Once in a while, I come up with some great lies to tell people. Last night's was one of them. How awesome was it? I basically ruined some date going on that consisted of a couple who met on Match.com. Haaaaa!
We were at that fucking hotel in Union Square, um... I forget the name of the hotel, but the bar in it is called "Under Bar" and the hotel is located on the corner of 17th and Park Ave South. Not my cup of tea for drinking there, but we went there cause the bar Dennis wanted to go to had a 10 minute wait and I am not one to wait on lines. I think the funniest part was, Romil gave me his nice gloves and I kept yelling how I am not wearing dead animals on my hands to get into a club, to make a scene. Ontop of that, it was fucking hilarious that Dennis and Romil were so drunk that they thought putting nice gloves on me was gonna negate the fact I was wearing my dirty old jacket, combat pants, and a Samhain hoodie under the jacket. Oh, and I was wearing my dirty-ass Vans (which reminds me, time to buy some new every day sneakers).
ANYWAY, I digressed the fuck out of this story already.
So, we get to Under Bar, i am yelling that I don't wanna be there and just wanna go back to Union Bar (seriously, over crowded hotel bar vs bar with hot bartenders who give us discounted to free drinks? There should be no question as to who wins that fight. It's like tying a child to a pole and pummeling him with blunt objects and calling it fair fight). But yea, Dennis and Romil were not giving in to my arguments (more like whiney bitching) that we should go back to Union Bar and that it was stupid to have left that bar. After the first bout of yells, I tell Dennis to get me a drink. Around this time, one couple sees me and the girl is like "what are you yelling about? How can you yell at your friend like that?" I go him... he's um... my publicist... and a bad one at that!" I then go off on how my imaginary book has been delayed repeatedly, my advertising deals with companies falted, etc etc. Suddenly, the girl seemed more interested in me than her date it seemed. The guy, at one point, tried calling my bluff by asking if I'm a writer, what books have I had published. Quick thinking lead to me saying something like "Oh, well, I have published many short pieces in various publications across Manhattan, but this book is to be my first full-on book." I just know he was saying touché in his head. At one point, I grabbed Dennis to the side, and said "you're my fucking publicist. I have a book coming out. If you talk to them, tell them some cockamaimy story about how this fake book is being postponed over and over again and I'm gonna say it's all your falt and so on and so forth." He's like "I like where this is going, this is a good one. Why haven't we used this yet to pick up women?" I'm like "we're doing it now, you're on. It's publicist mode now for you."
Later on, the girl stepped away from the guy she was with, grabbed me to come closer to her, asked me if I smoked, and then when I said yes, dragged me outside and starts telling me about how she's on a second date with this guy. She can't stand him. How he is beyond lame, and all he has going for him is he dresses well (earlier in the conversation with the couple I said something about how I prefer to dress like a vagabond than dress nice and my "publicist" was complaining about the way I dressed).
After making a scene in the bathroom and running out before staff and hotel guests alike came after me with pitchfork and torch, I ran to Romil who told me we were gonna leave and try to get back into this other bar Dennis wanted to go to. The girl asked me who Romil was. I told her "uh, my lawyer. We need to talk over business so I invited him out." AS I was leaving, and saying goodbye, I told them I was scheduled to make another appearance at a bar down the street.
Getting into THAT bar included Dennis and Romil trying to convince me wearing Romil's gloves is what was going to get me into the bar. Yes, giant padded leather gloves are like the golden ticket to Willy Wonka's Factory. You know what got me in? Me being a wiseass and saying some stupid shit that I was already in the bar and came out for a smoke.
Thinking back, while I was on this roll of rolls, I should have came up with a good name. Scott and I are good at coming up with stupid names (if you haven't been able to tell by the past blogs with fake names we give to girls or for sign up sheets and such at bars, we also like to list fake, funny names when really bored, to remember for later).
Now, if you'll excuse me. I have been feeling nauseous all morning and am waiting for everyone to leave the office so I can puke my brains out in peace. With all this nausea lately, I'm starting to think I'm pregnant. ugh, and I already puked in my mouth once today. It's not gonna be pretty once these people get out of here finally.
Showing posts with label Union Bar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Union Bar. Show all posts
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Eerie Von Book Signing, Alcohol, and Being at Each Other's Throats
Act 1:
So, last night I went to Loki's to meet up him and JV. JV and I sat around, he playing that new Super Mario for Wii as Sam read off walkthroughs for each level, I sitting on the computer wasting my life waiting for Loki to get home from work. We were waiting for Loki cause we were all gonna go down together to the city. Loki opted to fall asleep right after getting home, so JV and I decided to just book it to the city.
Sitting in traffic is never fun. Bridge and Tunnel traffic is even worse and the fact we wanted to get to the place a little before the whole shebang went down was even more annoying. For an hour and a half we sat in traffic waiting to get across the Lincoln Tunnel to get to the damn show. Let me say that again, an hour and a fucking half of sitting in traffic. Once we hit Manhattan we booked it down 9th ave and made it pretty far down before we hit a red light. We found a spot not too far from Generation Records, paid for parking, and walked to the place. We got there and I had to pick up this card that I would then have to hand to someone later to get my copy of the book we were there for the signing of.
We missed most of the set, but got to see them (Eerie Von, Lyle Preslar and Mike D'Antonio) perform To Walk the Night, Killer Wolf and an Elvis song (I can't remember which one off the top of my head right now). JV took a video of them doing To Walk the Night on his video camera thingie which I'm sure he'll put up on youtube once he realizes no one is gona be posting anything online any time soon.
After they were done playing, Eerie was like "ok, lets sign some books!" and me and JV were apparently right next to the front of the line when we were looking at t-shirts. JV ended up buying the death dealer Samhain shirt I picked up a few months back at Generation (it is quite possibly my favorite shirt right now... and that sentance was quite possibly the gayest thing I've said in 2010 so far). Eerie walked up to JV while heading to the table to sign shit and I was like "what is that wonderful smell?" I looked up and saw he was holding an almost finished bottle of Jim Beam and some beer. After Eerie walked off, Jv looks at me and goes "i wanna see what a night out of drinking would even be like if the two of you went out together." (I was informed earlier last month this "he is a rude lush just like you.")
The signing was kinda funny. Eerie and I just kinda didn't know what to say to one another and it was kinda one of those convos where both parites just go "yep" back and forth to each other which was always portrayed in King of the Hill when the guys would just sit around drinking beer and going "yep". Tom Bejworkicz struck up a short lived convo with me about They Live since I was wearing my Obey shirt with the news caster alien in front of it. This convo was cut off by Eerie asking if we'd seen some movie caleld invasion of frog people or something like that. This was followed by I believe JV talking with him about that as Tom and I kinda just shrugged our shoulders and were like "yea, ok. what they said." Eerie had extended an invite to come with the guys after the signing to a Mexican joint for eats and drinks. That sounded like a fun idea til we went upstairs to go outside and I literally bumped into Chud who was trying to be all incogneato with his glasses on and a hoodie up (but how incogneato can you be when you're wearing a beanie with a giant logo of the band you used to be in across your fucking forehead?) While outside smoking he kept glancing over in our direction and we knew he'd probably be at the mexican place and that would just be awkward as all hell (if you don't know the back story to why, just know it'd be awkard as all hell).
Act 2:
So yea, Jv and I had to pee and were hungry and wanted to go someplace warm to sit down and eat. I suggested Ben's Pizza cause well, it's fucking pizza and it's the only one I could think of in that area with a bathroom, seating arrangements and good pizza. Of course we can't even eat in peace cause bums in New York have the nerve to walk into establishments that dont have door men or bouncers to keep riff-raff out and this fucking bum came right up to us trying to do magic tricks with a deck of cards. Man was sloppy as shit and I watched as he was not at all sly in any of his movements. I watched as he tried sliding my card to the top of the deck. Failed. He got JV's card right, but he fucked up when he was sliding my card around and it just didn't come up. Also, the whole thing where he tries to hold the card on the backside of your hand trick... yea. not too suave about that. And yes, I am critiquing a bum's card handling ettiquette.
After we were done, eating, pissing, etc. We went back to Generation. The crowd was still there and so was Sal Bee and Chud who were hanging out with some people in the store. We decided it would be in our best interests not to stick around. I texted Romil cause he said he was gonna be at Union Bar with Dan. They were still there so we put money in the meter to last til 10pm (aka when parking is free) and hopped a cab to Union Square. First of all, fuck that cabbie. Second of all, apparently I was with JV the first time he's ever ridden a taxi in NYC. We got to Union bar and Dan and Romil were hanging out with Mel and her friend at the back end of the bar. We met up had like 2 drinks and then went to this other fucking bar I forget the name of but wasn't too fond of. My sister met us up, followed by Scott and Jose who came from work and then Loki showed up. a few round of shots were given to me cause my birthday is coming up on monday (ugh, kill me) and shortly after JV told me Ed was in the city at some bar his cousin works at. Me, JV, Loki and my sister left for this place.
Act 3:
Where did we end up? a damn japanese styled bar with a liquor bar in the front when you walk in and a sushi bar in the far back. It was also karaoke night there last night. Apparently JV and my sister conspired to sign me up to sign Poker Face by Lady Gaga. Yea, all I hear is "Ramy... the birthday boy. You're signing." I go up and am like "what the fuck did you assholes sign me up for?" I looked down at the screen and was like "loooord!" Yea, JV filmed the whole slow motion train wreck. At points I was just garbling my words and filling in my own words. At one point I said something like "crazy niggas" and then looked up to realize that the table in front of me was nothing but black couples... all staring at me. This was followed by me noticing one of the karaoke hosts was coming towards me for a second and i was sure he was gonna grab the mic from me. He didn't though and let me go on making it known I am the shame of my family. A buncha high kicks and Axl Rose shimmies and some horribly off key singing later and that train wreck pulled into the station for it's final destination; Fail town. I'm sure the horrors witnessed at that point in the night will be up on youtube a while after whenever it is JV wakes up today.
Apparently around this time there was some altercations between Dan and Jose. From what I'm told Dan said some shit to Jose, Jose went outside cursing, some guy heard Jose and thought he was directing at him, comes over to confront Jose and without a word being said, Jose just decked the guy and then realized the dude he punched was with 4 other dudes, so Jose ran into a cab and headed back to his place in Brooklyn, and because of that, we lead to...
Act 4:
For a while we were sitting around drinking and watching people bomb at karaoke and making jokes as we got drunker and drunker. This is around the time I started getting calls and texts from Scott asking me where Jose was and that he left his jacket and cellphone at the last bar. Then Romil called. Mind you I texted both of them several times with the address to where we were located at. They showed up one by one. Scott and Loki went off to McDonalds and apparently ate 2 meals each. I sat around with my sister, JV and Ed cause shortly after talking to Dan and Romil, the two of them left.
We left shortly after. Scott and I said our goodbyes to Loki and JV and we split for our cars. Scott and I walked in the freezing cold back to the west side, talking and BSing. Giving Scott my stories of experience with the opposite sex and how I handle things, and how he shouldn't handle them. And, as usual, every story I had was followed with "That's horrible" or "how could you do that? Jesus."
We finally got back to the car (after me freaking out that my car wasn't in the spot I parked it in, followed by me remembering I didn't even park it on that street, but the block over) and I drove Scott back to his car that was parked off of McLean ave in Yonkers.
