Friday, August 5, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Jay sets the bar a fire
As you may or may not know by now I am a Mexican food fanatic, and the best part of eating Mexican is 90% of the time their margaritas are killer.
One summer I visited my buddy TK in Va. Beach for about 2mon’s and he had an “authentic” Mexican joint like 5 blocks down. So needless to say the folks that run this joint and I became close..
Now this joint isn’t the classiest of joints around but they did have good food. Traditionally it was more of a restaurant than a bar although it did have a bar in it. Now then, as odd at it seems the norm consisted of TK and I sitting at a table eating/drinking, then at times depending on what the bar scene looked like, motivating bar-ward after the meals were finished.
This particular day however I was not real hungry so I just ordered my usual, which was a pitcher of margarita, rim of the pitcher salted. I know this may confuse you. “Why salt the rim of the pitcher?” you may be asking. Well kids, it is because that’s how I roll. I don’t have time to screw around with filling those pansy martini looking glasses. No sir, I go straight to the source, I shoot it straight from the pitcher. (After the first week of me doing this they actually bought some of those super long straws like 7-11 has. Kind of funny.)
Now, these Mexican dood’s loved me. I could tell them the most vulgar shit right in front of their customers as they wait on tables an they never got mad. The customers however, well, fuck them.
About two pitchers into this evening It’s time to make my first trip to el grande pisser. As I walk in I immediately notice a mop bucket. Now to most people this would mean nothing and they would walk on past thinking nothing of it. Well, me to, this time around. However I did get a good chuckle as I wandered to the stall. If you have already read my story “Siwel vs. the mop bucket” (and you should have being it was a few stories before this one) then you know what I am getting at.
I make my way back to our table and sit down with a crooked grin on my face. TK just gives me that “oh god, what did you do now” look. Second pitcher gone an I see my third on it’s way. (I don’t even have to order at this place they just bring them to me until I tell them to stop). Our waiter Paco (no clue what his real name is) stops and asks TK if he needs anything. Immediately I interrupt to tell our waiter about the mop bucket in the bathroom and why he should remove it. He is concerned that the presence of it in the bathroom upsets me. I assure him it is nothing of the sort, and he laughs and asks why it is that it be removed so promptly..
As I begin my story 2 other waiters hear the laughter erupting from not only the waiter but TK as well. Apparently TK had never heard the mop bucket story.
(incase you skipped my previous mop bucket story I will tell you, in short, it involves an unattended mop bucket in a bar bathroom and me taking a massive jager dump in it)
There are 2 tables within ear-shot of me and I am making no effort to be quiet. Mortified by this story two old people who were seated by my table get up and walk out.
No shit.
I guess casual talk about jagermeister giving you the ass-piss was just too much for them to handle while they tried to decide what to order for dinner.
Well fuck them.
Third pitcher is 1/3 in the books when it is decided that TK and I should have Paco top our pitchers off with tequila. (Great idea!). He looks and kind of laughs at us as he takes our pitchers off to the bar. The other table beside of us who did not leave when the mop bucket story took place sees that we are well on our way of becoming shit-holed and apparently they want no part of it as they grab their plates and head to the bar. Ha, up tight pricks anyhow. (I couldn’t wait for an opportunity to go talk to them).
Paco has returned with our pitchers and is laughing about the people who were once a table over from me. Apparently they told him their reason for relocation was due to my colorful language and my less than gentlemanly like conduct. Fuck them, we have two pitchers of supercharged margarita’s to drink.
As we look down at these two pitchers of heartburn in the making TK say’s two words which seals the fate of Jay checking out for the evening and my alter ego Siwel making his grand appearance. Those two words were “let’s race”.
Now I don’t know if you have ever tried to chug a pitcher of margarita. Most of what our society considers to be “normal” people have never tried it nor have they even thought of it, or considered it to be a good idea.
Fuck them, I am no normal mortal man.
I accept this challenge and I shall come out as the victor even if it kills me.
I stand up on my chair to announce this challenge to the entire establishment.
Game on.
3/4 of the way into this pitcher I am spent. I sit it down, no longer can I hang.
TK sits his down as well and is glad to see he lasted just slightly longer than I. He is an asshole. The remainder of the two pitchers get drank at a slightly slower pace and I ask for the check.
We are not leaving. Oh no, no, no.
Earlier in the day it was agreed that I would buy dinner that night and TK would pick up the tab on our boozing adventure after. I pay Paco and to the bar we head.
