up, Derks just goes "don't help him, he falls all the time."

Fast forward to not getting the re-release of Sick of it All's first 7" or any of Pantera's re-releases on vinyl because unlike normal people, I work on weekends and get fucked in the long run as usual. What I'm trying to say in my half witted, barely sober mind is that shit was sold out and the girl behind the counter sarcastically told me "you're like, 8 hours late for that, dude." I looked at her, brow furrowing, and retorted back with, "Yea, you see, some of us have to work on weekends, if you're capable of realizing the fact you yourself are working right now. I couldn't make it. There's none left?" But, of course, I already knew the answer was no. Fucker.

Oh, and me in a good mood, you ask? How can I forget I found xanadu? Where you ask? Kate's in the east village. Jaerd and Desiree introduced me to the place. I've heard the name a million times, but I couldn't figure out why. It is a bar, with an all vegetarian/vegan menu, and I was then informed while eating, that this is the place Danzig throws all his post-NYC concert after parties. Sir, I don't think I have to inform you that the mixture of booze, good eating and Danzig make me as happy as a bear rolling in a bathtub full of porridge. I ordered this thing called the McKate. If you couldn't tell by the "Mc" in the title, it was their answer to McDonalds. BUt what? It was a fucking vegan Big Mac. Dude, not only was it amazingly awesome to the max, but it was amazingly awesome to the max. I need to go to that place as much as possible. I may just start showing up to Jared's unexpected like a fucking crack head just as an excuse to go there more... that or find someone else besides him and Desiree who wouldn't mind eating there and getting drunk.

Oh, and last night, I don't even remember most of it. I remember meeting up Dan later, then Ken met us up. Ken is GONE already from hanging out with these scum he knows. They keep feeding him shots, and finally Dan tells him to stop taking shots and get some coffee. Scott at this point is taking shots of tequila away from Ken and it dawns upon me that Scott is already a few gin and sodas in and then there was that vicodin... and I just say to myself I better not have to lug his dumb ass around in a few hours. No, no. I was the idiot this night. I don't remeber much. We went to the dreg bar across the street from where we were and Scott is ordering us shots of tequila. More tequila. And then some more tequila. Doubles of vodka soda and tequila is all that's in me. Maybe a slice or cheese too? I can't remember. I don't recall eating anything yesterday since whenever it was I went across the street to get lunch/have an excuse to oogle at the boobs on the girl who works there (Yes, I'm a classy mother fucker). But yea, where was I? Oh yea, so, Romil eventually meets us up after his date to say what's up before he goes home since he was in the area. At this point, I'm so drunk I'm opening the top of the tank to the toilet bowl in the bar and pissing in it, so when people flush, more piss comes out. Why I did this, I dunno. Maybe cause I thought it would be funny to do an upper decker, but couldn't muster up a turd, so I decided the consolation prize I'd give them was a tank full of piss. Yes, fucking tequila. I see Romil and all I really remember was hugging him and apologizing for I don't even remember what. Possibly for being an idiot? Who knows. You could tell Romil wanted to tell Dan or Scott to take my keys away from me, but if you just knew none of us were capable of driving so whatever.

The night ended with the Scott, Dan and I walking aimlessly looking for the car, as Dan is yelling at the two of us that not only did we walk a circle in the wrong direction trying to find the bar, but we can't even find my car, after I texted myself the corner it was near knowing I would forget where I parked it. Finally find it and head uptown to Inwood to drop off Dan. Instead, we go to Fidel's to get food. I stay in the car while Dan and Scott run in to grab some grub. As Dan and Scott were coming out, they were horrified to see me, standing in the street, dick just hanging out of my pants, as I am pissing all over the place and Dan just looks at me and goes "OH COME ON! Fuck this, I'm going home, talk to you later," and stormed off into that gentle night.

Scott eventually got in the car and we're such messes we just shoved food in our mouths like neanderthals. I'm sure if you were there, all you'd hear was grunting and heavy breathing as we ate the fuck out of our food. All else I recall was me driving with one eye open and then waking up this morning not remembering how I got to my bed... or home for that matter.

Writing this, it makes me think that I should compile a book of my best tequila fused stories and publish it with the title "The Tequila Cronicles". I mean, Hunter S. Thompson had the Rum Diary, why can't I have this? Yes? I figure if I did go through with it, it would just mean I'd go to Scott's, kill off that bottle of Montezuma Tequila I bought as a half-joke, and then go out and bring my Flip with me so even if I get black out drunk, the flip will catch the majority of myh antics. Maybe I should. I could write off my bar tabs as a business expense, right? Someone needs to get on my ass about this, cause if you know me, you know I am one lazy mother fucker.

Old Man Ramy

So, I am MC Hammer kinds of broke and am too down and out to head out tonight, so, like a loser with no friends in high school, I am spending my saturday night playing video games and watching tv... and wondering why I cannot fall asleep (might have something to do with some pills I took earlier that warn not to take in the evening because it will cause restlessness).

SO, here goes some rantings that you'd expect from an old man... but I'm not that old, so deal with it. (if it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure I'll end up looking like a mix between Old Man Logan and Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino if I actually live long enough)....

First of all, is it just me, or are PSA commercials getting lamer as I get older? I grew up with shit like "This is your brain on drugs..." and "I'm not a chicken, you're a turkey!" Now it's shit like don't get into sexting with your boyfriend and, the new one I just saw tonight, "don't text and drive, it can wait." I dunno, maybe Scott is right and I should open my own driving school to teach people not to go crashing their car from being on the phone/texting... I mean how is it I've gone this long with pulling off shit like driving a manual transmission while smoking a cigarette AND texting all at the same time? Jedi-like reflexes? I dunno.

Another thing... a Polish president died and I am yet to hear one Polish joke dealing with planes crashing and their leader. Come on now people. During the 2008 election, Obama wasn't even officially elected president yet by the time I had gotten a swarm of black/president jokes texted to me up the wahzoo. Ok, so I heard ONE joke so far, but I mean come on, "How many Polish people does it take to crash a plane? A: One president", really?

Speaking of this current event, has anyone noticed on American news casts, whenever something "serious" like this president crashing, the guy who does the monologue over the visuals of people crying and what have you is 99.9% of the time a British dude. Why is that? Do we think "oh, British sounds serious and dignified?" Well sirs and madams, I give you this:

and, looking for that video just made me realize Youtube now has that stupid "likes it" option ala Facebook. Really, are people that retarded that we have to go from a 5 star points system to fucking mongoloid facebook ranking statuses? I've said it before and I'll say it again, that website is horrible. Yea, I'm probably just saying it cause I went to school with that html coding thief who "created" Facebook and didn't like him, but shut up. Another good idea scott had, is to rent out a bar and throw the most hedonistic, ancient Rome/Greece, tits and booze flying everywhere, celebration the day that website goes up in flames.

and I am so not looking forward to that queermo, Justin Beiber, being on SNL in a few moments. I just know there's gonna be a skit or two that integrates him into it. People need to learn he is horrible... about as horrible as Facebook. What is wrong with people? They play that shit at bars, and Miley Cyrus. Are people 21 and over that fucking dim-witted that we have to listen to SHIT at a bar? It's bad enough I was subjected to wanna-be guidos on top of each other last night, but to have to be subjected to these miscreants of society AND beyond absolute zero of horridness? Apparently so.

I dunno, I'm sure there's more I wanna rant about, but SNL is on and I'm gonna go watch it until I eventually pass the fuck out. Maybe I'll continue with my rantings tomorrow... at work... when there's nothing to do... which is always... because my job sucks and I am too much of a lazy fucking bum to do anything about it to better my life... cause I like to bitch and moan and am a giant slacker... like so big a slacker my picture should be in the dictionary next to that word... and I'm gonna go now... seriously.

My Bad Luck With Cars and a Funny Tale of Jeff's

So, I dunno what the fuck is up with people lately. Maybe I'm just having bad luck with yet another thing, cars.

So, the usual daily driver I've been driving is basically done for. I got a Camry to replace the old Chrysler as my daily driver. But, here's the thing. I almost got hit or run off the road several times since I got this damn thing.

Day one. Nothing too bad. Well, on my drive to the DMV to switch the plates from the Chrysler to the Camry, I bore witness to a Taxi nail right into some moron driving an Impala who may or may not have ran a red light and smashed right in front of me. The Impala spun a good 90 degrees upon impact. The weirdest thing of all, though? There was no dents, not even a scratch that I could tell on either car. I mean, I didn't stay long to check since I had to swerve around the two cars and get around any other oncoming cars so I didn't get into an accident myself.