As I was getting into bed, I got a text from Scott saying Jose's keys were in the coat pocket Scott was holding onto and I told him there is no way I was driving back to Manhattan at 4 in the morning. I passed out and woke up wanting to kill myself due to sinuses and a hungover, both leading to a major headache this morning.
Tonight, I think I'm going to Loki's. Dunno for sure wanted to go to the city to meet up with Natasha for drinks, but who knows what the fuck is going on now. For all I know, Loki is planning some big shebang of a house party in my name. I am never one for my own birthday (I think Aker said... or quoted star trek, that I treat my birthday like a funeral). Eh, Whatever. Someone let me know what the fuck is going on cause otherwise I'm gonna just lay in bed all night.
So, last night I went to Loki's to meet up him and JV. JV and I sat around, he playing that new Super Mario for Wii as Sam read off walkthroughs for each level, I sitting on the computer wasting my life waiting for Loki to get home from work. We were waiting for Loki cause we were all gonna go down together to the city. Loki opted to fall asleep right after getting home, so JV and I decided to just book it to the city.
Sitting in traffic is never fun. Bridge and Tunnel traffic is even worse and the fact we wanted to get to the place a little before the whole shebang went down was even more annoying. For an hour and a half we sat in traffic waiting to get across the Lincoln Tunnel to get to the damn show. Let me say that again, an hour and a fucking half of sitting in traffic. Once we hit Manhattan we booked it down 9th ave and made it pretty far down before we hit a red light. We found a spot not too far from Generation Records, paid for parking, and walked to the place. We got there and I had to pick up this card that I would then have to hand to someone later to get my copy of the book we were there for the signing of.
We missed most of the set, but got to see them (Eerie Von, Lyle Preslar and Mike D'Antonio) perform To Walk the Night, Killer Wolf and an Elvis song (I can't remember which one off the top of my head right now). JV took a video of them doing To Walk the Night on his video camera thingie which I'm sure he'll put up on youtube once he realizes no one is gona be posting anything online any time soon.
After they were done playing, Eerie was like "ok, lets sign some books!" and me and JV were apparently right next to the front of the line when we were looking at t-shirts. JV ended up buying the death dealer Samhain shirt I picked up a few months back at Generation (it is quite possibly my favorite shirt right now... and that sentance was quite possibly the gayest thing I've said in 2010 so far). Eerie walked up to JV while heading to the table to sign shit and I was like "what is that wonderful smell?" I looked up and saw he was holding an almost finished bottle of Jim Beam and some beer. After Eerie walked off, Jv looks at me and goes "i wanna see what a night out of drinking would even be like if the two of you went out together." (I was informed earlier last month this "he is a rude lush just like you.")
The signing was kinda funny. Eerie and I just kinda didn't know what to say to one another and it was kinda one of those convos where both parites just go "yep" back and forth to each other which was always portrayed in King of the Hill when the guys would just sit around drinking beer and going "yep". Tom Bejworkicz struck up a short lived convo with me about They Live since I was wearing my Obey shirt with the news caster alien in front of it. This convo was cut off by Eerie asking if we'd seen some movie caleld invasion of frog people or something like that. This was followed by I believe JV talking with him about that as Tom and I kinda just shrugged our shoulders and were like "yea, ok. what they said." Eerie had extended an invite to come with the guys after the signing to a Mexican joint for eats and drinks. That sounded like a fun idea til we went upstairs to go outside and I literally bumped into Chud who was trying to be all incogneato with his glasses on and a hoodie up (but how incogneato can you be when you're wearing a beanie with a giant logo of the band you used to be in across your fucking forehead?) While outside smoking he kept glancing over in our direction and we knew he'd probably be at the mexican place and that would just be awkward as all hell (if you don't know the back story to why, just know it'd be awkard as all hell).
Act 2:
So yea, Jv and I had to pee and were hungry and wanted to go someplace warm to sit down and eat. I suggested Ben's Pizza cause well, it's fucking pizza and it's the only one I could think of in that area with a bathroom, seating arrangements and good pizza. Of course we can't even eat in peace cause bums in New York have the nerve to walk into establishments that dont have door men or bouncers to keep riff-raff out and this fucking bum came right up to us trying to do magic tricks with a deck of cards. Man was sloppy as shit and I watched as he was not at all sly in any of his movements. I watched as he tried sliding my card to the top of the deck. Failed. He got JV's card right, but he fucked up when he was sliding my card around and it just didn't come up. Also, the whole thing where he tries to hold the card on the backside of your hand trick... yea. not too suave about that. And yes, I am critiquing a bum's card handling ettiquette.
After we were done, eating, pissing, etc. We went back to Generation. The crowd was still there and so was Sal Bee and Chud who were hanging out with some people in the store. We decided it would be in our best interests not to stick around. I texted Romil cause he said he was gonna be at Union Bar with Dan. They were still there so we put money in the meter to last til 10pm (aka when parking is free) and hopped a cab to Union Square. First of all, fuck that cabbie. Second of all, apparently I was with JV the first time he's ever ridden a taxi in NYC. We got to Union bar and Dan and Romil were hanging out with Mel and her friend at the back end of the bar. We met up had like 2 drinks and then went to this other fucking bar I forget the name of but wasn't too fond of. My sister met us up, followed by Scott and Jose who came from work and then Loki showed up. a few round of shots were given to me cause my birthday is coming up on monday (ugh, kill me) and shortly after JV told me Ed was in the city at some bar his cousin works at. Me, JV, Loki and my sister left for this place.
Act 3:
Where did we end up? a damn japanese styled bar with a liquor bar in the front when you walk in and a sushi bar in the far back. It was also karaoke night there last night. Apparently JV and my sister conspired to sign me up to sign Poker Face by Lady Gaga. Yea, all I hear is "Ramy... the birthday boy. You're signing." I go up and am like "what the fuck did you assholes sign me up for?" I looked down at the screen and was like "loooord!" Yea, JV filmed the whole slow motion train wreck. At points I was just garbling my words and filling in my own words. At one point I said something like "crazy niggas" and then looked up to realize that the table in front of me was nothing but black couples... all staring at me. This was followed by me noticing one of the karaoke hosts was coming towards me for a second and i was sure he was gonna grab the mic from me. He didn't though and let me go on making it known I am the shame of my family. A buncha high kicks and Axl Rose shimmies and some horribly off key singing later and that train wreck pulled into the station for it's final destination; Fail town. I'm sure the horrors witnessed at that point in the night will be up on youtube a while after whenever it is JV wakes up today.
Apparently around this time there was some altercations between Dan and Jose. From what I'm told Dan said some shit to Jose, Jose went outside cursing, some guy heard Jose and thought he was directing at him, comes over to confront Jose and without a word being said, Jose just decked the guy and then realized the dude he punched was with 4 other dudes, so Jose ran into a cab and headed back to his place in Brooklyn, and because of that, we lead to...
Act 4:
For a while we were sitting around drinking and watching people bomb at karaoke and making jokes as we got drunker and drunker. This is around the time I started getting calls and texts from Scott asking me where Jose was and that he left his jacket and cellphone at the last bar. Then Romil called. Mind you I texted both of them several times with the address to where we were located at. They showed up one by one. Scott and Loki went off to McDonalds and apparently ate 2 meals each. I sat around with my sister, JV and Ed cause shortly after talking to Dan and Romil, the two of them left.
We left shortly after. Scott and I said our goodbyes to Loki and JV and we split for our cars. Scott and I walked in the freezing cold back to the west side, talking and BSing. Giving Scott my stories of experience with the opposite sex and how I handle things, and how he shouldn't handle them. And, as usual, every story I had was followed with "That's horrible" or "how could you do that? Jesus."
We finally got back to the car (after me freaking out that my car wasn't in the spot I parked it in, followed by me remembering I didn't even park it on that street, but the block over) and I drove Scott back to his car that was parked off of McLean ave in Yonkers.
As I was getting into bed, I got a text from Scott saying Jose's keys were in the coat pocket Scott was holding onto and I told him there is no way I was driving back to Manhattan at 4 in the morning. I passed out and woke up wanting to kill myself due to sinuses and a hungover, both leading to a major headache this morning.
Tonight, I think I'm going to Loki's. Dunno for sure wanted to go to the city to meet up with Natasha for drinks, but who knows what the fuck is going on now. For all I know, Loki is planning some big shebang of a house party in my name. I am never one for my own birthday (I think Aker said... or quoted star trek, that I treat my birthday like a funeral). Eh, Whatever. Someone let me know what the fuck is going on cause otherwise I'm gonna just lay in bed all night.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The Bender to Ender December Part II
So, monday wasn't all that bad... for me at least. Kinda quiet (minus me screaming over my headphones on xbox live while I played Modern Warfare 2 with Scott earlier in the day). Basically monday was a day of lots of sleep to make up for the complete lack of sleep I got between Thursday and Sunday night.
Woke up to a bunch of texts from different people and then talked to Scott to find out he's in the dumps cause he was dumped... or something like that. I never really sat down and talked to him seriously for more than a few minutes of the subject (some friend, eh?)
So, what did I do? I was planning on going out tuesday for dollar beers or something but it turned into me taking Scott out to um... where the FUCK did we go? Oh yea, we went to Opal where Dan and Romil were hanging out having drinks together. We had a few drinks there and just shot the shit. There was some office party of some sort being held there. It was just this old dirty fucker with a bunch of young hot girls and some other old bag of a woman with them too. One girl had these RIDICULOUS boobs, and a nice ass. Jesus. This guy Dan kept refering to as "The Jersey Shore" kept hitting on her for a while net to us and we just kept making comments aomngst ourselves about how disgusted we were with this. At one point Romil accidentally spilled a beer all over Dan's coat and on Scott. This resulted in him making it up to us (even though I don't think anything really got on me) being given a round of this 15 year old scotch he just discovered recently. It was pretty good.
After a few rounds, we packed up our shit and left for across the street to this wine bar that Dan's friend was working at for the night. We just kept ordering rounds of gin and tonics til we got pretty shitted up. I think this was followed with shots of Jameson and that's around the time I was like "welp, I'm retarded right about now." Did I mention that when this girl serves us, she basically just pours an entire glass of gin and then puts like 3 droplets of tonic? All I pretty much remember in there was rounds of gin, fucking with the plug in menorah, and her being a fool for giving me and Scott quetionares to fill out. Some classic names written down were my "I. Ron Hyde" with the email "TransformersRule@gmail.com" and Scott's "Al B. Tross". Rory Calhoon got a few messages in basically saying something about wanting to motorboat "the blond with big cans". Haa. Dan kept telling us to be civil, but seriously, you put forms to fill out at a bar in front of drunk people with witty minds and what do you expect?
Around this time I was outside having a cigarette and I was informed that the girl was telling off Romil... so I of course continued to stay outside since last time I saw this girl I was informed she said I had many deep seeded issues (the time before that time I was kicked out the bar she worked at 3 times in one night... a new personal best if you ask me). Around this time Jose was texting me asking where we were so he could meet us up. He later found us across the street at this over priced pizza joint we eat at cause in that area of town, that's considered the cheaper of the pizzerias. That, and it's right next to all the bars. While ordering, Dan would ask for shit like "that 15 dollar slice over there" and "your premium 20 dollar bottled water" just being a dick to the guy cause of something that happened a while ago when he was in there once. We ate, Jose found us and we hopped in the car to give Dan a ride home.