You can just imagine how excited the two people who had left their table to go sit at the bar and eat were when they seen that TK and I were heading in their direction. (By this time I have reached shit-holed drunk. Siwel is standing dormant waiting to step in).
In need of something to chase all of this sour mix and tequila down I order a 32oz bud light. Yea I know, but it’s really all they had on tap that was what I considered drinkable.
I take a few drinks and notice the couple at the bar trying their hardest to pretend that I do not exist.
This does two things.
1. It pisses me off, and
2. It adds fuel to my fire.
Beer is not going to do the trick.
If I am going to really piss these people off I am going to need the help of my alter ego. Hard liquor here we come.
I slam down the rest of my beer as fast as a human being possibly can and start yelling incoherent shit to the bartender. He laughs as he walks over to ask what it is I am in need of. I point to the couple and say “GET ME, MY BUDDY, AND THOSE TWO FUCKERS OVER THERE A ROUND OF FLAMING DR. PEPPERS.”
Instantly the couple at the bar are once again mortified by not only my language but now for the fact that I am fully acknowledging their existence and want to interact with them.
(Ladies and gentlemen, Jay has left the building. Siwel has arrived)
The bartender has not the slightest idea what in the hell a flaming Dr. Pepper is, how to make it, or if I’m just pulling this out of my ass which I have been known to do at time. I assure him it is indeed real and offer my assistance in helping him make them.
I have 4 pint glasses out. The couple at the bar both notice this and make their opinions clear that they want no part of this drink but “Thank you anyhow”.
Yea well fuck them, I will make 4 and they can watch TK and I do them.
Apparently as I was pouring the 151 atop the shot glasses I spilt some of it, ok, quite a bit of it onto the bar. Ah well, no big deal.
Now the traditional way of doing this is to take a mouthful of 151 and blow it out into a flaming lighter/match but the last time I tried that my hand was left bare and slightly scorched, so I opted for the other method which was just lighting the glasses individually.
This is when disaster strikes.
Remember that spilt 151 I was telling you about? Well perhaps I, or the bartender should have cleaned this up before deciding to take part in a fiery magic show.
Poof.
There we are, the bar is now on fire.
Instantly I fall into a fit of raging laughter. This is the absolute funniest shit I have ever seen at this point. The couple who were at bar run in terror as the 151 burns off the top of the bar.
A few seconds later the fire is out but TK, the bartender and I are still standing there in shock-and-awe laughing our asses off.
It is then decided that I should not be in charge of anything flammable.
I loudly and violently dispute this decision repeatedly but am overthrown by a two to one vote. I am displeased at this outcome but my attention is quickly diverted to another round of Dr. Pepper.
The couple that was at the bar is now at the other end of the joint talking to their previous waiter demanding their check. They were so scared by my fiery performance that they refuse to even go back to the bar to finish their meals.
This gives me a sense of fulfillment that you just cant buy.
How many people do you know that are able to go into a public place and unintentionally (Sort of) scare the absolute hell out of a person so bad that they leave without finishing their meal or whatever their intent was for being there?
I make an announcement to the bar explaining this act and order more Dr Peppers.
I rule.
One summer I visited my buddy TK in Va. Beach for about 2mon’s and he had an “authentic” Mexican joint like 5 blocks down. So needless to say the folks that run this joint and I became close..
Now this joint isn’t the classiest of joints around but they did have good food. Traditionally it was more of a restaurant than a bar although it did have a bar in it. Now then, as odd at it seems the norm consisted of TK and I sitting at a table eating/drinking, then at times depending on what the bar scene looked like, motivating bar-ward after the meals were finished.
This particular day however I was not real hungry so I just ordered my usual, which was a pitcher of margarita, rim of the pitcher salted. I know this may confuse you. “Why salt the rim of the pitcher?” you may be asking. Well kids, it is because that’s how I roll. I don’t have time to screw around with filling those pansy martini looking glasses. No sir, I go straight to the source, I shoot it straight from the pitcher. (After the first week of me doing this they actually bought some of those super long straws like 7-11 has. Kind of funny.)
Now, these Mexican dood’s loved me. I could tell them the most vulgar shit right in front of their customers as they wait on tables an they never got mad. The customers however, well, fuck them.
