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.