We were all yelling shit at the window to people we were passing by. Of course, the one time I yell something out the window turns ugly. I yelled at some fat slob "Nice posture, fat ass!" This resulted in some guy, who I didn't even direct the comment to, chasing us 2 blocks down the street to a red light I was at, sticks his face in the window and goes "YEA! YOU SO TOUGH NOW?" I said "excuse me? was I talking to you?" He then kicked my car, goes "Yea, how do you like that?" and then runs off. Scott goes "did that guy just kick your car? Congratulations guy, you just kicked a car that no one cares about." We all started laughing hysterically at how retarded this guy was. Did I mention he looked like what I imagine Louis CK would look like if he just didn't shave at all?
But yea, after dropping Dan off, it was agreeded that we should all go to Down the Hatch for dollar beers. You know that feeling when you realize what was once a good place to have fun at is starting to make you feel old? Yea, it's starting to get like that when we go in there sometimes and tuesday night was one of those nights. The only fun we really had was when Scott just started bumping into some girl on purpose pushing her back and I was behind her, stomping my foot repeatedly at her like a horse in heat or something. She got so fucking freaked out and just ran off as we busted out hysterically laughing at her.
Other than that, i don't really know of what else we did that was noteworthy. OH, how can I forget. The scenes we made while sitting at the bar before we left. Singing nonsense into Scott's ear, bear hugging him and basically dry humping him and telling him to "accept it" as this couple sitting next to us looked on in shock, awe and confusion. Me repeatedly taking the tongs from the bar and snapping them at Scott and Jose and then finally me insinuating that we steal as many straws from the bar as possible. Basically just Scott shoved a shit ton of straws in his coat pocket as I kept trying to shove cocktail straws down his back pocket while running out laughing our asses off.
All else I can remember about that night was being in the hot dog joint on the corner of 4th and 6th (what the fuck is that place called? Something like Papaya Dog?) Nothing but sexual references to food were made while in there such as when the guy asked me what I wanted to order I pointed to Scott who put an order in for me with his, saying "he's gonna give me a big kenish" and "he's all the hot dog I need." The guy behind the counter was bewildered.
Wednesday night we were gonna go to the city, but I forgot Dan said he was gonna take the two of us to see the Nets lose with his dad. We picked him up from this bar/restaurant called the Bicycle Club or something and then we got lost from there. Ended up taking horrible side roads for a half an hour to an hour. Horrible. Then we get there and parking is horrible. The staff of people who work there are horrible. the way to get into the place is horrible. the team is doing beyond horrible. The seats we had on the other hand were pretty fucking good.In fact, here's the picture I took to send to Romil to show him how close to the court we were:
Like I said, they lost and I lost for paying 13 dollars for a beer and bag of nacho chips with nasty cheese and budget salsa.
Thursday wasn't too eventful. we went to 7-11, got Watermellon Four Loco and I passed out on Scott's couch watching King of the Hill with him.
Friday, Oh, friday. Friday, Scott came home from work and we headed out to Union Bar to show him what I would be doing while he's usually at Sarah's on Fridays. Drank gin and gatorade on the ride down to the city. Got to Union Bar and first thing out of my booze serving godess' mouth after she said her hellos to me was "where are your partners in crime?" We had a few drinks and I got it in my head to try and get this hot mess of a woman to hit on Scott. How hot of a mess was she? I think the first glance I got of her was her eating a chunk of cheese and kinda swaying drunkenly to the music while sitting on her bar stool, followed by her finishing the cheese, getting up and dancing like a wounded animal. Oh, and her hair looked like a beret off to it's side... but it was all hair. She was too drunk to even remember to go up to Scott, as well as was too busy grinding up on any filth bag that was horny enough to grind up on her, and all my attempts to have a good laugh to myself went out the window. Jose eventually met us up and so did Mr Dani aka Mr Nauti (haaa, I think maybe Scott is the only one that'll get that joke). Around this time Scott ordered some kinda shot called the angry nazi or the something or other. lemme tell you how it tasted. Remember Big Red chewing gum? Yea, now imagine that made out of poison. Yep. it was all cinamon tasting until the after taste kicked in, then you wonder if you just drank arsenic. Around this time is when Scott brushed past some guy and yelled something like "get out of my way, black dude!" Jose grabbed Scott, Mike tried talking to the guys that were offended by Scott. I saw nothing being resolved so I butt into the conversation, and trying to sound all professional, saying "excuse me gentlemen what seems to be the problem?" They went off repeating what Scott said and then that they think he's a racist, etc. I then respond with "no need to fear, I fight for diversity."They all looked at each other like "what the fuck?" and were so confused about the whole situation they just started laughing. Confusion and stupity saved Scott's ass from a beat down.
Eventually Loki rolled up and around this time is when Mike and Jose took Scott to McDonalds to sober him up and get some food in his belly. Me and Loki hung out at the bar drinking and doing rumple minz shots as I cursed his name for ordering them. eventually he and I closed our tabs out and met the rest of the guys up at McDonalds and basically sat tehre eating fries and watching Scott be a drunken mess. We decided on heading to Joshua Tree for a little bit, but that ended in Scott passing the fuck out in my car, Mike heading home after showing up and Loki heading home shortly after that. Me and Jose finished our drinks, went back to the car where Scott was passed out, and I took Jose home and then took Scott back home.
You ever hear the stories I am the only one to witness? The stories that involve me trying to drop a very black out drunk Scott off at his home? It usually involves him thinking I am going to kill him and throw him in the woods. Where this idea came from, no one will probably ever know. But yea. 20 minutes of me VIOLENTLY shaking him to try and wake him followed a few times by banging his head into the inside of the passenger door is about what happened. Yelling at him to wake up and get out of my car. This resulted in me opening my door, and keeping it open just in case he tries locking me out of the car with this insane fear of me killing him, going to his side of the car and ripping the door open followed by me going "get the fuck out of my car, you're home!" He looks up, sees the bushes and trees across the street from his house and goes "OH NO! NOT THE WOODS!" and fights me off and then slams the door closed on me. I then ran back around to my side of the car to make sure he didn't close it on me and I just start raining blows of open palmed slaps at him to get him out... finally he gets up and is like "jeez, ok. fine," and staggered off towards his house.
Yesterday, what happened? I wake up after a long post work nap and wake up to find out Scott's car is having trouble in the snow and he needs me to drive and John and his girlfriend are in town from New Mexico. Head to John's grandfather's where he's staying and all 4 of us meet up at this bar down the street for a few drinks with John's aunt. We left and went to a bar that actually accepted credit cards and a few drinks turned into many. Then it turned into John's girlfriend slapping me hard in the face. I felt it was undeserved, but whatever. Apparently, she doesn't like people using the term "retarded" (even after John was quoting a part from Daniel Tosh's standup where that phrase was used excessively) and the creme de la creme that resulted in me getting slapped was I called John a vagina or something and then when i said "you're girlfriend's right here" she just got up and slapped me as hard as could be. I just sat there in shock that I got slapped by this girl I just met and is dating my friend. Um, what else can I say to besmirch this girl's image? Oh, her sherlock holms style of theory that I am gay because I chew gum. Yes, apparently people think I'm gay because I chew gum and her gay friends back in New Mexico chew gum. If you think about it, the theory is irrefutable, no? Oh, did I mention she works with children who are kinda slow? So yea, the term "retarded" is a no-no, using physical force instead of talking things out is a yes!
So yea, that has been the week so far. Lord only knows what tonight has in store, if anything.
Fat guy at work is trying to convince me to go to an office mixer. I'm trying to convince Scott to come with me cause i am not going alone and obviously cannot pick up a date to save my life (especially since just about every girl I know doesn't talk to me anymore because of something or another lately). This is gonna be BAD if I do go. Ugh. Whatever. gotta actually go back to doing something productive at work since I actually came in. UGH
Woke up to a bunch of texts from different people and then talked to Scott to find out he's in the dumps cause he was dumped... or something like that. I never really sat down and talked to him seriously for more than a few minutes of the subject (some friend, eh?)
So, what did I do? I was planning on going out tuesday for dollar beers or something but it turned into me taking Scott out to um... where the FUCK did we go? Oh yea, we went to Opal where Dan and Romil were hanging out having drinks together. We had a few drinks there and just shot the shit. There was some office party of some sort being held there. It was just this old dirty fucker with a bunch of young hot girls and some other old bag of a woman with them too. One girl had these RIDICULOUS boobs, and a nice ass. Jesus. This guy Dan kept refering to as "The Jersey Shore" kept hitting on her for a while net to us and we just kept making comments aomngst ourselves about how disgusted we were with this. At one point Romil accidentally spilled a beer all over Dan's coat and on Scott. This resulted in him making it up to us (even though I don't think anything really got on me) being given a round of this 15 year old scotch he just discovered recently. It was pretty good.
After a few rounds, we packed up our shit and left for across the street to this wine bar that Dan's friend was working at for the night. We just kept ordering rounds of gin and tonics til we got pretty shitted up. I think this was followed with shots of Jameson and that's around the time I was like "welp, I'm retarded right about now." Did I mention that when this girl serves us, she basically just pours an entire glass of gin and then puts like 3 droplets of tonic? All I pretty much remember in there was rounds of gin, fucking with the plug in menorah, and her being a fool for giving me and Scott quetionares to fill out. Some classic names written down were my "I. Ron Hyde" with the email "TransformersRule@gmail.com" and Scott's "Al B. Tross". Rory Calhoon got a few messages in basically saying something about wanting to motorboat "the blond with big cans". Haa. Dan kept telling us to be civil, but seriously, you put forms to fill out at a bar in front of drunk people with witty minds and what do you expect?
Around this time I was outside having a cigarette and I was informed that the girl was telling off Romil... so I of course continued to stay outside since last time I saw this girl I was informed she said I had many deep seeded issues (the time before that time I was kicked out the bar she worked at 3 times in one night... a new personal best if you ask me). Around this time Jose was texting me asking where we were so he could meet us up. He later found us across the street at this over priced pizza joint we eat at cause in that area of town, that's considered the cheaper of the pizzerias. That, and it's right next to all the bars. While ordering, Dan would ask for shit like "that 15 dollar slice over there" and "your premium 20 dollar bottled water" just being a dick to the guy cause of something that happened a while ago when he was in there once. We ate, Jose found us and we hopped in the car to give Dan a ride home.
We were all yelling shit at the window to people we were passing by. Of course, the one time I yell something out the window turns ugly. I yelled at some fat slob "Nice posture, fat ass!" This resulted in some guy, who I didn't even direct the comment to, chasing us 2 blocks down the street to a red light I was at, sticks his face in the window and goes "YEA! YOU SO TOUGH NOW?" I said "excuse me? was I talking to you?" He then kicked my car, goes "Yea, how do you like that?" and then runs off. Scott goes "did that guy just kick your car? Congratulations guy, you just kicked a car that no one cares about." We all started laughing hysterically at how retarded this guy was. Did I mention he looked like what I imagine Louis CK would look like if he just didn't shave at all?
But yea, after dropping Dan off, it was agreeded that we should all go to Down the Hatch for dollar beers. You know that feeling when you realize what was once a good place to have fun at is starting to make you feel old? Yea, it's starting to get like that when we go in there sometimes and tuesday night was one of those nights. The only fun we really had was when Scott just started bumping into some girl on purpose pushing her back and I was behind her, stomping my foot repeatedly at her like a horse in heat or something. She got so fucking freaked out and just ran off as we busted out hysterically laughing at her.