About two pitchers into this evening It’s time to make my first trip to el grande pisser. As I walk in I immediately notice a mop bucket. Now to most people this would mean nothing and they would walk on past thinking nothing of it. Well, me to, this time around. However I did get a good chuckle as I wandered to the stall. If you have already read my story “Siwel vs. the mop bucket” (and you should have being it was a few stories before this one) then you know what I am getting at.
I make my way back to our table and sit down with a crooked grin on my face. TK just gives me that “oh god, what did you do now” look. Second pitcher gone an I see my third on it’s way. (I don’t even have to order at this place they just bring them to me until I tell them to stop). Our waiter Paco (no clue what his real name is) stops and asks TK if he needs anything. Immediately I interrupt to tell our waiter about the mop bucket in the bathroom and why he should remove it. He is concerned that the presence of it in the bathroom upsets me. I assure him it is nothing of the sort, and he laughs and asks why it is that it be removed so promptly..
As I begin my story 2 other waiters hear the laughter erupting from not only the waiter but TK as well. Apparently TK had never heard the mop bucket story.
(incase you skipped my previous mop bucket story I will tell you, in short, it involves an unattended mop bucket in a bar bathroom and me taking a massive jager dump in it)
There are 2 tables within ear-shot of me and I am making no effort to be quiet. Mortified by this story two old people who were seated by my table get up and walk out.
No shit.
I guess casual talk about jagermeister giving you the ass-piss was just too much for them to handle while they tried to decide what to order for dinner.
Well fuck them.
Third pitcher is 1/3 in the books when it is decided that TK and I should have Paco top our pitchers off with tequila. (Great idea!). He looks and kind of laughs at us as he takes our pitchers off to the bar. The other table beside of us who did not leave when the mop bucket story took place sees that we are well on our way of becoming shit-holed and apparently they want no part of it as they grab their plates and head to the bar. Ha, up tight pricks anyhow. (I couldn’t wait for an opportunity to go talk to them).
Paco has returned with our pitchers and is laughing about the people who were once a table over from me. Apparently they told him their reason for relocation was due to my colorful language and my less than gentlemanly like conduct. Fuck them, we have two pitchers of supercharged margarita’s to drink.
As we look down at these two pitchers of heartburn in the making TK say’s two words which seals the fate of Jay checking out for the evening and my alter ego Siwel making his grand appearance. Those two words were “let’s race”.
Now I don’t know if you have ever tried to chug a pitcher of margarita. Most of what our society considers to be “normal” people have never tried it nor have they even thought of it, or considered it to be a good idea.
Fuck them, I am no normal mortal man.
I accept this challenge and I shall come out as the victor even if it kills me.
I stand up on my chair to announce this challenge to the entire establishment.
Game on.
3/4 of the way into this pitcher I am spent. I sit it down, no longer can I hang.
TK sits his down as well and is glad to see he lasted just slightly longer than I. He is an asshole. The remainder of the two pitchers get drank at a slightly slower pace and I ask for the check.
We are not leaving. Oh no, no, no.
Earlier in the day it was agreed that I would buy dinner that night and TK would pick up the tab on our boozing adventure after. I pay Paco and to the bar we head.
You can just imagine how excited the two people who had left their table to go sit at the bar and eat were when they seen that TK and I were heading in their direction. (By this time I have reached shit-holed drunk. Siwel is standing dormant waiting to step in).
In need of something to chase all of this sour mix and tequila down I order a 32oz bud light. Yea I know, but it’s really all they had on tap that was what I considered drinkable.
I take a few drinks and notice the couple at the bar trying their hardest to pretend that I do not exist.
This does two things.
1. It pisses me off, and
2. It adds fuel to my fire.
Beer is not going to do the trick.
If I am going to really piss these people off I am going to need the help of my alter ego. Hard liquor here we come.
I slam down the rest of my beer as fast as a human being possibly can and start yelling incoherent shit to the bartender. He laughs as he walks over to ask what it is I am in need of. I point to the couple and say “GET ME, MY BUDDY, AND THOSE TWO FUCKERS OVER THERE A ROUND OF FLAMING DR. PEPPERS.”
Instantly the couple at the bar are once again mortified by not only my language but now for the fact that I am fully acknowledging their existence and want to interact with them.
(Ladies and gentlemen, Jay has left the building. Siwel has arrived)
The bartender has not the slightest idea what in the hell a flaming Dr. Pepper is, how to make it, or if I’m just pulling this out of my ass which I have been known to do at time. I assure him it is indeed real and offer my assistance in helping him make them.