Nothing else really happened that day. WELL, I went to the NY Auto Show and realized it was quite possibly THE WORST car show held by them that I have ever been witness to. There was barely any cars there, and the cars that were there sucked. That, and all the animals of New York seemed to be there taking pictures and videos of themselves in luxury cars. On the ride home I did however have to slam on the breaks and swerve because a deer lunged right in front of me. I'm sure the neighbors enjoyed me honking the horn and cursing out a fucking deer at 2 in the morning, though.

Today, thought, was horrendous with horrible close calls and other road side oddities. Lets see, where to start. Oh yes, at around 7:15am, a short bus literally ran me off the road getting off the Mosholu Parkway in the Bronx (I've been cutting through Grand Concourse lately to skip traffic on 87 to get to Harlem on time in the morning). This damn idiot cut in front of me so hard that I had to swerve and hit my tire into the curb on the off-ramp... thus leading to me cursing like a demon at a fucking bus driver.

Incident #2 today: on my drive home for lunch, I was driving down the Sprain and a ghetto ass mongoloid, dew-rag whipping in the wind, was speeding, and for some reason, decided to cut right in front of me, causing me to slam on my breaks, swerve, and yet again curse up a storm.

Incident #3: Driving down the Mosholu, AGAIN, there was construction. The left lane had to merge into the right lane, the lane I was in. Everyone was merging into the right lane like human beings... except this one fucker in a white Dodge Charger. Captain Cool decides it's a better idea to gun it as hard as possible into the orange construction barrels, and cut it into me, ONCE AGAIN, causing me to slam on the breaks, swerve, and this time gun it after him screaming like a lunatic out the window.

But, this incident wasn't the only one in this drive into Harlem. Shortly after, a cretin in a mini van started tailgating me shortly after I got off of Grand Concourse and crossed the 145th street bridge. This time though, I must've pissed her off for not going insanely over the speed limit, so she cut around me and gunned it... RIGHT INTO A FUCKING BEE-LINE BUS! You know I pointed and laughed as the woman was backing her mini van away from the bus to see she smashed in the entire right front side of her stupid mini van she decided to try and drive like Steve McQueen in.

And then, after all was said and done and I was heading home from Harlem for the day, I turned the corner from Convent Ave onto 135th street, I was a few seconds late to witness another mini van slam into a brand new Chevy Suburban that was used by a limo service. As I was trying to get around the traffic caused by this situation, some mongo in another mini van flies around the corner and nearly clips me. I gave him the look of death as he had this scared look on her face.

The final situation, at least with me driving this car today, ended up with a stand still traffic jam on 87 headed north. I tried getting off the off ramp to head to Central Ave to get around traffic via the Sprain. Problem was, two trucks swerved in front of me and made it impossible for me to get off 87 without hitting either of the two trucks... so, being completely fed up with all the close calls and situations that I went through today, I decided to just floor it in reverse and then drive off the on ramp, backwards, to get onto the Central Ave and take it home from there. Yea... and this isn't the first time I've done that either (although, the levels of my sanity the first time were questionable as well, but for other reasons).

Oh, and so, in other news, my sister and I went to Dingbatz tonight to look for her credit card that she realized she left there last time we all went there on Saturday to see the show. On the way there, I can't count how many times my sister got cut off (and yes, most of which were mini vans doing so). On the GWB coming home, a suv kept swerving til my sister honked at her, when we passed them, they honked at us and we realized it was just a buncha angry Hasidic Jews who began shaking their fists at us. Then there was the girl we saw being held down by 2 cops as a EMS guy was trying to hop the divider from the other side of the Saw Mill. I couldn't hear what the girl was screaming, but she looked all kinds of drugged up and trying to resist arrest. This was followed by seeing a swarm of cops left and right flying up and down the north and south sides of the Saw Mill. Fucking random.

In other news, I'd like to share a quick but funny story Jeff told me about the last time he was working the bar at the Grand Ballroom in NYC. It was for this benefit for Haiti that Sean Paul was throwing. First of all, Jeff said to me and Scott "I have never seen people so disgusting and animalistic people he has ever seen... and this is coming from me." Jeff starts his story by telling us that within the first 2 hours of the event, all the Hennessy had been drank. Keep in mind it was a 9 hour event and the place was supposed to have enough to last all 9 hours. People kept coming up to him, demanding Hennessy and he kept telling them there was none and saying shit like "I can't serve you any cause you drank it all." One guy offered Jeff 200 bucks for a bottle thinking the place was holding out on the people for some reason. Jeff was saying how the ballroom buys Hennessy bottles for 80 bucks and 200 wouldn't be near enough to pay for one if you were to buy it at the place (if you don't know how bottle service is charged, they figure how much each drink costs per serving, and then multiply that by how many servings are in the bottle). Jeff then said, at one point, bouncer came over to Jeff and asked him how the night was going for him. Jeff went on to say these people drank all the Hennessy, weren't tipping him at all, and that they were just straight up disgusting and rude to him. The bouncer went on to say that in all the years he's been working as a bouncer, he has never seen so many fights break out in one place, and that he had to break up a fight every 5 minutes or so. By the end of the night, when they were closed and people were breaking down the bar for the night and cleaning up, Jeff did his usual rounds of the place to see if anyone dropped any money or weed on the floor during the concert. Instead, what he found was torn out clumps of weaves, splatters of blood and used condoms strewn across the floor.

"Summarize"

Since Thursday afternoon, up until maybe yesterday, my life was a whirlwind of stupidity and indulgences.

Lets see. Highlights of Thursday include meeting up Kyle, heading to the east village with him and my sister, wandering for a bit til I decided to take the 2 of them to Blue and Gold. We hung out there for a bit and sucked it up with dealing with the bitter, stuck up, a-hole bartender (which is basically anyone that place employs if you ask me). My sister eventually left around the same time Kyle's friend met us up for drinks. Around this time, we also decided to trek across the LES. Noting much went down. We went to one bar with a cute bartender (which is around the same time I started getting these chalices of gin and soda), and um... what else? Oh, I not only convinced these 3 homeless guys that I didn't have any money, but that I too was homeless. Bad idea, since after the convincing was done, I was bombarded with helpful hints on how to stay warm in the cold months and where to look for free to substantially low priced residency. Then they asked me why I was hanging out with two kids who obviously had money to buy pizza and not get me pizza. This is around the time I kinda just scampered off after saying something that was just me verbally trailing off, followed by me trailing off physically.

The night was pretty mundane for the most part after that, except for when we me and Kyle were going back to my sister's. For some reason we got on the wrong side of the tracks. We were on the west bound side when we needed to be on the east bound, headed to Brooklyn. What did we do? Well, first I calmed Kyle down and told him we could just walk up the stairs and go around to the other side... of course I lead us to the wrong set of stairs, and lead to Kyle freaking out and jumping on the tracks and running across them to the other platform. Of course, I being a drunk idiot followed as everyone had this mortified look on their faces and stared us down afraid we'd do something else equally crazy.

Closest thing to crazy done after that was me stare at this subway poster for that movie Date Night. Stare at it good til I noticed a slight tear in Tina Fey's face and then well... this:

Friday, we laid there on the couches in my sister's apartment for a good chunk of the day. I eventually left, went back home, showered, changed, packed a bag, and then was back out the door to go back to my sister's to meet up Kyle. Ended up having a burrito the length of my forearm waiting for Kyle to get back from McSorely's. After arguing that i refused to drive to Philly, we got on one of those Chinaman express busses to Philly. Within 5 minutes of the bus leaving the "station", the emergency escape window busted open. I couldn't help but laugh for some reason as the Asian kid sitting in one of the seats next to the window just up and yells "HOLY DOG SHIT!" and started freaking out a little.

Then there's the fight between these two FILTH bags in a Acura TL decked out in racing stickers and those obnoxious mufflers that look like they are coffee bean cans got out of their car and started yelling at the woman in the BMW behind them in traffic (I guess the woman tapped their bumper? Who knows... those people were FILTH).

Eventually, Kyle and I got to Philly, met up his friend Alexis, and her friends at some bar in South Philly. We dropped our shit off at Alexis' place, met her roommate and some dude she was hanging out with in a tweed jacket.

From there, we went to some punk house to see a buncha "thrash" bands surrounded by people drinking and/or letting loose to the bands playing. This was followed by kids skating and riding bikes around the house and then followed by us, once again stopping off at Alexis' to drop our shit off, convince Lauren (Alexis' roommate) to come out with us, and then head to some bar that had karaoke done by people who could not hit a single note when doing Weezer songs. Highlight of that bar was this girl singing some Blondie song and basically getting all hot and bothered while bombed out of her mouth til the Karaoke host got mad and yelled at her to not molest his equipment (talking about the karaoke equipment, not his penis).

After this, we headed back to the apartment or whatever you call the place they were living in. Drinking like retards. getting high left and right. Being brash to 2 of Alexis' friends that came over. Etc, etc. This went on til about 6:30am when I passed the fuck out on the futon and woke up to everyone being loud a few hours later.