Other than that, i don't really know of what else we did that was noteworthy. OH, how can I forget. The scenes we made while sitting at the bar before we left. Singing nonsense into Scott's ear, bear hugging him and basically dry humping him and telling him to "accept it" as this couple sitting next to us looked on in shock, awe and confusion. Me repeatedly taking the tongs from the bar and snapping them at Scott and Jose and then finally me insinuating that we steal as many straws from the bar as possible. Basically just Scott shoved a shit ton of straws in his coat pocket as I kept trying to shove cocktail straws down his back pocket while running out laughing our asses off.
All else I can remember about that night was being in the hot dog joint on the corner of 4th and 6th (what the fuck is that place called? Something like Papaya Dog?) Nothing but sexual references to food were made while in there such as when the guy asked me what I wanted to order I pointed to Scott who put an order in for me with his, saying "he's gonna give me a big kenish" and "he's all the hot dog I need." The guy behind the counter was bewildered.
Wednesday night we were gonna go to the city, but I forgot Dan said he was gonna take the two of us to see the Nets lose with his dad. We picked him up from this bar/restaurant called the Bicycle Club or something and then we got lost from there. Ended up taking horrible side roads for a half an hour to an hour. Horrible. Then we get there and parking is horrible. The staff of people who work there are horrible. the way to get into the place is horrible. the team is doing beyond horrible. The seats we had on the other hand were pretty fucking good.In fact, here's the picture I took to send to Romil to show him how close to the court we were:
Like I said, they lost and I lost for paying 13 dollars for a beer and bag of nacho chips with nasty cheese and budget salsa.
Thursday wasn't too eventful. we went to 7-11, got Watermellon Four Loco and I passed out on Scott's couch watching King of the Hill with him.
Friday, Oh, friday. Friday, Scott came home from work and we headed out to Union Bar to show him what I would be doing while he's usually at Sarah's on Fridays. Drank gin and gatorade on the ride down to the city. Got to Union Bar and first thing out of my booze serving godess' mouth after she said her hellos to me was "where are your partners in crime?" We had a few drinks and I got it in my head to try and get this hot mess of a woman to hit on Scott. How hot of a mess was she? I think the first glance I got of her was her eating a chunk of cheese and kinda swaying drunkenly to the music while sitting on her bar stool, followed by her finishing the cheese, getting up and dancing like a wounded animal. Oh, and her hair looked like a beret off to it's side... but it was all hair. She was too drunk to even remember to go up to Scott, as well as was too busy grinding up on any filth bag that was horny enough to grind up on her, and all my attempts to have a good laugh to myself went out the window. Jose eventually met us up and so did Mr Dani aka Mr Nauti (haaa, I think maybe Scott is the only one that'll get that joke). Around this time Scott ordered some kinda shot called the angry nazi or the something or other. lemme tell you how it tasted. Remember Big Red chewing gum? Yea, now imagine that made out of poison. Yep. it was all cinamon tasting until the after taste kicked in, then you wonder if you just drank arsenic. Around this time is when Scott brushed past some guy and yelled something like "get out of my way, black dude!" Jose grabbed Scott, Mike tried talking to the guys that were offended by Scott. I saw nothing being resolved so I butt into the conversation, and trying to sound all professional, saying "excuse me gentlemen what seems to be the problem?" They went off repeating what Scott said and then that they think he's a racist, etc. I then respond with "no need to fear, I fight for diversity."They all looked at each other like "what the fuck?" and were so confused about the whole situation they just started laughing. Confusion and stupity saved Scott's ass from a beat down.
Eventually Loki rolled up and around this time is when Mike and Jose took Scott to McDonalds to sober him up and get some food in his belly. Me and Loki hung out at the bar drinking and doing rumple minz shots as I cursed his name for ordering them. eventually he and I closed our tabs out and met the rest of the guys up at McDonalds and basically sat tehre eating fries and watching Scott be a drunken mess. We decided on heading to Joshua Tree for a little bit, but that ended in Scott passing the fuck out in my car, Mike heading home after showing up and Loki heading home shortly after that. Me and Jose finished our drinks, went back to the car where Scott was passed out, and I took Jose home and then took Scott back home.
You ever hear the stories I am the only one to witness? The stories that involve me trying to drop a very black out drunk Scott off at his home? It usually involves him thinking I am going to kill him and throw him in the woods. Where this idea came from, no one will probably ever know. But yea. 20 minutes of me VIOLENTLY shaking him to try and wake him followed a few times by banging his head into the inside of the passenger door is about what happened. Yelling at him to wake up and get out of my car. This resulted in me opening my door, and keeping it open just in case he tries locking me out of the car with this insane fear of me killing him, going to his side of the car and ripping the door open followed by me going "get the fuck out of my car, you're home!" He looks up, sees the bushes and trees across the street from his house and goes "OH NO! NOT THE WOODS!" and fights me off and then slams the door closed on me. I then ran back around to my side of the car to make sure he didn't close it on me and I just start raining blows of open palmed slaps at him to get him out... finally he gets up and is like "jeez, ok. fine," and staggered off towards his house.
Yesterday, what happened? I wake up after a long post work nap and wake up to find out Scott's car is having trouble in the snow and he needs me to drive and John and his girlfriend are in town from New Mexico. Head to John's grandfather's where he's staying and all 4 of us meet up at this bar down the street for a few drinks with John's aunt. We left and went to a bar that actually accepted credit cards and a few drinks turned into many. Then it turned into John's girlfriend slapping me hard in the face. I felt it was undeserved, but whatever. Apparently, she doesn't like people using the term "retarded" (even after John was quoting a part from Daniel Tosh's standup where that phrase was used excessively) and the creme de la creme that resulted in me getting slapped was I called John a vagina or something and then when i said "you're girlfriend's right here" she just got up and slapped me as hard as could be. I just sat there in shock that I got slapped by this girl I just met and is dating my friend. Um, what else can I say to besmirch this girl's image? Oh, her sherlock holms style of theory that I am gay because I chew gum. Yes, apparently people think I'm gay because I chew gum and her gay friends back in New Mexico chew gum. If you think about it, the theory is irrefutable, no? Oh, did I mention she works with children who are kinda slow? So yea, the term "retarded" is a no-no, using physical force instead of talking things out is a yes!
So yea, that has been the week so far. Lord only knows what tonight has in store, if anything.
Fat guy at work is trying to convince me to go to an office mixer. I'm trying to convince Scott to come with me cause i am not going alone and obviously cannot pick up a date to save my life (especially since just about every girl I know doesn't talk to me anymore because of something or another lately). This is gonna be BAD if I do go. Ugh. Whatever. gotta actually go back to doing something productive at work since I actually came in. UGH
Sunday, December 6, 2009
I Wrote Holden Caulfield and so Did You
I don't even know where to start off cause I have so many thoughts raging in my head right now. All these things, jumbled up in my brain right now, thrashing left and right. It's like the fucking pits that would go down at a hardcore show during a breakdown back when CBGB was around. I'm just sitting here trying to keep from getting a roundhouse kick to the head right now.
Anyway... um yea.
Last night was so-so. It was kinda like jerking off and then not busting your nut off at the end. Met up Romil at Union Bar, AGAIN. Much like the night before, I miraculously got a parking spot a stones throw from the bar (getting good parking this past month is about the ONLY good thing to happen in my life and realizing this is probably gonna lead to me being severely depressed in a few minutes). But what the fuck was I saying? Oh yea, we met up and had a few drinks before it was time to get to the theater to see Mystery Team. I had maybe 2 or 3 gin and tonics and a shot of cafe patron or patron cafe... or whatever the fuck that coffee flavored tequila is fucking called. The bartender eerily looked like the splitting image of this girl I know/knew from Jersey. Unfortunately, she did not cut us a break like the girl who usually takes care of us when we go there (really, I cannot emphisize enough how hot that girl is and how she is a fucking saint for giving us deals on drinks and puts up with our jackassery).
Onward, we left for the theater. It was just about full when we got there but we managed to get good seats, if you consider the fact people who are well off have nicer home theaters in their basements than this dump, and you aren't ontop of each other in seats that barely fit your ass in. Seriously, it was like a theater for midgets. Rather large midgets, but midgets none the less. If not midgets, fat kids. But I am digressing like a mother fucker right now. I really wish people weren't idiots. what is it with some people that they have this need, want or desire to be complete morons when in the room with someone even remotely famous? Do you really have to laugh extra hard to obnoxious proportions at things that aren't even funny, just because the person may be a funny fellow? Seriously, Don Glover could have told the crowd the ingredients in a dishwashing detergent and these people would fucking LOSE it. I had the displeasure of sitting next to 3 asian kids like this. I couldn't hear half the fucking lines thanks to their dumb, stupid, forced laughter. Fucking just sit there and enjoy the fucking movie for what it is Goddammit. People like that are one of the many reasons I hate so much. I seriously sat there just staring at these kids several points during the movie, but Romil kept telling me to calm down and just ignore them. Kinda hard to ignore the elephant in the room when it's blasting his trunk in your face. There was a Q&A after the movie. Some of the questions were mentally crippling. Like seriously, I cant enjoy living with idiots like this in the world. Darwin was a fucking liar. It's not the fit that are surviving. IT's the spoiled ass-hat wearing children of mongolids that are thriving, and they need to be stopped... and on that note, i am going to stop talking about everything but the movie before this starts sounding like the makings of a manifesto in the vein of Ted Kaczynski.
but yea, how bout them yankees?
After the movie we met up Ronak, his girlfriend and their friends for Roank's girlfriend's birthday party. We didn't really have any intent to stay there for all too long. It was kinda crowded. Romil checked his coat and I refused to because that A) insiuated we were staying longer than I desired to and; B) I am not paying some asshole to put my coat on a hanger. Get a real job you fuck'tards (this coming from a guy whose job is a fucking joke). But yea, we couldn't find him, then realized tehre was an upstairs. Lemme tell you something about upstairs. IT SUCKED. It was WAAAAAY over crowded and stunk like a guido at the gym. The description I texted to Scott about this place was that I felt like I was in a sardine can that was fermented by jocar noir (or however that fucking cologne is spelt) and sweat. It was like a fucking animal den in there. This one guy was doing one of those really retarded things that somehow is called "dancing" where he was basically just inappropriately acting out sex on some girl that was sitting on a couch. It was kinda like that video of those kids showing off their ability to sex it up... but on an ottoman. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you are fucking seriosuly missing out on hilarity. As if THAT wasn't enough, there was some guy that looked like Seal, minus the facial scars, in a corduroy jacket just snapping photo after photo of drunks girls butts as they danced. Around the same time I noticed this going on, some other mongoloid tried talking to me about God knows what and I just looked at him blankly and walked away. I think he over heard me making fun of someone. I told some really mess of a drunk girl "no hablo ingles" when she came up to me. She was like "whaat?" I said "i don't speak english" and she goes "oh, ok" and walked away. I was in no mood to be in there and it showed. OH, what else happened? Something weird. Here's my texts to Scott regarding the place:
"This PLACE is dirt!"
"This bar i'm at that ronak told us to go to. nothing but judging indians and some fat cambodian dude with a fauxhawk rubbing his sweaty belly like he's the all knowing peaceful buddah"
I think Romil tried introducing me to some people and i was just an utter asshole off the bat. Some guy came up to me and I just went "woah, woah woah... you're not indian," before he could get a word in. After a few shots and rounds we left. Shit was EXPENSIVE. I don't know what you were paying all that money for. Definitely not the atmosphere. Definitely not the watered down shit they told me was booze. Definitely not the "awesome" dj work of that asshole sitting there with an ipod. Bang up job he fucking did. I should start calling myself DJ Ramy. I mean, I know how to use the shuffle option on my itunes. That's all these lowlifes do... AND THEY GET PAID TO DO IT!