I have 4 pint glasses out. The couple at the bar both notice this and make their opinions clear that they want no part of this drink but “Thank you anyhow”.
Yea well fuck them, I will make 4 and they can watch TK and I do them.
Apparently as I was pouring the 151 atop the shot glasses I spilt some of it, ok, quite a bit of it onto the bar. Ah well, no big deal.
Now the traditional way of doing this is to take a mouthful of 151 and blow it out into a flaming lighter/match but the last time I tried that my hand was left bare and slightly scorched, so I opted for the other method which was just lighting the glasses individually.
This is when disaster strikes.
Remember that spilt 151 I was telling you about? Well perhaps I, or the bartender should have cleaned this up before deciding to take part in a fiery magic show.
Poof.
There we are, the bar is now on fire.
Instantly I fall into a fit of raging laughter. This is the absolute funniest shit I have ever seen at this point. The couple who were at bar run in terror as the 151 burns off the top of the bar.
A few seconds later the fire is out but TK, the bartender and I are still standing there in shock-and-awe laughing our asses off.
It is then decided that I should not be in charge of anything flammable.
I loudly and violently dispute this decision repeatedly but am overthrown by a two to one vote. I am displeased at this outcome but my attention is quickly diverted to another round of Dr. Pepper.
The couple that was at the bar is now at the other end of the joint talking to their previous waiter demanding their check. They were so scared by my fiery performance that they refuse to even go back to the bar to finish their meals.
This gives me a sense of fulfillment that you just cant buy.
How many people do you know that are able to go into a public place and unintentionally (Sort of) scare the absolute hell out of a person so bad that they leave without finishing their meal or whatever their intent was for being there?
I make an announcement to the bar explaining this act and order more Dr Peppers.
I rule.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
The now famous ski trip story
Siwel takes on the slopes
In a drunken haze one night at a local bar, which bar it was kind of evades me, me and a few of my fellow drunkard’s decided what a smash up idea going on a ski trip would be. Now keep in mind yea I used to snowboard a lot when I was younger but I’m not younger. The older you get it seems, the longer it take’s one to heal from injury. Keeping that in mind, but totally ignoring it, we set out to make some reservations.
Now if you will remember right my last ski trip I tried to kill myself without having ever left the lodge/bar. This is also the event in my head which keep’s reminding me of how long pain now seems to last. The memory was then pushed to the side once I remembered how easily I could obtain pain medication since I was currently sleeping with a doctors daughter. With the fear of once again being severely hurt an non able to walk now gone.. GAME ON!
Over the next few weeks our group of willing participant’s grew rather rapidly and largely. To this day I still probably could not tell you how many people went but I do know it was a lot more than what we were supposed to have in our humble lodge.
Day 1.
In a drunken haze I awaken to my alarm going off.
GAB is supposed to be at my pad around 7am so we can get this show on the road. Knowing this I ponder why I set my alarm for 5am. Almost instantly it hit’s me, I had not done my laundry or packed anything yesterday because it was more important to go get drunk. I set my alarm early so that I may get this feat accomplished. No more than thirty seconds later I am back asleep. My next alarm would come at somewhere around 7:15am in the form of GAB standing above my bed beating me with a pillow yelling “get up you drunk moron”.
I sit up in bed as GAB wanders off to “work the porcelain”.
The moment my feet hit the floor reality strikes. I have about 5 minutes until GAB is done destroying my bathroom. That gives me 5 minutes to get packed. As I rummage through my pile of clothes on the floor I find the semi-clean ones and start stuffing my bag. As I finish up GAB walks in with a “I just peeled the wallpaper off of your walls” look on his face. I grab my ski jacket an my board an off we go.
As I make my way to the Denali I chuckle a little bit as I notice my car parked half on the sidewalk and half in the yard. Wow, it must have been a good night.
Now our buddy Jp was supposed to roll with us but in my frantic run to assemble clothes and such I had forgotten all about him riding with us. As I stumble along to the Denali I open the rear gate and throw my stuff in the back. I make my way to the front and hop in. Immediately I notice Jp in the back passed out cold. It was then that I remembered around 1am that morning when I decided to leave the bar Jp was still there putting down shots and buying drinks for a table of whores.