Highlights before we left back for NY were me stumbling upon an original pressing of the Reagan Youth album, an original Black Flag "Louie, Louie" 7" and um... I think that was about it. Oh and sushi right before we had to run to the bus before it left back for NY.

Rest of Saturday consisted of ANOTHER punk house show, this time in a loft in some run down building located in some bad part of town, that was all industrial. This was then followed by showing up to Lucy's to meet up a very inebriated Jared on his birthday followed by me and my sister losing Kyle. Did I mention that it was the most packed I've ever seen Lucy's in all the years I've been going there ever since Jared and I discovered that bar about 5 or 6 years ago?

My sister and I left early to look for Kyle (who was sitting on my sister's couch when we walked into her apartment).

Sunday was nothing but my sister driving me out to Loki's. We hung out there, watched Wrestlemania and all I really recall about that besides having a really good time, was Shammy telling me that if I want to get back in shape, maybe I should consider not drinking gin straight from the bottle as I talked to him about getting back into shape. Oh, and apparently when my sister dropped me back off at the house my mom was still up and somehow ended up going from conversations about ragging on people I used to know and then got into me demanding to her that I marry Lady Gaga over and over. This was followed by my mother repeatedly telling me I was drunk and to go to sleep. This went on til about 4am.

Monday is where I took a break... kinda. Yea, I guess. I was supposed to get a lot of shit done Monday. All that ended up happening was me going all the way out to Jersey with a tow truck to tow my Cobra outta there to take to a shop to have a new motor dropped in it, but this never happened cause some girl parked her car right in front of the garage door and I couldn't get the car out. I came back home, FURIOUS and then all else I did was order a pizza, lay in bed the remainder of the day, and then pick Scott up from the subway in Yonkers where he repaid me with Taco Bell. Pretty mundane night.

Last night I planned on sleeping all day. I did a good amount of that, which I guess was good since I feel like utter shit (may have something to do with Kyle and my sister repeatedly coughing on me from Thursday until Sunday). I was awoken later in the night by Dennis calling me and showing up to my house to take me off to Romil's for his b-day which consisted of me sitting there looking sickly til the movie started (we went to see hot tub time machine). I kept nodding off in the back seat the entire ride home, came home, yelled at my mom for trying to be funny and me telling her I was going to throw something at her if she thought she was gonna come in my room and annoy me any more than she already had done when I walked in the door.

And then there's today. We finally got some people to come cut down the neighbor's tree on our house/property. Did I mention the neighbors ran out of their house once and told this one guy we had come over to look at the tree that we weren't home and to not talk to us about prices for cutting it down, ALL just cause he was too cheap to have to pay anything? talk about scum bag. My mom told this guy working on the tree not to talk to anyone but her or me about this tree.

Between this tree nonsense (they've been here since 6am cutting this fucker to pieces and I am losing my mind) and my mother just really being on my nerves the past 2 days (I really don't think she pays attention to a word I ever say cause she spends an entire day asking me the same thing over and over until I flip a shit at her to shut up and that my answer is not going to change after the first 20 times of it being the same question), not to mention I apparently need to get my Cobra out of the garage by tomorrow and haven't heard shit about when that car is gonna be moved away from the entrance so I can get mine out... I'm gonna lose my mind or have a conniption or something.

And, if there's parts of this that don't make sense, it's probably cause I'm losing my mind from stress and the fact chainsaws and wood chippers are just going off all day, leading me to be distracted.

Mr. Toad's Wild Ride

So, yesterday's nothing turned into me going to the Palisades, eventually going to Buffalo Wild Wings in there and following that up with tanking down 2 22oz Cherry Wheats with a veggie burger that had Blazin' Sauce slopped all over it (and later lead to some hilarious gas issues that resulted in Mary yelling at me to stop farting near her later in the night). I bought some asshole looking sun glasses from one of those kiosks that is run by a pushy Asian lady and her silent oger that just stood there looming with boxes in hand filled with sun glasses to hand to her at a seconds notice. Then, in the corner of my eye I saw this bad ass Spider-Man shirt on sale hanging up in one of those stupid shirt and sneaker corner stores with the name "journey" or "journies" in the name. Didn't have the shirt in my size but I found an equally badass and uber nerd Wolverine shirt. Then, I discovered a cooler Wolverine shirt and kicked myself for not getting it, til I noticed it had a phrase worded wrong and my super inner nerd told me it couldn't live with me if I got that shirt.

This was followed by sitting in traffic for God knows how long cause of car after car broken down on the highway. Eventually made it to Loki's to head out to the studio to pack up all the gear to bring to the show they were playing last night. Loki tried buying a large van to move the equiptment with, but instead, found all the place had left was a box truck... a very broken down and ghetto box truck. I rolled up to Loki's as he was walking out the door. I just looked at him, looked at the truck, and said "are you kidding me?" The thing looked something like this:



...only there were no break pads, the shocks were so bad it was like the Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang ride and Loki's brother was saying this and that were cracked on the engine. Like I said to Loki as we were going down the highway in that thing "this thing stinks of safety" (I also was saying that because the fumes coming out of it were noxious beyond belief).

Load in wasn't too bad. Me and Loki showed up in the truck, Bob and JV followed (more like got lost along the way, I think) and Brian and Eric were already there waiting for us.

Showed up to the place they were playing at. It was attached to this... I was gonna say strip club, but the only stripping done, which was done by a um, shall we say "thick" girl, lead to her still wearing clothes under the already barely there clothes she had on. I don't even wanna go into how their cold, clamy skin, how one of them had bruises all over and I kept asking if the thick girl had a tattoo on her ass or if someone decked her in the ass cheek.

Did I mention Bob and I were broke beyond belief? I had enough to buy he and I a beer each and 2 singles left over to tip two of the strippers. Those fucking clothed vultures could smell a dollar from a mile away. Bob was saying "no tits, no tip" should be the motto while there. First girl came up to me, no tits, and I just look at her blankly, drinking my beer, and eventually say "what?" She just sat there, started stroking her hair, and then kinda turns. I, still with the blank look on my face, playing dumb, once again ask, "what do you want?" to her. Then she did that ass presenting thing all the girls did there and turned around expecting a dollar. I looked at Bob and go "ugh, I guess I have to give her a dollar," and as she went to open her shirt up for me to put it in there I kinda just tossed it at her so she'd leave me alone. Another one eventually came by and did the same thing and I threw it in her shirt, and felt some cold clammy boobage. (which brings me to how Mary brought attention to the fact they should be working up a sweat, not some cold, drug addict, sweat... but then again, they are strippers and I'm sure they're on some kinda meth amphetamines at all times). Oh, and the little behind shake I'm referring to that they did? It was something similar to what Pablo Francisco does when telling a strip club story:



Eventually, the last 2 bucks I had on me where gone (yea, THAT took long) and me and Bob would just look away, stare at the tv, or, more often than not, look at our cell phones. Eventually, one just wouldn't go away, so Bob told her that he was waiting for change. She then goes to me and sarcastically said "lemme guess, you're waiting for change too?" I lighty heartedly smiked back at her and go "yep!" I figured we were gonna stay thre a bit longer, so I decided to take out money from the ATM in there til I realized that there's a 10 dollar surcharge for using their ATM. Talk about rip off... that and I didn't have much money in my checking account so I was like screw this. The reaminder of the time in there, me, Bob, Brian, and Eric just stood back away from the bar as to keep away from the grubby gals there finished our beers, mocked strippers, and eventually left back for the bar in the part where they were playing later in the night.

It was like lost in translation trying to talk to that bartender (I have never seen that stupid movie, but I imagine it had to do with trying to talk to someone of the opposite sex that couldn't understand you too well, so that is why I'm saying it was like that). "Double" Vodka Sodas were flowing like nobodies business til I realized that they were 12 bucks for 2 shots in a cup the size of um... I guess it would be in relation to a snapple bottle, but only to the top label of the label on it. Yea, nothing to gloat about. This was even after I went up to her, well, as far up as one could get to a bartender behind the bar, and said "are you serious with these cups, do you have anything bigger?" With the previous cups I was being served drinks in, I felt like i was being served juice at a child's pizza party. After I found out my bill was already 31 bucks from 2 "doubles" and a regular drink, I switched to the 3 dollar drafts which were in medium sized party cups. I drank miller lights and complained that it was piss water all night. That and I kept obnoxiously yelling "AMERICAN!" every now and then in my worst Hank Hill impression as I drank it.

Apparently, all but 3 bands backed off the billing, so the Doomsday Prophecy set was bumped up to 2nd out of 3 sets. Load in (and eventually load back out) was fucking swift and just with now 10 or so guys running back and forth with all the equiptment.