Loki met us up around the time I walked out and refused to come back in. I was sitting outside chain smoking (yea, good idea when you're sick, right?) and ended up talking to some asian chick who was with the party. My subtle hints to come to the next bar with us (which was basially "yea, we're going around the corner to this other bar. You should come with us) didn't seem to work. But whatever. We showed up to this bar Jeff was working at. It was kinda dead... and I just remembered I should check the pockets of my jeans I was wearng last night when I get home from work. I forgot I kept stuffing the free peanuts they had out into my pockets and was walking around, eating them out of my pocket so I didn't have to just sit there in front of a bucket on the bar. I also made QUITE the mess with the shells. Well, it was kinda messy to begin with, i just contributed more to it. Also, that place gives out free hot dogs that you serve yourself. Seriously. It was a miniturized version of one of those street vendor carts, just sitting in the corner of the bar. It had all these condiments... which also reminds me, I have to clean my hoodie cause I sprayed ketchup all over myself. I am such a mess. It surprises me how long I've lived on this world. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't even know how to tie my own shoes if it was socially acceptable to wear velcro shoes past the age of 4.
Oh, and these fucking gavones asked me if I could score them some coke. Do I fucking look like a goddamn pusher? Seriously. Go jerk off with a cheese grater.
Smoking outside was usual Ramy wackiness. The bouncer was gone at one point and I took it upon myself to start carding people (long story, but me and TJ did it a few times outside a bar that didn't have a bouncer and people would buy us drinks to thank us for letting them in). Anyway, this guy wasn't mad at me... but he wasn't happy. In fact, he saw me and thought it was hilarious I was giving these people shit for their IDs. Only thing he was really upset about was he said there's a camera outside and he could get fired for me doing that shit. (how that works, I don't know). I did another thing that further proves I have the most retarded sense of trying to pick up girls. What was it? Hitting on a hot blond outside the bar while her boyfriend just sat there like the jamoke he came off as. God, what is wrong with me?
We all eventually left when we realized nothing was happening and it was gonna stay that way. Romil and I took a cab back to my car, I drove him to his car, and then I drove home somehow. I passed the fuck out within minutes of getting home.
I woke up today, spitting up blood filled loogies and snot rocketing out blood filled boogers. Life is pretty peachy.
I'll end this with two quotes I got from Scott last night that I found humerous:
- Tony and Marc were laughing at how drunk and angry I was last night while playing cod. They were asking what was going on and why I kept yelling "Ramy shut up and why do you have my wig on?"
- Haha watching 89 batman and the money parade scene is on and hes dancing to prince on the float and sarah goes "thats so ramy"
Anyway... um yea.
Last night was so-so. It was kinda like jerking off and then not busting your nut off at the end. Met up Romil at Union Bar, AGAIN. Much like the night before, I miraculously got a parking spot a stones throw from the bar (getting good parking this past month is about the ONLY good thing to happen in my life and realizing this is probably gonna lead to me being severely depressed in a few minutes). But what the fuck was I saying? Oh yea, we met up and had a few drinks before it was time to get to the theater to see Mystery Team. I had maybe 2 or 3 gin and tonics and a shot of cafe patron or patron cafe... or whatever the fuck that coffee flavored tequila is fucking called. The bartender eerily looked like the splitting image of this girl I know/knew from Jersey. Unfortunately, she did not cut us a break like the girl who usually takes care of us when we go there (really, I cannot emphisize enough how hot that girl is and how she is a fucking saint for giving us deals on drinks and puts up with our jackassery).
Onward, we left for the theater. It was just about full when we got there but we managed to get good seats, if you consider the fact people who are well off have nicer home theaters in their basements than this dump, and you aren't ontop of each other in seats that barely fit your ass in. Seriously, it was like a theater for midgets. Rather large midgets, but midgets none the less. If not midgets, fat kids. But I am digressing like a mother fucker right now. I really wish people weren't idiots. what is it with some people that they have this need, want or desire to be complete morons when in the room with someone even remotely famous? Do you really have to laugh extra hard to obnoxious proportions at things that aren't even funny, just because the person may be a funny fellow? Seriously, Don Glover could have told the crowd the ingredients in a dishwashing detergent and these people would fucking LOSE it. I had the displeasure of sitting next to 3 asian kids like this. I couldn't hear half the fucking lines thanks to their dumb, stupid, forced laughter. Fucking just sit there and enjoy the fucking movie for what it is Goddammit. People like that are one of the many reasons I hate so much. I seriously sat there just staring at these kids several points during the movie, but Romil kept telling me to calm down and just ignore them. Kinda hard to ignore the elephant in the room when it's blasting his trunk in your face. There was a Q&A after the movie. Some of the questions were mentally crippling. Like seriously, I cant enjoy living with idiots like this in the world. Darwin was a fucking liar. It's not the fit that are surviving. IT's the spoiled ass-hat wearing children of mongolids that are thriving, and they need to be stopped... and on that note, i am going to stop talking about everything but the movie before this starts sounding like the makings of a manifesto in the vein of Ted Kaczynski.
but yea, how bout them yankees?
After the movie we met up Ronak, his girlfriend and their friends for Roank's girlfriend's birthday party. We didn't really have any intent to stay there for all too long. It was kinda crowded. Romil checked his coat and I refused to because that A) insiuated we were staying longer than I desired to and; B) I am not paying some asshole to put my coat on a hanger. Get a real job you fuck'tards (this coming from a guy whose job is a fucking joke). But yea, we couldn't find him, then realized tehre was an upstairs. Lemme tell you something about upstairs. IT SUCKED. It was WAAAAAY over crowded and stunk like a guido at the gym. The description I texted to Scott about this place was that I felt like I was in a sardine can that was fermented by jocar noir (or however that fucking cologne is spelt) and sweat. It was like a fucking animal den in there. This one guy was doing one of those really retarded things that somehow is called "dancing" where he was basically just inappropriately acting out sex on some girl that was sitting on a couch. It was kinda like that video of those kids showing off their ability to sex it up... but on an ottoman. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you are fucking seriosuly missing out on hilarity. As if THAT wasn't enough, there was some guy that looked like Seal, minus the facial scars, in a corduroy jacket just snapping photo after photo of drunks girls butts as they danced. Around the same time I noticed this going on, some other mongoloid tried talking to me about God knows what and I just looked at him blankly and walked away. I think he over heard me making fun of someone. I told some really mess of a drunk girl "no hablo ingles" when she came up to me. She was like "whaat?" I said "i don't speak english" and she goes "oh, ok" and walked away. I was in no mood to be in there and it showed. OH, what else happened? Something weird. Here's my texts to Scott regarding the place:
"This PLACE is dirt!"
"This bar i'm at that ronak told us to go to. nothing but judging indians and some fat cambodian dude with a fauxhawk rubbing his sweaty belly like he's the all knowing peaceful buddah"
I think Romil tried introducing me to some people and i was just an utter asshole off the bat. Some guy came up to me and I just went "woah, woah woah... you're not indian," before he could get a word in. After a few shots and rounds we left. Shit was EXPENSIVE. I don't know what you were paying all that money for. Definitely not the atmosphere. Definitely not the watered down shit they told me was booze. Definitely not the "awesome" dj work of that asshole sitting there with an ipod. Bang up job he fucking did. I should start calling myself DJ Ramy. I mean, I know how to use the shuffle option on my itunes. That's all these lowlifes do... AND THEY GET PAID TO DO IT!
Loki met us up around the time I walked out and refused to come back in. I was sitting outside chain smoking (yea, good idea when you're sick, right?) and ended up talking to some asian chick who was with the party. My subtle hints to come to the next bar with us (which was basially "yea, we're going around the corner to this other bar. You should come with us) didn't seem to work. But whatever. We showed up to this bar Jeff was working at. It was kinda dead... and I just remembered I should check the pockets of my jeans I was wearng last night when I get home from work. I forgot I kept stuffing the free peanuts they had out into my pockets and was walking around, eating them out of my pocket so I didn't have to just sit there in front of a bucket on the bar. I also made QUITE the mess with the shells. Well, it was kinda messy to begin with, i just contributed more to it. Also, that place gives out free hot dogs that you serve yourself. Seriously. It was a miniturized version of one of those street vendor carts, just sitting in the corner of the bar. It had all these condiments... which also reminds me, I have to clean my hoodie cause I sprayed ketchup all over myself. I am such a mess. It surprises me how long I've lived on this world. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't even know how to tie my own shoes if it was socially acceptable to wear velcro shoes past the age of 4.
Oh, and these fucking gavones asked me if I could score them some coke. Do I fucking look like a goddamn pusher? Seriously. Go jerk off with a cheese grater.
Smoking outside was usual Ramy wackiness. The bouncer was gone at one point and I took it upon myself to start carding people (long story, but me and TJ did it a few times outside a bar that didn't have a bouncer and people would buy us drinks to thank us for letting them in). Anyway, this guy wasn't mad at me... but he wasn't happy. In fact, he saw me and thought it was hilarious I was giving these people shit for their IDs. Only thing he was really upset about was he said there's a camera outside and he could get fired for me doing that shit. (how that works, I don't know). I did another thing that further proves I have the most retarded sense of trying to pick up girls. What was it? Hitting on a hot blond outside the bar while her boyfriend just sat there like the jamoke he came off as. God, what is wrong with me?
We all eventually left when we realized nothing was happening and it was gonna stay that way. Romil and I took a cab back to my car, I drove him to his car, and then I drove home somehow. I passed the fuck out within minutes of getting home.
I woke up today, spitting up blood filled loogies and snot rocketing out blood filled boogers. Life is pretty peachy.
I'll end this with two quotes I got from Scott last night that I found humerous:
- Tony and Marc were laughing at how drunk and angry I was last night while playing cod. They were asking what was going on and why I kept yelling "Ramy shut up and why do you have my wig on?"
- Haha watching 89 batman and the money parade scene is on and hes dancing to prince on the float and sarah goes "thats so ramy"
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Regarding Last Night
First of all, I tell myself to stay away from dayquil/nyquil, especially when drinking. What happened? After originally planning on catching the 4pm showing of Mystery Team in the city, I ended up laying in bed miserable cause of my sinuses til about 6pm or so. I then showered, hopped down to the city and met Dan and Romil up in Union Square to hang out at our usual spot for some happy hour drinks and to shoot the shit as to kill time til another showing of the movie started. That, and the really hot bartender is always nice to us and just gives us shit for free all the time... and she's hot. I was feeling like shit, so Romil offered me what he calls "Scottish Robitussin". It was whiskey. A glass of that turned into these o-bomb shots. Well, it wasn't really an o-bomb but similar. The bartender made us 2 shots each. One was stoli-o and the other shot was orange flavored monster energy drink. We were told to take the stoli-o and chase it with the shot of monster. It got the job done and that is probably why I was so out of control when I got to Scott's later in the night. That and the whole drinking heavily while on dayquil I assume. The gin and tonics didn't help the situation either. Oh yea, and before Dan left, he told me a funny story. An ex girlfriend of his who is very self concious about photos that go up on the internet or something like that, etc took a picture of herself with Dan. I, apparently, photobombed it so bad that I am making this, as dan put it, dedicated facial expression that puts the "Have you seen my baseball" retarded brother from Something About Mary to shame. Instead of there being all these comments on how nice the picture is, people keep posting shit about me and my mongoloid face I'm making. Apparently she repeatedly brings up how "one of Dan's asshole friends" ruined her good photo. HAAAA! This basically is why I am the self proclaimed king of photobombing. I need to remind him to send me a copy of this photo. It may be up there with the photo I bombed at Viv's birthday party a few years back. The photo is of her and all her friends smiling and posing together right before they did some birthday shot, you know, one of those "this is a nice photo of friends" deals. You just see me off to the left of the photo making this retard face so bad that is causing me to shake from laughing so hard just thinking about it right now. The kicker was I was shown someone commented on it something like "does anyone see this man in the photo making that face?" I'm laughing so fucking hard right now that people at my job are looking at me weird. They have no idea cause they think I'm doing work but I'm sitting here typing away and laughing at how stupid I am.