After an hour or so of attempting to sleep while GAB has listened to every cd he has at a volume level that would deafen people 3 counties over I decided it was time to throw in the towel on getting some rest and locate the cooler. I yell in an attempt to awaken Jp as he is the closest to it but no success. How could he have slept through all of this? After a good beating he awoke with a puzzled where in the hell am I look on his face. As soon as he gathered his thoughts he arose and reached in the back to hand me a cold beverage as well as taking one for himself. This is where Day 1 starts to go downhill.
We make it to check-in and get the keys to our weekend palace.
A few phone calls later the idiot’s arrive. I know this because the level of drunken intensity rises to a new level that had never been reached before. Well, at least not at 11am that is. It seems that I was not the only one riding shotgun who decided to start the drunken festivities early on the car ride here. What can I say, great minds think alike.
We quickly split off into 2 groups. Group 1 consisted of those who are excited about hitting the slopes. Group 2 consisted of those who are excited to hit the lodge and drink. Knowing that we would all wind up at the lodge at some point in time no one disputed this and we set off for our daily adventure. I know what you are thinking, did I join Group 1 or did I join Group 2? Well I did bring my board, what do you think I did? Damn right, I joined Group 2 at the lodge.
After a few hours of nursing a few beers here and there the other group arrives. By this time everyone is hungry, no one is drunk yet, but we are all ready to accomplish both in record time. The lodge is made up of mainly us, only a few random up-tight types are spread throughout the place. They immediately notice the noise level raise as our group size increases. They look displeased.
I wont go into great detail on the lodge scene for Day 1 as it really was nothing out of the ordinary. Excessive drinking, verbal abuse, dancing on tables, and failed attempts at trying to fornicate with some locals. You know, the usual.
We all disperse back to our palace as we have the fridge full of beer, freezer full of liquor, a hot tub, and a couple local girls with us who appeared to have low self-esteem. By this point we are all pretty well drunk, but not “shit holed” drunk yet. We wander into the palace and I grab me a beer while everyone else grabs the beverage of their liking. GAB takes one of the locals to the hot tub while the rest of us are sitting around watching tv and bullshitting. I tell my tale of the last ski trip I took part in, and how Super-D took a header trying to snowboard off of the roof. Little did I know this would for some reason inspire Jp’s attempt to pull off the stunt that Super-D failed at.
I don’t know how much you know about snowboards, or hot tubs for that matter, but let me tell you this. You can’t successfully ride a snowboard bare foot, and hot tubs are only a few feet deep. Now with that in mind let me direct you to GAB who was dripping wet standing in his boxers yelling for us to come outside. We make our way out to see nothing more than the local standing there wet, in her panties, with no top on. Instantly we are wondering why GAB has asked us to view this, but ask no questions. It then became obvious that the local is not why he had called us outside rather it was the fact that Jp was on the roof, holding his board, bellowing out something about “wipeout”. About that time he throws his board down, jumps on it, it slips out from under him instantaneously and glides off of the roof and into the hot tub. Jp rolls off of the roof lands on the porch. Dumb ass.
The rest of the night involved the usual chatter and talk about how awesome it would have been had Jp pulled his stunt off. Jp is now the hero of the palace, he is also the drunk idiot of the palace, I am now getting no attention as all talk is of Jp and his fearless act. This displeases me.
Day 2.
This day starts out at the crack of oh, 10am.
I decide instead of drinking myself into a coma perhaps I should actually hit the half pipe. I yell at GAB and he agrees. Off we go. A few hours and a few biffs later we are instant hits on the half pipe. I don’t know if it was the sick stunts we were trying or the way in which we failed miserably doing them that caught the attention of many spectators but either way we had all eyes on us. This brings us to beer time to the lodge and the hunt for the rest of our group. By now it’s around 1pm and we locate some of the group skiing while the rest are in the lodge. I take a seat at the bar and order us a round of beer and jager bombs. This gets the party started.
I have entered the state of drunk where I am now making friends with everyone. I am wandering around the lodge talking to everyone whether they know me or even if they want to talk to me or not. The conversation turns to Jp’s stunt from the night before which impresses some locals. Jp is now the center of attention once again and an instant hit with a group of girls who had somehow joined our party. It is obvious to me that I am no longer the group idiot. This displeases me a great deal.
As I ponder outside a lodge window I notice the barn where they keep the staffs snowmobiles. It has a snow drift up the side to the roof. Instantaneously genius strikes. I make an announcement that I am going on one last run then back to the lodge to continue my drunken escapade. A few people from the group find this as a good idea as well. We do a round of flaming dr. peppers in cheers to this idea.