As usual, DP tore the place apart. Some dude was smoking a blunt while they were playing and started passing it around shortly after Ed launched me into the guy and I, not only knocked beer out of a few people's hands, but nailed Mr. Blunt dude into the wall. One dude was so blitzed he kept hanging from this lights rafter and swinging around like a damn ape as they played.

We hung around for a while after their set. I must mention, that the singer of the last band that played looked like if you took Luigi from Super Mario Bros, and let him grow his hair out and put an anti-drug shirt on him. But yea, drinks kept going on for a while. I was shocked as shit when I asked to close out my tab and the bartender smiled at me and handed me back my tab and it was only 39 dollars instead of close to 60 like it shoulda been. I must've had the glistening smile of a child when that happened... then, to add to the joy I was feeling, Loki gave me one of the drink tickets the promoter gave him for the band to have free drinks.

Then... the crazy happened. everyone left except Bob, Brian, Eric and Matt Johnson, who had gone BACK to the "Gentleman's Club". They all came back to the car around the time I texted Bob letting him know, I was standing next to his car like a jackass for a ride home since everyone with a car but him had already left. This is when the second crazy ride of the night happened. First off, Bob pulls out of the parking lot, blows the first red light, then another, and was gonna blow a third til Brian started yelling to stop cause it was a red light. WE got on the highway, Matt Johnson following us, and all I remember was screaming that we were gonna hit cars, we were gonna loose Matt Johnson (which Bob freaked out and started yelling "MATT JOHNSON IS FOLLOWING US! WE HAVE TO LOOSE HIM!" as if he was a cop or something, and we were blasting Johnny Thunders and changing the lyrics to be about Rags-related nonsense. Much laughter was had... and followed by screams of fear here and there.

We eventually made it to the studio to load the equiptment back in and then went into the alley behind the studio to hang out and um... have a pow-wow I guess.

Eventually, Bob said to get my ass in gear cause me and him were gonna go back to Loki's since he was tired. This resulted in part 1 of a 2 part crazy ride #3. We first had to drop Brian off at his house, so that resulted in craziness in Westwood. For some reason, Bob decided to listen to his GPS instead of Brian, who lived in that town his whole life (and to a VERY lesser extent, I who lived there for a short stint) and went down quite possibly the worst road to go down in that town. The road that, as Brian put it, "hasn't been paved since 1941!" it was the bumpiest, ride in the world and I couldn't stop laughing as Brian was going off about how we should have never taken that turn and kept telling Bob to get off to a side road ASAP.

Shortly after, we made it to Brians, dropped him off, and then on the way back took a turn on Garden State SOUTH by accident. This turned into a two man opperation of me being look out as he drove in reverse off the onramp to the highway. I pointed out the Don Johnson house to Bob, we laughed, and then he started listening to his GPS again and it took us off in this Ho Chi Minh Trail around back to the main roads near Loki's. When we got there, we realized JV and Sam weren't back yet, so I said I was calling it a night and drove home. Of course they pulled up as I was leaving, but I said fuck it and just kept on heading home.

Came home, drunkenly tried on the Wolverine shirt I had bought, and the Gotham Rd hoodie that had been sitting around Loki's for a week ever since JV had made for me, and then I eventually passed out on my bed.

Obligatory St Patrick's Day Events Retelling

Since you all seem to want to know what I did yesterday (ok, no one really cares but I'm narcissistic so if you're stupid enough to sit here and read this, then by all means, be my guest and read on).

first of all, I don't know how I am awake right now. I had another black out sleep where I woke up not knowing where I was, and when I realized I was in my room, reached for my cup of water I usually leave next to my bed for days after benders such as yesterday's only to find this giant water liter and a half bottle which was literally a foot long by 3 inches or so. Maybe after this, I'll crank one out, take a nap, get some taco bell and call it a fucking day.

So yea, yesterday...

Started out with me waking up 4 hours later than I was supposed to. I had to wake up at like 6:45am and didn't wake up til almost 11am. Go me! Why couldn't i wake up? It may have had something to do with me and Scott getting taco bell and drinking gin mixed with this sparking cider his mom got him that looks like it was from the middle ages. It was so old and around 3 or 4am, we realized there was this sediment looking shit in our glasses (and probably destroying our insides as I type this) followed by drunken work out ethics which I think resulted in me taking swings at Scott (or wait, I think that was yesterday that I took swings at him... whatever).

So yea, Scott went to go pick up his car from the mechanic and then picked me up to go out.

We drove to this side street off McLean Ave, ironically called Scott St to park his car and walk to the train... which is like a mile away from where we parked. Whatever. It was an exercise. We transferred from to the 4 train? was it the 4? Yea, I think that's the one that took us to Union Square. It was a fucking square full of drunk ugly idiots yesterday, but whatever. We kept seeing this creepy old dude in a suit reading the paper. we kept trying to get his attention to fuck with him. I kept telling scott one of us should go up to him and just start rubbing him and wait to see how long it would take for him to start getting completely freaked out. Scott then tried making flirty winks at him to see if he'd freak out since the last time we saw him, he was on another platform when we transferred trains. but yea, whatever. That never happened and we just went back on our merry way to get sauced beyond recognition.

We met up Romil, Andrew, Anthony and Timmy D at Lillies. By the time we got in there everyone was shocked at how drunk Scott and I already were (yea, Scott made mixed drinks for me and him to drink on the train ride down and I basically killed mine in a matter of a few minutes and then chugged about the remaining fourth that was left of Scott's when we were outside the bar.

Scott, Romil and Timmy D eventually went to scout out other bars. They said they were gonna go to Union Bar but next thing I know I am sitting down with Scott outside at the tables on the side of Side Bar. Apparently Scott expected me to go get drinks when I showed up, but instead of walking through the front, I hopped the fence to the outdoor seating (now that I think of it, their security was pretty lack luster if I was able to leap a small fence with out anyone noticing... then again, it was a busy day). We had a beer each as me, Scott, Romil and Dennis, who had just recently showed up to Lillie's looking for us, set out to decide what we all wanted to do as we took shots of Jameson and whined about this and that. We stopped at a bar to use the bathroom as Scott and Romil did a jager bomb and a car bomb each waiting. We then went to Union bar which was in a sad state of affairs. Seriously, it was a real life version of what Moe's bar patrons in the Simpsons would look like.

We decided to go back to Lillie's where even more people met up. At some point, I went outside to have a smoke, ran into heather and her friend and I think I might've grabbed Heather's friend's ass now that I think of it... I know I was a jackass to her for some reason and I went off on some other girl who kinda shoved me out of her way. But, I don't think that was grounds for being not allowed back into the bar for the rest of the night (yes, I was kicked out around this time) and I saw Jose and 2 of his friends outside Lillie's trying to get into the way too over crowded bar.

Around this time, Jeff was with us too. Jeff, Scott and Romil hopped in one cab and me and Jose hopped in another cab to go to a bar Jeff knew the bartender at over on 45th street called Eamonn's. Weird name, right? But, whatever, it wasn't a bad deal at all. Jeff's friend gave us free drinks while we were there. For some reason, at one point in the night there, I convinced some kid I was jewish and kept making all these jewish jokes (I guess as to not offend him by having him think I was making fun of my own background as well? I don't remember). I remember something else happening between us and some girls in the bar that was just us verbally abusing them. Was it just me doing that? I can't remember. Maybe Scott too cause doing that kinda stuff is more our bag than it is for Jeff, Romil and Jose. Eventually, Romil left back for Lillie's to hang out with everyone else as Me, Jeff, Scott and Jose went even farther uptown to Tin Lizzie on 2nd and 85th cause apparently this kid Andrew we went to high school with and/or his brother own the bar. He said hello to us and gave us a round of shots on the house. This went on til I am pretty sure this bartender cut me off. I say this cause he would blatantly ignore me as I sat there waving money at him like a fucking asshole expecting him to get me my fucking gin and tonics. I had to make Jose and Jeff get me drinks cause Scott was too preoccupied with some girl throwing herself at him which, in turn, lead to me literally shoving him into her. I am pretty sure he wasn't too thrilled. And you may be asking why I started doing that? Well, the answer is fucking obvious. It was because I am a miserable and deranged fuck. I still think it was hilarious when I started "accidentally" falling into people so they would bump into them. That and when I would just push scott into girls walking past us. He on the other hand, was less than thrilled to say the least... and probably is gonna be pissed when he reads this and remembers now. Oh well, what can you do?

A little after this part in the night, when the girl stopped coming back every other minute to talk to Scott, some other girl was coming up the stairs from the bathroom and bumped into Scott or something. I wish I knew what he did or said cause she was LIVID! He then started saying some more shit to her that ended up in her taking a swing at him as 3 guys were holding her back. She was screaming obscenities as he just stood there with this smug look on his face, pointing at his cheek going "come on, you know you wanna. Try it." This didn't go on for too long cause two bouncers came over and asked me who started this scuffle. I just shrugged my shoulders and said "that bitch is fucking crazy and is trying to hit my friend for some reason." This was followed by the two bouncers dragging Scott out the side door of the place. I went outside to look for him and he was just leaning up against a street sign with this look of confusion.