ANYWAY, back to the story. we basically got lit up at our usual spot and then Ronak met us up for some drinks when he heard we were out(obviously, our plans of seing mystery team kept getting derailed at this point). Around 11:45 we decided to try and catch the midnight showing of the damn movie. What happened was this. We didn't even know where the damn theater was in the first place other than "a few blocks away", so just imagine me and 2 Indian brothers like drunken buffoons running around the southern part of the Flat Iron district/Norther part of the East Village, asking random people on the street if they know where the theater is. Most people gave me that "get away from me you psycho" attitude (I wonder why?) We got there and I was standing on line for tickets. This couple in front of me kept claiming they were on the guest list and kept giving names that were either taken up or not on the list. This went on for a while til they decided to buy up some tickets. I went to get tickets and the guy gives me one ticket. I said "um... my friends need tickets too." The guy told me he just gave me the last ticket. I basically had to trade it up for 2 tickets to a showing tonight cause of this.
We went back to this other bar Romil likes that Ronak claimed some girls were gonna meet us up at. Apparently the main one Ronak was meeting up is a bitch and it was pretty apparent that I was to be a complete asshole to her and just lay it into her thick. We walked in, then walked out and I ended up going home... which turned into me calling Scott and yelling jibberish into the voicemail, then barging into his house cause I saw Jose's car parked outside. Apparntly I annoyed Scott to the point he had to stop playing the game he was playing. I don't remember much of the night other than me marching around his house wearing a wig, a leather cowboy hat and his eric estrada aviator glasses (you know, those glasses in the Burger King commercial that say "ESTRADA" across the lenses? yea, he has those). i left around 3 in the morning to eat cause I was starving and didn't know how much I could last drinking whiskey and eating cheese its. Also, I may have called some girl in DC pretending to be some heart broken ex boyfriend that was crying (or as Scott puts it that I sounded like an old worried yenta). Also, may have called some other people talking about nonsense. But, it wasn't me... or Scott. It was someone else, I swear.
ANYWAY, back to the story. we basically got lit up at our usual spot and then Ronak met us up for some drinks when he heard we were out(obviously, our plans of seing mystery team kept getting derailed at this point). Around 11:45 we decided to try and catch the midnight showing of the damn movie. What happened was this. We didn't even know where the damn theater was in the first place other than "a few blocks away", so just imagine me and 2 Indian brothers like drunken buffoons running around the southern part of the Flat Iron district/Norther part of the East Village, asking random people on the street if they know where the theater is. Most people gave me that "get away from me you psycho" attitude (I wonder why?) We got there and I was standing on line for tickets. This couple in front of me kept claiming they were on the guest list and kept giving names that were either taken up or not on the list. This went on for a while til they decided to buy up some tickets. I went to get tickets and the guy gives me one ticket. I said "um... my friends need tickets too." The guy told me he just gave me the last ticket. I basically had to trade it up for 2 tickets to a showing tonight cause of this.
We went back to this other bar Romil likes that Ronak claimed some girls were gonna meet us up at. Apparently the main one Ronak was meeting up is a bitch and it was pretty apparent that I was to be a complete asshole to her and just lay it into her thick. We walked in, then walked out and I ended up going home... which turned into me calling Scott and yelling jibberish into the voicemail, then barging into his house cause I saw Jose's car parked outside. Apparntly I annoyed Scott to the point he had to stop playing the game he was playing. I don't remember much of the night other than me marching around his house wearing a wig, a leather cowboy hat and his eric estrada aviator glasses (you know, those glasses in the Burger King commercial that say "ESTRADA" across the lenses? yea, he has those). i left around 3 in the morning to eat cause I was starving and didn't know how much I could last drinking whiskey and eating cheese its. Also, I may have called some girl in DC pretending to be some heart broken ex boyfriend that was crying (or as Scott puts it that I sounded like an old worried yenta). Also, may have called some other people talking about nonsense. But, it wasn't me... or Scott. It was someone else, I swear.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Blame it on the Rain
*WARNING: This is a long winded rant about the past 2 and a half days. It probably suffers from poor grammar and horrible spelling. It is to shut you, the reader who bothers me for not writing anymore, up.*
This past Thursday and Friday had been nothing but a hedonistic alcohol fused tornado of awesome.
Thursday started off long and boring but ended with... um? some kinda bang we'll call it. I went downtown during lunch to get Joe's Pizza and check out some record shops (I have a feeling I'm gonna be doing this until I get either the Cobra or the Chrysler back on the road. Chances of the Cobra getting fixed any time soon are slim to none... to the fact I might just push it off a cliff fairly soon. But yea, I finally got that "spoken word" album that is just this 12" vinyl record that compiles Paul Bearer's best rants from over the years of touring with Sheer Terror and heckling the crowd between songs. I think it's called No Really, Go Fuck Yourself. I haven't had a chance to sit down and listen to this masterpiece of trash talking, but I'm sure it's hilarious. I also got my hands on an original, 1st pressing, of Dead Kennedys' EP "In God We Trust, Inc." good shit.
But yea, nothing too crazy happened in the city besides some weirdo who kept kicking a pay phone trying to get it to work and only stoppded doing so to tell me he thought Danzig was the shit (he said this cause I was wearing my Danzig hoodie).
Anyway, I was feeling exhausted by the time I finally got on the highway back home. For some reason instead of taking a nap or something a normal person would do when they're tired, I just sat around watching tv and eventually making myself dinner. Did I mention that the only way worse way for your eye to tear up from chopping onions is to actually get a piece of onion flung into your eye? Yea, not fun. I made ghetto tacos. Not only that, I cooked for 2 or 3 people... but those 2 or 3 people just happened to be me, me and me. I ate as much as I could and put the leftovers away. I hopped in the shower, then proceeded to get a nice amount of shampoo in my eye like a jackass, and got dressed to go out (by that, I mean the usual t-shirt, jeans, hoodie and glob of pomade in my hair combo).
By the time I got to Scott's house, I was doing my usual old man complaints. My stomache is bothering me (obviously cause I had a taco feast unto myself), I'm tired, I'm thirsty, bla bla bla. We then headed off to the city, but made a quick pit stop before we hit the highway. I made Scott go to the bodega in town and get me something that'd wake me up. He came back with 2 double shot expressos in a can and another can of monster energy drink. Not only that, but he was on the phone with who we thought was Dan (but when I asked Dan the next day, he started laughing and said he wished he pranked Scott saying the shit this mongo was telling him). I dunno. The guy called doing a bad southern accent and saying stupid shit and also mentioned he was recording the call to show the cops he's threatening to murder him or somethign retarded (come to think of it, I think I know who it is now... whatever).
Anyway, we got down to Turtle Bay where Jeff was bartending that night. We walked in and went away from the guy working the door. We weren't sure if he was collecting money at the door or what, so I just bought a round of drinks and we walked past him without looking at him just in case he did want money from us. We then decided to go upstairs to A) see what it looked like up there and B) to see if Jeff was up there. He was and what happened for the rest of the night was drunken fiascos. Well, more like a normal night out for me and Scott.
First of all, may I let it be known that I want to murder every bartender in there? (well, besides jeff). Thursday night was the starting point and when I had to deal with them again last night (I'll get to that later), I just wanted to come back with a mini gun and mow the entire place down. I dunno who to hate more froM Thursday night more though. The douchebag with the frosted tips, taking girls cameras and doing these gay myspace poses, or the other douche and a half. Why is the other guy a bigger douche by half a douche? Because later in the night, when Pac met us up, Jeff asked me "you guys want shots?" (side note: Jeff never charges us for shit and on top of that, our drinks are usually doubles or tripples or just straight whatever liquor we ordered). So yea, shots are of the high end variety and don't cost a thing cause it's Jeff. Anyway, I tell Jeff to get us rumple minz and he asks one of the 2 bartenders where the bottle of that was cause he couldn't find it. The douche and a half and the frosted tips fag (seriously, who in the fuck frosts their tips? people who took a time machine and went back to 1995 to live a dull, fruity and menial life?) tell Jeff they don't have it. Douchey-Halfy rushes over to me and tells me they don't have it and then tells me they have Blackhaus instead. I tell him I am not drinking that shit. He asks me what I want instead. I tell him "I told him just to get me whiskey if you guys didn't have it." Douche and half asks "what kind?" I said "i don't know, he'll surprise me." The guy runs away and comes back going "you wanted 4, right?" I go "uh, sure, whatever," figuring Jeff would take care of it and I wouldn't pay (or well, I was gonna hand Jeff some loot for him for the rest of the night as a tip). Turns out the guy decided to take the order as his own and then hands me 4 mini plastic piece of shit cups that were the poorest excuses for shots and goes "that'll be 32 dollars." I look at him and go "what?" He goes "yea, 4 shots of this is 32 dollars." Me and Pac threw a 20 in each figuring the change of that is more than enough for 4 shots. The guy comes back and gives me the change and says "it was red label by the way." I threw the money back down on the table (maybe me and pac took it back, i don't remember) and when I told Pac and Scott what the guy said to me we all started going off on how red label is nothing to write home about and that guy being, indeed, a douche and a half.
The night only got worse in douchebaggery from there. The people in there were of the frat boy mentality. WE were probably the oldest people in there, save for the guy who looked like ernest hemmingway's slightly younger brother and the token africans bathroom attendant who I automatically hate, cause seriously sitting outside a bathroom and cornering you to take a paper towel and pay him a dollar for doing something you could have easily done yourself, then asking if you shit like if you want a stick of gum or to douse yourself in jacour noir and smell like trash.
highlights include me and scott laughing at some kid who looked like he just came from his own bar mitzvah, some dude wearing combat boots, ripped to shit levis, a flannel shirt with matching bow tie and a suit vest hitting on some girl, losers line dancing to Santeria by Sublime and the worlds worst DJ. I acutally started yelling at him that he sucks and I hope he goes to hell. Seriously, he was playing What's my Age Again by Blink-182 (strike one) and then started blairing that siren sample every Dj and their half-retarded mother has over and over again like it was late night on Hot 97 with Funk Master Flex (strike two through eleven). One guy said to me "hey, I don't see you up there doing what he's doing." I went off on the guy saying something about how I don't consider some fat kid with his ipod of shitty music he listened to at some state college and a sample box of sound effects downloaded off some my first dj gig website hooked up to a pa system as a dj.