We make our way to the lifts and up the hill. I look down wondering how long it will take me to heal up from this event. Instantly the jager starts talking back to me telling me that I need not worry about healing for I shall not get hurt. I realize how true this is and begin my descent down the slope. The lodge is at the end of the slope of my choosing which makes perfect sense being the barn is a few hundred feet away from the lodge. As I make my break creating a path to the barn it hits me. What if the drift going up the side of the barn is soft snow? Am I going to just go through it and smack into the side of the barn? Oh well too late to back out now. Swoop, I hit it. Up the drift, onto the roof, and off, way off of the roof I go. My landing well, sucked. I landed it or so I thought. Then I took a nice tumble a time or twelve end over end.
I arise from the ground wondering what in the hell just happened and why in the hell I did it. I shake my head a few times and start my walk to the lodge. Instantly I notice the rather large group of people at the end of the slope who had witnessed my spectacular event. I walk through the group getting pats on the back, a lot of compliments on how insanely stupid I am, and the usual things that I have become accustom to hearing. I make my way into the lodge trying to hide the fact that I can barely walk where most of my group had witnessed the event. They are buying me shots, locals are buying me shots, I am instantly the complete center of attention. This pleases me to no end and to celebrate this I get drunk – er.
In a drunken haze one night at a local bar, which bar it was kind of evades me, me and a few of my fellow drunkard’s decided what a smash up idea going on a ski trip would be. Now keep in mind yea I used to snowboard a lot when I was younger but I’m not younger. The older you get it seems, the longer it take’s one to heal from injury. Keeping that in mind, but totally ignoring it, we set out to make some reservations.
Now if you will remember right my last ski trip I tried to kill myself without having ever left the lodge/bar. This is also the event in my head which keep’s reminding me of how long pain now seems to last. The memory was then pushed to the side once I remembered how easily I could obtain pain medication since I was currently sleeping with a doctors daughter. With the fear of once again being severely hurt an non able to walk now gone.. GAME ON!
Over the next few weeks our group of willing participant’s grew rather rapidly and largely. To this day I still probably could not tell you how many people went but I do know it was a lot more than what we were supposed to have in our humble lodge.
Day 1.
In a drunken haze I awaken to my alarm going off.
GAB is supposed to be at my pad around 7am so we can get this show on the road. Knowing this I ponder why I set my alarm for 5am. Almost instantly it hit’s me, I had not done my laundry or packed anything yesterday because it was more important to go get drunk. I set my alarm early so that I may get this feat accomplished. No more than thirty seconds later I am back asleep. My next alarm would come at somewhere around 7:15am in the form of GAB standing above my bed beating me with a pillow yelling “get up you drunk moron”.
I sit up in bed as GAB wanders off to “work the porcelain”.
The moment my feet hit the floor reality strikes. I have about 5 minutes until GAB is done destroying my bathroom. That gives me 5 minutes to get packed. As I rummage through my pile of clothes on the floor I find the semi-clean ones and start stuffing my bag. As I finish up GAB walks in with a “I just peeled the wallpaper off of your walls” look on his face. I grab my ski jacket an my board an off we go.
As I make my way to the Denali I chuckle a little bit as I notice my car parked half on the sidewalk and half in the yard. Wow, it must have been a good night.
Now our buddy Jp was supposed to roll with us but in my frantic run to assemble clothes and such I had forgotten all about him riding with us. As I stumble along to the Denali I open the rear gate and throw my stuff in the back. I make my way to the front and hop in. Immediately I notice Jp in the back passed out cold. It was then that I remembered around 1am that morning when I decided to leave the bar Jp was still there putting down shots and buying drinks for a table of whores.
After an hour or so of attempting to sleep while GAB has listened to every cd he has at a volume level that would deafen people 3 counties over I decided it was time to throw in the towel on getting some rest and locate the cooler. I yell in an attempt to awaken Jp as he is the closest to it but no success. How could he have slept through all of this? After a good beating he awoke with a puzzled where in the hell am I look on his face. As soon as he gathered his thoughts he arose and reached in the back to hand me a cold beverage as well as taking one for himself. This is where Day 1 starts to go downhill.
We make it to check-in and get the keys to our weekend palace.
A few phone calls later the idiot’s arrive. I know this because the level of drunken intensity rises to a new level that had never been reached before. Well, at least not at 11am that is. It seems that I was not the only one riding shotgun who decided to start the drunken festivities early on the car ride here. What can I say, great minds think alike.