We walked down the street to get some Two Boots pizza and that's when I realized that he forgot all about getting booted from the bar when I asked him what exactly he said or did to end up getting him kicked out. His response to me was, "I never got kicked out of the bar, what are you talking about?" and he was fucking serious. he didn't remember that whole ordeal, and this was like maybe 15 to 20 minutes after it happened. Haaa.

After the two of us were done with my slices that I bought for us, left in a cab down to Union Square again to meet whoever else was still around at Lillie's, totally forgetting that I wasn't even allowed back in (I guess we both had amnesia of getting kicked out of bars last night, now that i think of it). I called Romil and he said everyone went home or to another bar. So, instead, we went to one of the deli's on Park Ave in Union Square. I wonder what the fuck the owner is thinking today after seeing the surveillance tapes of us last night in there. This is the second time Scott and I went into a place like that and I was standing on the other side of the place, just screaming my conversation back and forth with Scott as the owner watches us stumbling all over the place, knocking things over, and slurring our words horribly. Funniest thing was, I think Scott's way to make it back to me for buying him pizza and paying for the cab was him over flowing a container with what ended up being 20 bucks and change of zucchini, plantains and sweet potatoes (it was as mushy and disgusting looking as it sounds). Ironically, I too bought him a water, that giant bottle of water that I awoke to placed on my night table this very morning. Neither of us wanted what the other had bought them and this turned into us arguing the entire walk to the subway, excuse me, on the walk to the park where Scott pissed in the middle of it as 2 cops were on the other side of the wall unaware to his doings transpiring. Although, there was a couple alone, together, on a bench in the park, obviously being romantic. That was, until Scott dropped trow and, while continuing to not back down from our argument, began pissing like a fucking race horse. Once the stream of piss was obvious, the two of them, got up, disgusted and stormed off as I laughed at them and congratulated Scott on ruining a date with his pissing.

The train ride was an experience and a half. Started with Scott wanting to transfer early and us sitting in the station, waiting forever, for a train that was never coming. Some guy told me to ease off of Scott cause I was going off about how he should stop trying to plan train shit with me since I am the one who takes the subways a hell of a lot more than him. We got on the train and maybe a stop or two in, this one guy comes on, sounding like that idiot in the jail scene of Mo' Money. (and yes, I found a video of the scene on youtube if you're a stupid moron who is too dumb to not realize that Mo' Money is a fucking hilarious movie):



ANYWAY, this guy kept saying shit like "I never went to Rikers, But I go if I have to!" and all this other stupid shit. I on the other hand kept quoting shit from Mo Money after Scott yelled "SHUT UP, MO MONEY!" numerous times during this guy's rants. Mainly the jail scene and shit from Reverend Pimp Daddy (as shown below):



Yea, at one point, this woman with her child was kinda speaking indirectly to us to calm down, This was maybe around the time when I was telling Scott that I didn't have my switch blade on me and that if he was gonna keep yelling at this guy, I'm not gonna jump into the brawl... unless he's getting his ass handed to him like it was an unwanted report card.

Eventually, the guy got off the train and so did the woman (who I question why she had her 5 year old son with her at like 3 in the morning on a subway train full of drunks, addicts and vagrants). A few stops later, Scott and I transferred to a 5 train to take it back up to Yonkers. That ride consisted mainly of he and I continuing into what was about an hour of us arguing with each other like an old married couple, only taking breaks for me to keep telling Scott to touch the fat black dude's gut as he snored like a mother fucker on the train and some couple sitting across and to the right stared at us in shock and awe.

Sooner or later, we got back to Yonkers and had a good mile ahead of us back to Scott's car that consisted of me just complaining that he should go get the car and then turn around to pick up my dying body that was sure to be found in the gutter by the end of the night. Instead, he just said to hot step it, asked me to see his bag of veggies he gave me, and then threw it off the bridge onto the train tracks cause he knew neither of us were gonna eat the rest of that slop. This was followed by pissing between two pickup trucks in a bar's parking lot on McLean and then us hopping in Scott's car shortly after.

The ride home consisted of me laying there, eyes closed, repeatedly demanding Scott put Poker Face on as he kept replying to shut up and then just looping Telephone almost the entire ride home.

I don't recall how I got in the house. I do recall struggling to get my pants off and just repeatedly kicking in the air like a child, as I was laying down, to try and get them off. I found them in a ball in the corner of my room this morning when I was looking for them.

and yea, that was my night. Aren't you glad you wasted your time reading this go nowhere nonsense which is also known as my life?

Oh, and by the way, you should go to the Crack-A-Thon hosted by Gwar at the MF Gallery in Brooklyn. I'm supposed to go to the kick off party and then I just reserved my seat for one of the shows Friday night. Good times, and I'm probably the only person, besides Jared who I am going with, that still likes Gwar.

Ramy Vs. The Creepy Tree

So, for years my family has been asking the neighbors to cut down this rotted out, really large tree that's been looming over our house since we moved here. Tonight, thanks to this horrendous storm, it fell... on my house. How more of it fell on the grass than the house is beyond me, but I know I should be dead.

My mother is on the phone with insurance and neighbors ran over to see if we're ok. Fuck that stupid tree. It was so rotted out, these cheap fucks would fill the rotted out holes with concrete. They say they wanted to keep it up because "it's so beautiful". The damn thing looks like it's out of a Tim Burton movie and now it's in my backyard. The window in my mother's room is smashed, the gutters are torn down in one spot and I'm fairly sure there's a giant hole in my roof now, but I can't tell cause I'm too big to fit in the crawl space to get to that part of the attic and between all this rain and the fact that it's too dark, I can't tell right now with my flashlight when I went outside to check on things.

If a tree falls in the woods, does anyone hear it? I fucking heard this shit. Loudest bang I've ever heard in my life... and way is the heat on so high now?

when I initially went back there to see what happened, there was squirrels running amuck for shelter and then I saw the fence was knocked down... and then I saw the tree was across the backyard

Whatever. I'd take pictures, but, like I said, you can't see shit. I'll take pictures tomorrow. Can't take off from work cause the boss' son is in critical condition in the hospital after he totaled his car Thursday night and I gotta run shit. Ugh.

Wanna laugh even more, the neighbors who the tree belongs to won't even call the insurance company, my mother had to call and they said the wait is 72 hours (that's 3 days). Fucking JOY!

I have, quite possibly, the most miserable life. Either someone put a curse on me or I am suffering for horrible things done in a previous life (or maybe even this life for that matter). I've been having a lot of close calls recently. How long til something finally takes me out, for good. Maybe I should just beat fate to the punch and do them the favor. Ugh. Fuck my life.

... and now it seems I won't have a cell phone. It just died mi-sentance when TJ called to make sure I was ok and see if I needed help. Fucking hell!

Whatever, I'm gonna try and see how far I can get in the crawl space in the attic before I am stuck and there's another thing for me to hate my life about as I curse at the skies.

Memories Of Last Night Are Spotted At Best

So, after work I went home to walk into the bathroom and discover a layer of ice had formed in the toilet. I took quick and swift care of that with my dick (I pissed all over that fucker til it melted). Packed up some shit into a duffle bag (I seriously need to look into a new duffle bag, maybe that's how I'll spend my day at work today, looking for a new one). Where the hell was I going with this? Oh yea, duffle bag packed, threw some clothes on, hopped in my mom's car and she dropped me off at TJ's... which, as we were driving down the street, noticed lights coming on in the houses on my block. (I later found out the lights are the ONLY thing to come back on. Dunno if heat is back yet, but phones, cable and internet are SHIT from what I'm told).

Whatever, went to Tj's sat around drinking a few beers, telling Evan the girl he's gonna meet up smells like farts while he played Super Mario, watched TJ eat coconut shrimp his sister made for him, and eventually went on our merry way to the Bogota VFW that the Doomsday Prophecy was playing at.

We rolled up and hung out outside with a few of the guys and eventually helped them in so TJ could sneak in without having to pay (I on the other hand, drunkenly harassed JV to give me a ticket when we were all hanging out at Loki's for the superbowl a few weeks back). But yea, upon enterting, it was your standard VFW crowd. You know, kids you know should not be walking around with red cups full of beer from the bar in there, kids wearing shit like basketball shorts and a band shirt that flat out says "FUCK YOU" across the back. Lots of gyrations that are called "dancing" these days. Lots of bands with their chugga-chugga and their woo woo's! I dunno. If you've ever been to a VFW show lately, you know what I mean. The bands were good, but you know...