Eventually Scott and I just couldn't take anymore reasons to hate humanity and we left. Scott was a blithering mess and a half. Why? Um, I don't know where to start off. A) He lost his cell phone at the bar. B) he fell backwards on an escalator going up. C) when I stopped to ask a cop for directions to the nearest E line subway, he ran screaming that he didn't want to talk to a cop, then as I was talking to the cop, Scott slipped in the soaking wet rain, in the middle of the street and was laying there. The cop said to me "are you kidding me? is your friend drunk?" I said "no...." and ran to grab Scott before the cop could get to him, carrying (more like dragging) Scott down the street yelling "move your legs if you don't want a ticket for public drunkenenss!" D) when we finally got onto the E and were maybe 2 stops away from the transfer to the A, Scott gets up and runs off the train screaming we're going in the wrong direction and to get off the train. After realizing I wasn't gonna win that argument, I ran off the train after him to drag him back onto the train, but it was too late. What happened next? E) We had to wander up and down the west side highway looking for a cab to take us up to Inwood. 3 guys let us in and then told us they refused to drive us up there, probably thinking we wanted the bad part of teh bronx (which is just about every part of the bronx). I'd have to drag scott out of these cabs cause he refused to get out not understanding anything going on. I finally got some guy and as things went on realized more and more this guy was a crook. First of all, I realized he started taking us the long way and started cursing him out going "I swear to God, if your dumb ass brings us to brooklyn I will murder you" and other variations of that threat. Also, his meter would jump 4 bucks every 30 seconds to a minute. Also, I eventually noticed he didn't have a taxi license in the window to prove he's legit til he saw me staring at all the info he actually did have and slipped something in there thinking I was too drunk to realize.
What pissed me off was a mixture of that whole BS with the cabbie, Scott repeatedly opening the window and letting rain in as he layed there half alive in the back seat and the fact I had to pay this piece of shit 35 dollars (which he kept insisting cash only as I siad to go fuck himself cause I see a credit card machine in the back). Yea. I asked Scott to give me money but he just kept mumbling no as I literally kicked him to get out of the car.
We finally got to Dennis' garage in Inwood, where we parked. His immigrant worker who speaks no English kept yelling at me thinking I had to pay kept yelling in Spanish for me to stop and I just told him to shut up leave me alone and got in the car and took off.
2 seconds after we leave the garage and Scott musters up enough energy to yell at me to stop at the Hess station right before the highway to get food and drinks. I said fine cause I was starving. I gave him 7 bucks to get me chips and a drink. I shoulda went myself cause Scott couldn't get it in his mind that the reason the door wasn't opening the 12 or so times he tried ripping it open was cause you have to order through one of those drive thru-like windows to get what you want. I kept yelling at him from the car to just go to the window but he just kept sitting there yanking on the door and punching it til I said to get back in the car cause the guy was screaming he was gonna call the cops. Here's a photo of Scott trying to finally crawl through the drive-thru slot to get the guy, not to tell him waht we wanted, but to open the door as the guy kept yelling at him:
Eventually I dropped him off and got 2 hours of sleep before having to wake back up. I'm glad I didn't have to do the whole "you're gonna kill me" bit with him that he usuially does when he gets that drunk and thinks i'm going to kill him and dump him in the woods for some fucking reason.
But yea, Friday morning rolled around. I went to my mom's job in the Bronx and passed out in her office for a few hours. Hopped the train to Queens to meet up Romil and try and see the US Open. What ended up happening instead was we got bombed starting at 11am til 5pm there. We were in this expensive restaurant til about 2:30pm drinking and eating, then from then til 5 we wandered the stadium realizing the game was never gonna happen. You meet some weirdos at the US Open it seems. Well, ok, most are of the usual snobish persuasion (especially since we had those expensive court side seats that snobs are usually the only ones to buy up). But then there was this one guy wearing a miami dolphins hat and shirt with a cooperstown windbreaker. As he wouldn't leave the two of us alone more and more, it dawned upon me that he was some beyond crazy sports nut. Was he a Dolphins fan? No. Why was he wearing Dolphins hat and shirt? Cause the Williams sisters live in Florida and I'm pretty sure Serena has some stakes in the Dolphins franchise. Yea, he's one of those people that'll hear oh, so and so likes such and such. Lemme do something to get their attention with said thing they like. You know? like hot girl likes a band. you wear a shirt with that band's logo on it next time you know you're gonna see her, stupid conversaion pops up, bla bla bla. Did I mention not only did this guy (his name was Jeff something or other) live in Pittsburg, but he frequented to Dallas to catch Cowboys home games, he was a Canadians fan (who the fuck like the Canadians besides the damn idiots from that part of Canada that like hockey?), he claims to have been to over 1,000 Bob Dylan concerts all across America and he claims to hold the most innings pitched at some fucking special game held at cooperstown once a year between old farts and retired baseball hall of famers. Good for him and his weird ass.
Yea, whatever. We texted Dan and met him up at Union Bar for drinks. after ordering a basket of french fries to fill my stomache and get some patron cafe to wake me up, we ordered another round, that turned into the hot bartender we like giving us round after round of free shots. We became filled with more booze and a wild streak. It started on the subway. Me and Dan just kept yelling "PAY YO FARE!" over and over ala this one scene from Mo Money. Hilarity took it a step up when we realized 3 times we missed the stop we needed. The last time we got off the right train stop, Dan just goes and slaps some random dude right on the ass and then gave him a thumbs up, scaring the crap out of the guy.
We got to the bar and just started shouting. We grabbed a back table and kept yelling at the dykey waitress to give us drinks and to tell the dj to "play some fucking 80s music." haaa. Booze kept flying. My tab went from 30 bucks to 80 bucks after ordering rounds of shots left and right in an order or two. I kept mocking some dude with a giant dookie chain that was the stereotypical "yea, i grunt while i get my swell on at the gym" kinda douche.a midget walked in and gave me a high five later on (I guess he didn't see me laughing my ass off watching him just shove people out of the way on the dance floor to get to the bar). I don't even remember why. I think he said I was hilarious or something. I Can't blame him, right?
Romil eventually left us cause A) He had to catch the last ferry back to Jersey before it was too late and B)Cause by that point, me and Dan were being the biggest assholes to anything that would give us the time of day. I wish I could remember the shit said to girls in that place. It probably wasn't as epic as those nights us 2 and Scott would just go to the bar and be sloppy messes screaming at people, cursing them out for no reason, but whatever.
We ended up back at Dan's place and I got a ride home from there somehow. My mom had to put up with a very drunk me and lord only knows the shit spewing out of my mouth at that point in the night.
Anywya, yesterday was a stupid street fair outside my office. I hated it. It was raining. I stayed in the office and ignored as much as I could. Tried going back to Turtle Bay to get Scott's phone for him while he was at work. This is why I want to burn that place down (besides all the lowlifes that go there now). First person I dealt with; fat slob bartender who spent about 10 mintues talking to her friends sitting there than serving anyone or even noticing me standing there, making rude sounds at her to get her attention. Then her not knowing shit and rushing me asking her for Scott's phone so she could go back to ignoring everyone but her friends. I left, got pizza and came back. This time I made another girl look for the manager (i was told by fatty the manager would be in by 7 so I came back after 7). This girl was clueless and said it was her 2nd day on the job. Eventually some asshole working there comes up to me asking what I want to drink and I said "I want the cell phone I came here for." He started talking down to me so I started just getting really brash with what I said to him. The whole time this is going down, that fat pig was sitting at the bar, not doing her job at this point, and just shoving chicken fingers in her mouth and not chewing them as she talked to some old drunk guy.
I told Scott that if we get his phone before the Face to Face concert this Thursday, I am calling her a fat pig to her face and then, depending on how enraged/drunk I am, will probably throw a drink or something, thus banning us from ever being allowed back in there (but come to think of it, I've done a lot worse at other bars and am still not banned, so who knows... and did I mention I pissed all over the wall in the bathroom the Thursday night we were there?).
so yea. that's fun had this past weekend for me in a nutshell. I don't know when the next time I'll write in here is since I'm taking a creative writing class (dude wants me to try and publish a 10 to 15 page story for an instant A in his class) and I am also taking a writing for social sciences class with some neo hippie feminist bitch who assigned us to think about writing about a social enviorment. Of course I'm gonna do it on a bar. We're supposed to write about gender roles. i might just post it here if it's funny cause it'll probably end up being "shot girls are the bigest trash in the world and the fact they dress like skanks only further proves my theory that they should be treated like the human garbage they are."
This past Thursday and Friday had been nothing but a hedonistic alcohol fused tornado of awesome.
Thursday started off long and boring but ended with... um? some kinda bang we'll call it. I went downtown during lunch to get Joe's Pizza and check out some record shops (I have a feeling I'm gonna be doing this until I get either the Cobra or the Chrysler back on the road. Chances of the Cobra getting fixed any time soon are slim to none... to the fact I might just push it off a cliff fairly soon. But yea, I finally got that "spoken word" album that is just this 12" vinyl record that compiles Paul Bearer's best rants from over the years of touring with Sheer Terror and heckling the crowd between songs. I think it's called No Really, Go Fuck Yourself. I haven't had a chance to sit down and listen to this masterpiece of trash talking, but I'm sure it's hilarious. I also got my hands on an original, 1st pressing, of Dead Kennedys' EP "In God We Trust, Inc." good shit.
But yea, nothing too crazy happened in the city besides some weirdo who kept kicking a pay phone trying to get it to work and only stoppded doing so to tell me he thought Danzig was the shit (he said this cause I was wearing my Danzig hoodie).
Anyway, I was feeling exhausted by the time I finally got on the highway back home. For some reason instead of taking a nap or something a normal person would do when they're tired, I just sat around watching tv and eventually making myself dinner. Did I mention that the only way worse way for your eye to tear up from chopping onions is to actually get a piece of onion flung into your eye? Yea, not fun. I made ghetto tacos. Not only that, I cooked for 2 or 3 people... but those 2 or 3 people just happened to be me, me and me. I ate as much as I could and put the leftovers away. I hopped in the shower, then proceeded to get a nice amount of shampoo in my eye like a jackass, and got dressed to go out (by that, I mean the usual t-shirt, jeans, hoodie and glob of pomade in my hair combo).
By the time I got to Scott's house, I was doing my usual old man complaints. My stomache is bothering me (obviously cause I had a taco feast unto myself), I'm tired, I'm thirsty, bla bla bla. We then headed off to the city, but made a quick pit stop before we hit the highway. I made Scott go to the bodega in town and get me something that'd wake me up. He came back with 2 double shot expressos in a can and another can of monster energy drink. Not only that, but he was on the phone with who we thought was Dan (but when I asked Dan the next day, he started laughing and said he wished he pranked Scott saying the shit this mongo was telling him). I dunno. The guy called doing a bad southern accent and saying stupid shit and also mentioned he was recording the call to show the cops he's threatening to murder him or somethign retarded (come to think of it, I think I know who it is now... whatever).
Anyway, we got down to Turtle Bay where Jeff was bartending that night. We walked in and went away from the guy working the door. We weren't sure if he was collecting money at the door or what, so I just bought a round of drinks and we walked past him without looking at him just in case he did want money from us. We then decided to go upstairs to A) see what it looked like up there and B) to see if Jeff was up there. He was and what happened for the rest of the night was drunken fiascos. Well, more like a normal night out for me and Scott.