We quickly split off into 2 groups. Group 1 consisted of those who are excited about hitting the slopes. Group 2 consisted of those who are excited to hit the lodge and drink. Knowing that we would all wind up at the lodge at some point in time no one disputed this and we set off for our daily adventure. I know what you are thinking, did I join Group 1 or did I join Group 2? Well I did bring my board, what do you think I did? Damn right, I joined Group 2 at the lodge.
After a few hours of nursing a few beers here and there the other group arrives. By this time everyone is hungry, no one is drunk yet, but we are all ready to accomplish both in record time. The lodge is made up of mainly us, only a few random up-tight types are spread throughout the place. They immediately notice the noise level raise as our group size increases. They look displeased.
I wont go into great detail on the lodge scene for Day 1 as it really was nothing out of the ordinary. Excessive drinking, verbal abuse, dancing on tables, and failed attempts at trying to fornicate with some locals. You know, the usual.
We all disperse back to our palace as we have the fridge full of beer, freezer full of liquor, a hot tub, and a couple local girls with us who appeared to have low self-esteem. By this point we are all pretty well drunk, but not “shit holed” drunk yet. We wander into the palace and I grab me a beer while everyone else grabs the beverage of their liking. GAB takes one of the locals to the hot tub while the rest of us are sitting around watching tv and bullshitting. I tell my tale of the last ski trip I took part in, and how Super-D took a header trying to snowboard off of the roof. Little did I know this would for some reason inspire Jp’s attempt to pull off the stunt that Super-D failed at.
I don’t know how much you know about snowboards, or hot tubs for that matter, but let me tell you this. You can’t successfully ride a snowboard bare foot, and hot tubs are only a few feet deep. Now with that in mind let me direct you to GAB who was dripping wet standing in his boxers yelling for us to come outside. We make our way out to see nothing more than the local standing there wet, in her panties, with no top on. Instantly we are wondering why GAB has asked us to view this, but ask no questions. It then became obvious that the local is not why he had called us outside rather it was the fact that Jp was on the roof, holding his board, bellowing out something about “wipeout”. About that time he throws his board down, jumps on it, it slips out from under him instantaneously and glides off of the roof and into the hot tub. Jp rolls off of the roof lands on the porch. Dumb ass.
The rest of the night involved the usual chatter and talk about how awesome it would have been had Jp pulled his stunt off. Jp is now the hero of the palace, he is also the drunk idiot of the palace, I am now getting no attention as all talk is of Jp and his fearless act. This displeases me.
Day 2.
This day starts out at the crack of oh, 10am.
I decide instead of drinking myself into a coma perhaps I should actually hit the half pipe. I yell at GAB and he agrees. Off we go. A few hours and a few biffs later we are instant hits on the half pipe. I don’t know if it was the sick stunts we were trying or the way in which we failed miserably doing them that caught the attention of many spectators but either way we had all eyes on us. This brings us to beer time to the lodge and the hunt for the rest of our group. By now it’s around 1pm and we locate some of the group skiing while the rest are in the lodge. I take a seat at the bar and order us a round of beer and jager bombs. This gets the party started.
I have entered the state of drunk where I am now making friends with everyone. I am wandering around the lodge talking to everyone whether they know me or even if they want to talk to me or not. The conversation turns to Jp’s stunt from the night before which impresses some locals. Jp is now the center of attention once again and an instant hit with a group of girls who had somehow joined our party. It is obvious to me that I am no longer the group idiot. This displeases me a great deal.
As I ponder outside a lodge window I notice the barn where they keep the staffs snowmobiles. It has a snow drift up the side to the roof. Instantaneously genius strikes. I make an announcement that I am going on one last run then back to the lodge to continue my drunken escapade. A few people from the group find this as a good idea as well. We do a round of flaming dr. peppers in cheers to this idea.
We make our way to the lifts and up the hill. I look down wondering how long it will take me to heal up from this event. Instantly the jager starts talking back to me telling me that I need not worry about healing for I shall not get hurt. I realize how true this is and begin my descent down the slope. The lodge is at the end of the slope of my choosing which makes perfect sense being the barn is a few hundred feet away from the lodge. As I make my break creating a path to the barn it hits me. What if the drift going up the side of the barn is soft snow? Am I going to just go through it and smack into the side of the barn? Oh well too late to back out now. Swoop, I hit it. Up the drift, onto the roof, and off, way off of the roof I go. My landing well, sucked. I landed it or so I thought. Then I took a nice tumble a time or twelve end over end.