Before I go on, I must say the bar in that VFW was the bar that time forgot. It was like stepping into a portal to the Vietnam War, or possibly right after it. The place had this heinous wallpaper straight out of the late 60s/early 70s. Parts of it looked like it was an old Vietnamese hut, there was tinsel everywhere, and I swear to God there was dust on some of the bottles in that joint. I also swear the girl bartending was giving me water and telling me it was gin. She kept staring at me, but I wasn't gonna hit on her cause she had this look to her that just let you know she was a bitchy pain in the fucking ass when she's not working.

Two things happend during the DP set (dude, their initials are DP... being billed as double penetration would be a hilarious name for a secret show). But yea, things... First blood was drawn. Some kid nailed into Lindsay during one of the first songs, causing her to spill beer all over the floor. This lead to the plot of this kid's nose getting smashed the fuck open when he slipped on it and blood gushed this way and that.

This guy running the show came out mopping up the blood and TJ came up with the genius idea to start mock-mopping and pretending he's making up new dance moves to perform while the guys were playing.

Um... oh yea, and this kid who wants to fight JV showed up cause apparently Bogota is "his turf" or some shit? I dunno, all I know is he has "beef" with JV over some seriosuly petty shit that JV doesn't give two shits about. His posse was 3 girl. One more troll of women than the next. They all just stood near the area JV was playing bass near, staring at him with disgruntled faces apparently. From what I'm told, the one that's this kid's sister spit at JV and Eric's dad saw this and grabbed her and was like "what the FUCK are you doing?" and was asking "why in the hell would you spit at someone?" JV at one point between songs, called the kid out and was like "there's these people standing over here, staring at me, trying to fight me or something and I'm pretty sure most of the people in this room would love to jump in on a fight if one broke out with you." The kid and the 3 girls walked off and then came back again doing the same lame "i'm tough, I'm gonna beat you up" fucking BULLSHIT. This time, the kid started walking towards where JV was playing and Ed just told the kid to fuck off. The kid started walking closer and Ed smacked the beer right out of the kids hand and told him to fuck off again, followed by Eric's dad basically grabbing this kid by the neck and dragging him out of the VFW.

The girls stuck around and just sat there staring while Ed and Eric's dad just stood there in front of them staring back telling em to get the fuck out if they weren't there to see the show. Seriously, these mongoloids paid 12 bucks each to be fucking grade A morons who aren't intimidating at all (one of them looked like her hobbies included combing the tails of her My Little Ponies), to then only realize that they are also out sized, out classed and out numbered.

Load out included the sister walking over and just straight up standing there and staring at JV as he waited for Brian to roll the van around to load the shit into followed by Ed going "OH SHIT! SHE WANTS TO EAT YOU!" and "Does he look like a big mac to you? stop staring at him."

This nonsense continued more when we went to the bar down the block after everything was said and done. How so? Captian I'm gonna show up to a concert and stand there like a jackass was at the bar. Apparently Lindsay and Jojo were just fed up with these kids so they went up to him and go "there he is, right there. There's JV. Go beat him up." the kid was like "nah... you're lying. that's not him." (Yea, it was some other dude with long hair, a goatee, tattoos and a danzig hoodie on). I assume the kid left through the backdoor cause I don't think he walked past the lot of us hanging out near the end of the bar closest to the front of the place (There was about 15 to 20 of us, ontop of the dudes that came over to drink with us that I had no clue who they were, getting drunk and rowdy in that joint now that I think of it... sweet lord).

A lot of the night included dancing like a jackass. People yelling for me to watch out before I got nailed in the head with a dart from people playing darts and um... I dunno, more drunken jackassery.

The last thing I remember before waking up in TJ's driveway was me dragging Deirdre over to this guy I kept calling Mr Tomasides (cause he looked like my middle school's old band teacher who inturn, looked like a fucking retard and a half). So yea, dragged Deirdre against her will towards this guy and made her pretend to hit on him for my own amusement, yes I'm a horrible person who wanted a quick laugh at making deirdre hit on some guy against her will and watching as him perk up with excitement thinking an attractive woman was actually interested in him. Then I dragged her to this big black girl I kept calling Kool-Aid cause she was wearing this big purple shirt which kept causing me to yell over and over again "WATER! SUGAR! PURPLE! THAT'S KOOL-AID!" She was gonna ask if she was one of Oprah's friends or something. I dunno, Deirdre kept rambling on about how she looked like someone on the Oprah show or her friend or her I don't know the fuck what. Regardless, that was short lived and resulted in both of us heading back to our seats at the bar.

We eventually left, and all else I remeber was I kept repeating the repetative part of Mistadobalina by Del the Funky Homosapien.

Oh, and waking up, getting dressed, and then heading to this shit hole to waste time typing this shit up.

Oh, and Germs moved to Texas for a little bit? I was informed? I think me being informed about the party was "why did you never get back to me." - Me "There was a big party at Brian's." - Loki "oh, ok." - Me. If that constitues for being invited to Germs' going away party then... I dunno what. I'm gonna have to find out his address and mail him out obscure and retarded things like pictures of me with a bottle of gin playing Call of Duty and CD-Rs of nothing but me going "Meow, what are you doing?"

Fuck This Weather

So, I got a ride to work when I probably didn't have to show up today. Why am I here? A) I get paid to fuck around and do dick all day here. B) I HAVE NO FUCKING POWER IN MY HOUSE. It is like an ice box.

Thank the beyond shitty weather for all of this.

Thursday, around 10am, I was driving home from Harlem. Well, first of all, I drove into Harlem around 7am and it was already starting to snow. 10am's drive home included people driving like retards, assholes and utter morons. I got home and started shoveling. AS soon as I was done shoveling, I turned around to see that the entire walkway and driveway wre covered as if I didn't shovel a damn thing. I cursed at the sky, threw my shovel at the wall in the front of my house and stormed inside muttering angry rants to myself.

Made myself some soup and passed the fuck out. Woke up to texts and an alarm for something I was watching on ebay. fell asleep. Woke up around 3, made more soup, fell back asleep... As you can see, I made the most out of my Thursday.

At around 9 or so, Scott was saying for me to walk down to his house. I think around 10 or so at night I finally got my ass out of bed, opened the door and took a step into the snow. That's when I realized there's more stairs to my front door than I saw , and I was about knee deep in snow. Cursed that I got snow in my shoe, grabbed the shovel that I had thrown at the wall earlier and started to dig my ass out. I got to the driveway when I realize the neighbor's house had a tree down in their yard and driveway. I also had the pleasure of said neighbor pulling up to their house from work to discover this. He drove by once, stopped, stared, drove away, came back, from another angle, stared, and then drove off to the font of his house and parked on the grass (he lives on a corner driveway is on my street, front yard is on the other street).

After hearing trees falling all over and the tree in my front yard cracking and branches starting to come down, I realize I was not gonna walk to his house (seeing an orange glow that I'm sure was a generator on fire and seeing blue flashes in the sky also helped my judgement on not going too). Good thing I didn't go anyway, cause an hour later Scott said his power went out.

Woke up at 8am Friday morning. made breakfast. Shoveled. 4 hours later and 5 hardcore albums on my ipod later, I shoveled an assload of snow out of my driveway and got my mom's car dug out (ok, so I would pause during some sick breakdowns in the songs I was listening to so that I could play the shovel like a guitar and thrash around til the breakdowns were said and done... seriously must've creeped out the neighbors).

Came in for some lunch and Scott texted me saying he was gonna come with a bottle of booze attached to his neck like a St Bernard to get drunk and play Call of Duty with me. I showered, shaved and let Scott in cause we got some sick timing. We played for maybe an hour or so when we heard a loud explosions followed by the power going out. Power came back on a few seconds later, followed by an even louder explosion which was thus followed by the power going out, for good.

From there, we wandered. Scott and I cut through the Cemetary to get to his house. Cutting across fields of nothing but snow was a bad idea. Our ideas on how to get across were worse:



Here, you see Scott's attempt at ROLLING across the cemetary. I laughed at him, but my idea to crawl was even worse. Face first in snow, struggling to get out of this frozen quicksand leading to soggy ground full of the dead. Gross and horrible.

We eventually got out of there alive and walked down to his house for some snacks and to see if Scott had power back. Nope. Started walking and ran into Dash. Ended up fucking around in front of his house, helped him shovel his car out, and laughed some more. Forgot how hilarious the kid is and Scott and I agreed we should see Cop Out cause of such (he plays a hispanic drug dealer that gets his ass beat by Bruce Willis in that movie).

Eventually, we got hungry, left back for Scott's house and got his mom's car. We then went to venture for food and realized Burger King was open. Scott started yelling that he wished the whole town could be cleared out and have power like Burger King.