First of all, may I let it be known that I want to murder every bartender in there? (well, besides jeff). Thursday night was the starting point and when I had to deal with them again last night (I'll get to that later), I just wanted to come back with a mini gun and mow the entire place down. I dunno who to hate more froM Thursday night more though. The douchebag with the frosted tips, taking girls cameras and doing these gay myspace poses, or the other douche and a half. Why is the other guy a bigger douche by half a douche? Because later in the night, when Pac met us up, Jeff asked me "you guys want shots?" (side note: Jeff never charges us for shit and on top of that, our drinks are usually doubles or tripples or just straight whatever liquor we ordered). So yea, shots are of the high end variety and don't cost a thing cause it's Jeff. Anyway, I tell Jeff to get us rumple minz and he asks one of the 2 bartenders where the bottle of that was cause he couldn't find it. The douche and a half and the frosted tips fag (seriously, who in the fuck frosts their tips? people who took a time machine and went back to 1995 to live a dull, fruity and menial life?) tell Jeff they don't have it. Douchey-Halfy rushes over to me and tells me they don't have it and then tells me they have Blackhaus instead. I tell him I am not drinking that shit. He asks me what I want instead. I tell him "I told him just to get me whiskey if you guys didn't have it." Douche and half asks "what kind?" I said "i don't know, he'll surprise me." The guy runs away and comes back going "you wanted 4, right?" I go "uh, sure, whatever," figuring Jeff would take care of it and I wouldn't pay (or well, I was gonna hand Jeff some loot for him for the rest of the night as a tip). Turns out the guy decided to take the order as his own and then hands me 4 mini plastic piece of shit cups that were the poorest excuses for shots and goes "that'll be 32 dollars." I look at him and go "what?" He goes "yea, 4 shots of this is 32 dollars." Me and Pac threw a 20 in each figuring the change of that is more than enough for 4 shots. The guy comes back and gives me the change and says "it was red label by the way." I threw the money back down on the table (maybe me and pac took it back, i don't remember) and when I told Pac and Scott what the guy said to me we all started going off on how red label is nothing to write home about and that guy being, indeed, a douche and a half.
The night only got worse in douchebaggery from there. The people in there were of the frat boy mentality. WE were probably the oldest people in there, save for the guy who looked like ernest hemmingway's slightly younger brother and the token africans bathroom attendant who I automatically hate, cause seriously sitting outside a bathroom and cornering you to take a paper towel and pay him a dollar for doing something you could have easily done yourself, then asking if you shit like if you want a stick of gum or to douse yourself in jacour noir and smell like trash.
highlights include me and scott laughing at some kid who looked like he just came from his own bar mitzvah, some dude wearing combat boots, ripped to shit levis, a flannel shirt with matching bow tie and a suit vest hitting on some girl, losers line dancing to Santeria by Sublime and the worlds worst DJ. I acutally started yelling at him that he sucks and I hope he goes to hell. Seriously, he was playing What's my Age Again by Blink-182 (strike one) and then started blairing that siren sample every Dj and their half-retarded mother has over and over again like it was late night on Hot 97 with Funk Master Flex (strike two through eleven). One guy said to me "hey, I don't see you up there doing what he's doing." I went off on the guy saying something about how I don't consider some fat kid with his ipod of shitty music he listened to at some state college and a sample box of sound effects downloaded off some my first dj gig website hooked up to a pa system as a dj.
Eventually Scott and I just couldn't take anymore reasons to hate humanity and we left. Scott was a blithering mess and a half. Why? Um, I don't know where to start off. A) He lost his cell phone at the bar. B) he fell backwards on an escalator going up. C) when I stopped to ask a cop for directions to the nearest E line subway, he ran screaming that he didn't want to talk to a cop, then as I was talking to the cop, Scott slipped in the soaking wet rain, in the middle of the street and was laying there. The cop said to me "are you kidding me? is your friend drunk?" I said "no...." and ran to grab Scott before the cop could get to him, carrying (more like dragging) Scott down the street yelling "move your legs if you don't want a ticket for public drunkenenss!" D) when we finally got onto the E and were maybe 2 stops away from the transfer to the A, Scott gets up and runs off the train screaming we're going in the wrong direction and to get off the train. After realizing I wasn't gonna win that argument, I ran off the train after him to drag him back onto the train, but it was too late. What happened next? E) We had to wander up and down the west side highway looking for a cab to take us up to Inwood. 3 guys let us in and then told us they refused to drive us up there, probably thinking we wanted the bad part of teh bronx (which is just about every part of the bronx). I'd have to drag scott out of these cabs cause he refused to get out not understanding anything going on. I finally got some guy and as things went on realized more and more this guy was a crook. First of all, I realized he started taking us the long way and started cursing him out going "I swear to God, if your dumb ass brings us to brooklyn I will murder you" and other variations of that threat. Also, his meter would jump 4 bucks every 30 seconds to a minute. Also, I eventually noticed he didn't have a taxi license in the window to prove he's legit til he saw me staring at all the info he actually did have and slipped something in there thinking I was too drunk to realize.
What pissed me off was a mixture of that whole BS with the cabbie, Scott repeatedly opening the window and letting rain in as he layed there half alive in the back seat and the fact I had to pay this piece of shit 35 dollars (which he kept insisting cash only as I siad to go fuck himself cause I see a credit card machine in the back). Yea. I asked Scott to give me money but he just kept mumbling no as I literally kicked him to get out of the car.
We finally got to Dennis' garage in Inwood, where we parked. His immigrant worker who speaks no English kept yelling at me thinking I had to pay kept yelling in Spanish for me to stop and I just told him to shut up leave me alone and got in the car and took off.
2 seconds after we leave the garage and Scott musters up enough energy to yell at me to stop at the Hess station right before the highway to get food and drinks. I said fine cause I was starving. I gave him 7 bucks to get me chips and a drink. I shoulda went myself cause Scott couldn't get it in his mind that the reason the door wasn't opening the 12 or so times he tried ripping it open was cause you have to order through one of those drive thru-like windows to get what you want. I kept yelling at him from the car to just go to the window but he just kept sitting there yanking on the door and punching it til I said to get back in the car cause the guy was screaming he was gonna call the cops. Here's a photo of Scott trying to finally crawl through the drive-thru slot to get the guy, not to tell him waht we wanted, but to open the door as the guy kept yelling at him:
Eventually I dropped him off and got 2 hours of sleep before having to wake back up. I'm glad I didn't have to do the whole "you're gonna kill me" bit with him that he usuially does when he gets that drunk and thinks i'm going to kill him and dump him in the woods for some fucking reason.
But yea, Friday morning rolled around. I went to my mom's job in the Bronx and passed out in her office for a few hours. Hopped the train to Queens to meet up Romil and try and see the US Open. What ended up happening instead was we got bombed starting at 11am til 5pm there. We were in this expensive restaurant til about 2:30pm drinking and eating, then from then til 5 we wandered the stadium realizing the game was never gonna happen. You meet some weirdos at the US Open it seems. Well, ok, most are of the usual snobish persuasion (especially since we had those expensive court side seats that snobs are usually the only ones to buy up). But then there was this one guy wearing a miami dolphins hat and shirt with a cooperstown windbreaker. As he wouldn't leave the two of us alone more and more, it dawned upon me that he was some beyond crazy sports nut. Was he a Dolphins fan? No. Why was he wearing Dolphins hat and shirt? Cause the Williams sisters live in Florida and I'm pretty sure Serena has some stakes in the Dolphins franchise. Yea, he's one of those people that'll hear oh, so and so likes such and such. Lemme do something to get their attention with said thing they like. You know? like hot girl likes a band. you wear a shirt with that band's logo on it next time you know you're gonna see her, stupid conversaion pops up, bla bla bla. Did I mention not only did this guy (his name was Jeff something or other) live in Pittsburg, but he frequented to Dallas to catch Cowboys home games, he was a Canadians fan (who the fuck like the Canadians besides the damn idiots from that part of Canada that like hockey?), he claims to have been to over 1,000 Bob Dylan concerts all across America and he claims to hold the most innings pitched at some fucking special game held at cooperstown once a year between old farts and retired baseball hall of famers. Good for him and his weird ass.
Yea, whatever. We texted Dan and met him up at Union Bar for drinks. after ordering a basket of french fries to fill my stomache and get some patron cafe to wake me up, we ordered another round, that turned into the hot bartender we like giving us round after round of free shots. We became filled with more booze and a wild streak. It started on the subway. Me and Dan just kept yelling "PAY YO FARE!" over and over ala this one scene from Mo Money. Hilarity took it a step up when we realized 3 times we missed the stop we needed. The last time we got off the right train stop, Dan just goes and slaps some random dude right on the ass and then gave him a thumbs up, scaring the crap out of the guy.
We got to the bar and just started shouting. We grabbed a back table and kept yelling at the dykey waitress to give us drinks and to tell the dj to "play some fucking 80s music." haaa. Booze kept flying. My tab went from 30 bucks to 80 bucks after ordering rounds of shots left and right in an order or two. I kept mocking some dude with a giant dookie chain that was the stereotypical "yea, i grunt while i get my swell on at the gym" kinda douche.a midget walked in and gave me a high five later on (I guess he didn't see me laughing my ass off watching him just shove people out of the way on the dance floor to get to the bar). I don't even remember why. I think he said I was hilarious or something. I Can't blame him, right?
Romil eventually left us cause A) He had to catch the last ferry back to Jersey before it was too late and B)Cause by that point, me and Dan were being the biggest assholes to anything that would give us the time of day. I wish I could remember the shit said to girls in that place. It probably wasn't as epic as those nights us 2 and Scott would just go to the bar and be sloppy messes screaming at people, cursing them out for no reason, but whatever.
We ended up back at Dan's place and I got a ride home from there somehow. My mom had to put up with a very drunk me and lord only knows the shit spewing out of my mouth at that point in the night.
Anywya, yesterday was a stupid street fair outside my office. I hated it. It was raining. I stayed in the office and ignored as much as I could. Tried going back to Turtle Bay to get Scott's phone for him while he was at work. This is why I want to burn that place down (besides all the lowlifes that go there now). First person I dealt with; fat slob bartender who spent about 10 mintues talking to her friends sitting there than serving anyone or even noticing me standing there, making rude sounds at her to get her attention. Then her not knowing shit and rushing me asking her for Scott's phone so she could go back to ignoring everyone but her friends. I left, got pizza and came back. This time I made another girl look for the manager (i was told by fatty the manager would be in by 7 so I came back after 7). This girl was clueless and said it was her 2nd day on the job. Eventually some asshole working there comes up to me asking what I want to drink and I said "I want the cell phone I came here for." He started talking down to me so I started just getting really brash with what I said to him. The whole time this is going down, that fat pig was sitting at the bar, not doing her job at this point, and just shoving chicken fingers in her mouth and not chewing them as she talked to some old drunk guy.
I told Scott that if we get his phone before the Face to Face concert this Thursday, I am calling her a fat pig to her face and then, depending on how enraged/drunk I am, will probably throw a drink or something, thus banning us from ever being allowed back in there (but come to think of it, I've done a lot worse at other bars and am still not banned, so who knows... and did I mention I pissed all over the wall in the bathroom the Thursday night we were there?).
so yea. that's fun had this past weekend for me in a nutshell. I don't know when the next time I'll write in here is since I'm taking a creative writing class (dude wants me to try and publish a 10 to 15 page story for an instant A in his class) and I am also taking a writing for social sciences class with some neo hippie feminist bitch who assigned us to think about writing about a social enviorment. Of course I'm gonna do it on a bar. We're supposed to write about gender roles. i might just post it here if it's funny cause it'll probably end up being "shot girls are the bigest trash in the world and the fact they dress like skanks only further proves my theory that they should be treated like the human garbage they are."
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