While in there, we over heard 2 Con Ed employees laughing about people in my town trying to stop them and them just waving back and driving off laughing. I did not care when I whipped my Sick of it All scarf around my neck violently causing it to what I hope resulted in an obnoxious smack to the guy's head/face.

Scott then dropped me off back at my house cause we were gonna meet up Jose and Britany since she was back visiting from Canada again. What resulted was me taking a shower in the dark, yelling about cold water, falling all over the place trying to get dressed with nothing but a flashlight the size of a pencil to shed some lightin the room (seriously, look at this thing):


(Yes, it says budwiser. Me and Tj got these for free at some bar somewhere a few months back).

Oh, and doing my hair up in the dark? fucking classic. For someone who couldn't see shit i did a pretty damn good job doing my hair up all nice-like. Must be my ginzo powers.

Scott got me and we drove around scouting out the roads to make sure we could get to the bar and back, etc, while waiting for Merideth to get her ass in gear for us to go out.

Apparently Jose and Brittany both bailed on us but 2 of Merideth's friends showed up. Ron Black's was closed and that annoyed us cause we ended up going to the Brazen Fox aka sleaze bag city (which is sad since the other bars on that block are even worse. Black Bear is like a scene out of a Jersey Shore episode most of the time).

Whatever. A few gins here, a few shots of jager there, shit was picking up. Highlights of weirdness? I was walking to the bathroom and this drunk girl dancing by herself in the hallway to the bathrooms sees me, stops dancing, jumps in front of the men's bathroom door and goes "you wanna go to the bathroom, don't you?" I replied with something along the lines of "either that or I like hanging out in empty hallways that lead to bathrooms." She told me we had to have a danceoff to see if I could get in or not. I shook my ass a few times and did some Michael Jackson-esq kick and she was like "ok, fine." as I opened the door, this guy washing his hands turn his head and see what I guess was his girlfriend dancing behind me following me into the bathroom. He was like "What the HELL!" and started yelling about dancing with his girlfriend and chased her out of the bathroom. This guy in there beside me and I just looked at each other and I shrugged my shoulders and went off to piss.

Another bathroom incident, even weirder, consisted of me going in there while some dude was washing his hands. this time, he started whistling as I was walking towards urinal. Then, he goes to a urinal near me and starts whistling to get my attention. I forced myself to piss as hard and fast as possible, did minimal shakage, and then bee-lined it out of there.

Another incident included me and a few other people smoking outside fucking with these guys trying to park their car in this spot their car couldn't fit in. And then, for some reason, I got 2 of the guys and 1 girl outside start quoting Danny Devito's lines from Batman Returns. Basically, got them all going "QUACK, GET IN THE DUCK!"

Final random occurance to happen before I went home? This girl starts STARING at me, HARD as she walked outside for a second shortly after the whole "get in the duck" part of the night. I'm like "why is this bitch just grilling me?" Turns out it was this girl, better known as "THE SKUNK" that grew up near me. She's known as the skunk cause all the kids on the school bus would make fun of how she smelled and would try and cover it up with her mom's perfume, causing her to smell WORSE! and leading to gang choruses of the entire bus singing shit like "ol' McDonald had a skunk" and so on and so forth (God, causing childhood mental scars are fun, aren't they?) Anyway, yea, so I realized who it was and smirked and then started laughing, basically in her face as she walked away. I pointed her out to Scott later when she came back in (cause she apparently met up the girls at the booth behind where I was sitting) and we giggled like little girls muttering "skunk!" back and forth to one another in low volumes.

That was pretty much my night cause Scott and/or Merideth wanted to go home early (which I obviously complained about not wanting to go home so early). I got dropped off, stumbled into the dark as fuck kitchen, used my flashlight to find a jar of peanut butter and some bread. I was gonna go for the jelly, but didn't wanna open the fridge since either A) I'd be drunk and leave it open like a jackass causing everything to go bad even faster, and B) I was fucking too lazy. So, I made a nice peanut butter and peanut butter sandwich. Ate it on the stagger to my room, walking into walls and shit. fell a few times getting undressed and then dressed into my sweats and GNR hoodie I found by feeling around my closet like a blind fuck, and then went to sleep cocooned in my faux down blanket (my sister really scored big time finding these vegan friendly faux blankets at some store, they're not rediculously bulky and yet they're warm as fuck!

So, this morning, I woke up, saw the police line at the end of my block was finally down cause someone fixed the downed power lines, the road was clear cause of the plows being able to finally come down my street, and there was a wall of ice and snow at the end of my driveway. Looked at my car (still buried in snow) and told my mom I needed a ride. I hacked and chopped a path for my mom's car, took her car, Floored it in reverse, sending it flying into the and spinning on ice, evned it out, told her to drive since she needed the car, adn then went to work.

The town is like a frozen version of Mad Max. chaos. Streets closed, makeshift stop signs at busy intersections where there's no power to the traffic lights, mounds of snow where cars were parked on the sides of roads, etc.

Fucking ridiculous. I gotta stay at TJ's tonight cause hell if I'm staying in an ice box for a house... and did I mention, when I called Con Ed this morning, you get an automated voice telling you power will not be restored to my area until Tuesday the earliest? Fucking FANTASTIC!

Gone With the Sanity

Well, last night I narrowly escaped death... again.

What happened? About 2 or so hours into us sitting around waiting for a tow truck, Scott put it best. "This is like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure where he wakes up and the fortune for the day says "do not go outside," and he just shrugs it off and goes out anyway. Yea. What happened? Well, let's see. The whole day consisted of me taking full advantage of my day off. In reality, all I did was lay there like an animal you find dying on the side of the road and switching it up between watching horrible television and playing Call of Duty.

Eventually, Scott got back to me about wanting to go out cause he got tired of waiting for a response to his plans. Ian also called and said he wanted to hang out. Among trying to figure a plan out with Scott, we came up with "THE WHEEL OF ALCOHOLISM!" Basially it's a like the wheel from the wheel of fortune, but instead of money, it's gonna be bars we always go to. It's gonna be for those nights, like last night, where we can't decide where to go. We ended up deciding to go to the Stumble Inn cause we never been in there since they changed Moe's Carribian into that place and wanted to check it out (also since we haven't been in that neck of the woods in a whiles). But yea, NONE of our plans went into action last night. We got to Ian's, picked him up, hopped on the West Side highway and I passed the exit for 79th street. Scott pointed it out to me, and I said to shut up. I turned around at 56th street and got back on the Westside highway. As I'm coming up to pass the onramp right before the offramp for 79th street, I notice this car is NOT stopping at the stop sign before getting on the highway. No, he did not have any sense of caring that a car going 60+ miles per hour (knowing me, probably closer to mid to high 70s) was barreling down at him. I slammed on the breaks and started honking as my ABS kicked in. Well, it had to work over time cause while skidding to avoid hitting the guy who cut me off, I hit a patch of black ice and KEPT skidding even farther. To add insult to what I thought was inevitable injury was that this MORON started slowing down, meaning I was still flying into him and instead of speeding up like he should have done in the first place if he was gonna jump out in front of me, he slowed down to make it more probable that I'd hit him.

Eventually, I got around this guy and veered off onto the off ramp for 79th street. As I hit the breaks to slow down around the bend, I realized a lack of break pressure and that we were NOT slowing down AT ALL. I calmly say to Scott and Ian, "I have no breaks... I. Have. NO. Breaks. Dude... the breaks aren't working." Scott and Ian kinda look at each othere not thinking it was too serious until I slammed on the parking break and it was not slowing us down in time to not go through the stop sign into traffic. Even worse, the after barreling through that stop sign with Scott, Ian and I now freaking out bad, we realized we were propper fucked when we had to blow through a light where a busy Riverside drive was the cross street, us 3 embracing for impact into a car from one of the 3 directions ahead of us. We ended up going up the hill on 79th street and I pulled the car over after some car almost hit us, honking wildly at us, and threw the car into park as we slowed down going up the hill. The 3 of us just looked at each other, said, "what the fuck?" and then tried to figure out what the hell had happened and how we did not get hit by one oncoming car that entire run the highway to the part of the hill that stopped us (mind you, Manhattan is almost COMPELTELY flat land and the odds of there being a hill are slim to none. I can only imagine how bad of an accident we'd have gotten into had it been a flat straight away after getting off the highway.

Ok, so this is 11pm that this all happened. We all got out of the car and decided to pop the hood to see if there was any break fluid since there was no pressure on the break. There was NONE. I made Scott ask the doorman at the building we were parked in front of if he knew where to get break fluid as I had Ian looking up places on his cell phone to call and see if they had any either. After Scott wandering the local streets and Ian failing at finding a place near by, the two of them hopped a cab to some mechanic up in the high 90s on broadway. Apparently they dealt with the worst salesman ever. They asked the guy for 2 bottles of break fluid just to make sure in case there was a leak we'd have a spare bottle to have. The guy goes "nah... I think you just need one." The two of them replied back with something like "we'd feel safer with two. Just give us two bottles, ok?"

They showed up back at the car, I popped the hood, we poured an entire bottle of break fluid into the car. Noticed it was going down a little. Then, we crawled under the car to see a gyser of break fluid streaming like water from a faucet out of the break line. Around this time, I threw my arms in the air and started yelling anger.

I called my mom for the second time. The first time, I tried explaining to her the whole situation to let her know I may need the roadside assistance info. What that turned into was me yelling at her for not listening to me and hanging the phone up on her (yes ladies, and I'm single too). She called the roadside assistance for me, and then called me back complaining how she can't stand dealing with outsourced companies with people who can barely speak English. What happened next? I get a phone call from the roadside company with the same lady saying she got a call saying that I needed a tow. I swear to God, I wanted to murder this woman for not understanding a word I was saying. I'd talk slow, I'd talk loud... I would be punching the roof of my car followed by thrashing in agony at how ridiculous it was that this woman could not get simple instructions down right. I kept telling her I wanted the car towed to this town outside of manhattan in Westchester County. She thought the town's name was the name of the street and I would go "no, it's in New York, the state." She goes "new york city?" Shit like that, over and over as Ian and Scot laughed at me flipping the fuck out.

What happened next was the most mind numbing waiting game ever. Basically the woman with the horrible accent said the tow truck would be there by 2am. From 12 to Well after 3 when the guy finally rolled up was the 3 of us sitting in the car losing our minds. Eventually, we all lost it and were just laughing at the stupidest things. We had all finally snapped. I wish I recorded some of our antics and nonsense conversations, but whatever.

When the guy showed up, Ian hopped in a cab back to his apartment, and Scott and I had the pleasure of riding with this guy, couldn't be that much older than us, blasting whatever was on the radio, as we shook violently whenever the damn thing would go faster than 50 miles per hour (the dude obviously had a fucked tire or a bent axle and would just ignore it as Scott and I felt like our brains were being violently shooken from our skulls). The best part of the guy taking the car back off the flatbed he had? He forgot there was no breaks and almost plowed into some car he tried parking my car behind. I got out of the truck after filling out all this info for him, and see the car is in the middle of the road, sideways. He goes "oops. Forgot about the breaks til the last minute, had to swerve the car.

The fucking towing fee was over 200 bucks, fuck me.

Ontop of that, Scott and I started walking through two til my mom got the two of us. I didn't get home til around 4:30am and usually when that happens, it means it was a long night out drinking. Not last night obviously.

INTERMISSION
(Feel free to grab some snacks and drinks)

Thursday night. Oh Thursday night. Scott and I were bored, but didn't know what to do. It turned into deciding to go to Down the Hatch. Reasoning? We wanted to see if the girl with giant cans was working. If not, at least there'd be some loose NYU girls probably slutting it up in there. Scott called Mike Dani, Jose and then texted TJ since him and Dennis were in the city already. Mike and Jose declined. and TJ and Dennis said they'd meet us up later.

We showed up and realized all drinks were 3 dollars all night. Looked at each other and Scott said "guess we're not gonna have to worry about spending too much money anyway." LIE! WE both blew about 60 to 80 bucks each (fucking shot after shot is what got us). Highlights. Two of us are sitting at the bar, drinking and talking. This MESS of a girl just shoves herself right between us and shoves us apart. First she starts talking to Scott. Then to me. I really wish I bashed her even more than I started to. Eh, whatever. While she was talking to Scott, I spit my gum out onto the bar table top. I then placed it on a beer coaster and kept trying to slide it under her arm or hand while Scott kept her distracted by keeping the inane convo going. Eventually, I started taking lemon and lime slices and placing them about her. The bartender saw this and took everything off the table when I left for the bathroom at one point. The best was, I guess around the time I was in the bathroom, one of the bartenders asked Scott if he knew this girl. Scott's reply was a very violent headshaking to imply his answer was a "no". The girl would not go away til I started saying something along the lines of her being a rude disgusting person and between that and Scott's ignoring her, she realized she was not welcome near us.

Oh, lets see what else there was. Two SLUTS at the opposite end of the bar. One kept making eye contact with me. Everytime we'd both go outside for a cigarette, I'd try and stike up a convo with her but someone WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE! First time it was a bum. I started telling him I'm broke and started walking away and he asked me for money. I turn to him, put my hood up on my head, and go "it's fucking cold and I don't have health insurance, so this is what I do to avoid getting sick and paying doctors bills." he goes "... so can I have a dollar?" I go "NO!" Another time, this guy starts going off on Italians and I get heated into the convo. One guy was half Italian and half Chinese. Once I was informed of this, I kept calling him Chi-talian. Around this time, TJ and Dennis showed up too, so I kinda veered off to say what's up to them. TJ had a stuffed dog that he won at this new Carnival bar somewhere near Union Square. We ended up talking to two girls outside the bar before even entering. I don't remember how the convo started but I do recall telling the story about how I made a college review guy think I was half black/hispanic to get into the college and it totally worked somehow.

Later on we went inside and TJ handed off the stuffed dog to me. That is when I put it up on my shoulder like a shoulder wrap and evntually put it atop my head and walked around the bar wearing this stuffed dog like a hat. People kept coming up to me and asking what the hell I had on my head, girls were cheersing me their drinks, etc. Eventually TJ grabbed the dog before going over to a table of girls to talk to them as Scott and I sat there laughing at this woman I kept screaming "BIG BIRD!" at. Sweet anola gay! She had this giant, over permed, over bleached buffont. Way too tight jeans that were going up her anus. Oh, and her face? Imagine taking a beat face, putting saran wrap over it, and then blow drying it to ceal it to ones face. Yea, that kinda ugly.

Eventually, TJ and Dennis headed for home and Mike Dani showed up after he changed his mind about meeting us up. The 3 of us just drank and drank and finally I got to talking to one of the sluts from across the bar. First convo didn't go off as planned and blew up in my face. Second one, I learn she was older than me by 3 years and looked hot as shit and not showing any signs of withering away anytime soon. Of course, as soon as I get in good with her, some douchebag she knows comes out and cock blocks me to no end til I get fed up with being a douche right back to him.

Eventually we left and had the fat feast. Me, Scott and Mike went to Papaya Dog. Scott got what I'm gonna have to start refering to as "the usual feast", then he said he was still hungry, and Mike said he refused to let me go anywhere near my car til I ate a little more to sober up. So, Scott threw me a 20 and told me to go grab a pie from Joe's. Scott waited around the corner while I ordered the pie. Right before I left, I shoved a glass salt shaker onto the floor, causing glass shards and salt to go everywhere. The entire staff looked at me, one started yelling. I grinned like an idiot and ran out, box of pizza in hand laughing like an idiot.

The reason Scott does this now when we get Joe's pizza dates back to about 2 years ago around October/November when John came from New Mexico to visit. We went to Joe's to get pizza. The guy serving us was a total dick to Scott and John. John asked for meatballs on his pizza. Scott asked for a plain. John got a plain slice and Scott got a Mozzerella slice. When they asked what the fuck was up, the guy shrugged his shoulders and was like "no special orders." Scott, in a rage, storms out of Joe's, goes to the curb, grabbed a big wet smelly full garbage bag, walks back to the entrance of the store, opens the door, and then proceeded to launch the garbage bag at the employees. I was not aware of the whole situation or how bad it was until Scott, John, Jose and whoever else was out with us all booked it down the street and I sat there, lighting up a cigarette, clueless, until I heard John go "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING STANDING THERE? RUN!"

So yea, that's about it. The ride home consisted of us 2 stuffing pizza in our mouths as we drove down the FDR and 87 to get back home, blasting Lady Gaga and screaming like assholes the entire ride home.

To sum it up nicely, Merideth questioned one of Scott's post on twitter regarding that night that said: "I've had enough pizza and lady gaga to shake a stick at... "

When questioned about this by her, his response was: "It was a regular maelstrom of dude dancing in the car on the ride home." I think it can go without saying she did not reply back to him up until this afternoon once she recieved THAT text.

So yea, Lord only knows what insanity await tonight for Mr Mike DeLisi's birthday party tonight. We're supposed to go bar hopping all the dive bars up and down St Marks street. Knowing me, I'll end up wandering down to Crif Dogs and/or Nino's Pizza... possibly end up storming Jared and Desiree's apartment the block over like I'm the Spanish Inquisition. Who knows.

Oh, and how can I forget, after a sure to be long painful day at work Sunday morning, I am going to catch H2O for their 15th Anniversary show at the Knitting Factory (which apparently moved out to Brooklyn now) for this 250 only admittance, no barricades, show. Shit is gonna be OFF-THE-FUCKING-WALL!