I arise from the ground wondering what in the hell just happened and why in the hell I did it. I shake my head a few times and start my walk to the lodge. Instantly I notice the rather large group of people at the end of the slope who had witnessed my spectacular event. I walk through the group getting pats on the back, a lot of compliments on how insanely stupid I am, and the usual things that I have become accustom to hearing. I make my way into the lodge trying to hide the fact that I can barely walk where most of my group had witnessed the event. They are buying me shots, locals are buying me shots, I am instantly the complete center of attention. This pleases me to no end and to celebrate this I get drunk – er.
I'm such a salesman
I should tell you that I never keep a vehicle for more than a few months. I think it’s because of some OCD involving cars that I have. Who knows?
Anyhow I sold this shitpile 92’ Camaro this morning and just had to write this story down after it unfolded before I forgot parts of it.
(The "Bulliten Board" is a locally circulated rag which features things for sale, ect.)
I put my redneck wagon Camaro in the bulliten, I was sick of driving it and really sick of having to park it in the yard for lack of parking. Forgetting what kind of moron's you come in contact with in the bulliten the phonecall's start to roll in at about 3pm yesterday, which is the day the bulliten comes out. I get calls about it up until 10pm which is when my phone went on silent. I wasent going to bed or anything like that, I just didnt want the rest of my night of downloading music, watching porn, blogging, and bitching about random shit on forum's to be disturbed by these type's.
Basically everyone who called me I told my address an said to come by in the morning hours as I would be home most of the day until evening. 8am my phone rings, it's some redneck..
redneck; uh yea i talked to yew bout dat camaro' yew have in da bulliten
jay; uhm, yea.. dood im in bed
redneck; oh, well ima outside here lookin at it
jay; well its unlocked, go ahead an check it out but im sleeping, come back in an hour
redneck; uhhh allrighty
Ok, now, I figured I had done pissed this guy off an wouldnt be seeing him again. Did not really care either tho.. It was early, I was tired. As soon as I retreat back to my next attempt of REM sleep my phone rings again. This time it's some dood who I guess I also talked to last night around 10pm. He says he wants to come look at it, I say no prob stop by in an hour.
About 9am my phone rings, I am displeased.
It's the redneck and he is back. He takes it for a drive, offer's me $1,000 for it which is $200 under my asking price. I only wanted $1,000 which is why I put it in there for more. Ppl are fu$%in jew's. I agree to the price and him an his "ol' lady" leave to go to the bank.
2min later my phone rings, it's guy #2 and he is outside.
I walk out an talk to him, he is drinking a beer, at 9am.
I immediately like this guy.
He looks it over an I inform him of the ppl who had just left to go to the bank. He tells me he would like to have it but it's no big deal. Instantly the lightbulb above my head turns on.
me; dood, wana make an easy $100?
dood; uhh, ok, is it legal?
me; ha yea, when these ppl come back just tell them you want the car an are willin to give me $1,100 for it
dood; ok but what if they say fine he can have it? Honestly I was going to offer you $800 it’s all I got.
me; no problem, if that happens just turn to me an ask if ill take a check, I will say no, then you get upset an ramble off.
dood; welp *takes a swig of beer* allrighty
The redneck re-arrives, this is going to be sweet.
redneck; welp i got your money son
me; well this dood just showed up an i told him you went to the bank. He offered me $100 more
redneck; i thought we had a deal son?
me; deal? title an keys are in my hand, the money isnt.
redneck; hmm, well i sure do like this here car. i dont think its right but I can give you the $1,200 yousa askin but ima have go'n back to the bank
me; ok dood.
So this guy leaves to go back to the bank. Me an guy #2 are standing on the porch laughing our asses off.
He offers me a beer. I do not decline.
After a few minute's of bullshitting the redneck is back.
redneck; uh whats'a dat feller doin still here?
me; ah he was just waitin to make sure you did come back with the money
redneck; yup got er' right here
me; aight dood *counts it out* cool, here's your title/keys/bill of sale
redneck; ok ima have the ol' lady follow me to the barn
me; uh, you not gona put license on that fudge thing?
redneck; nope, dont reckon i am
me; haha ok dood, dont call me from jail
They leave.
Me an guy #2 are laughing our asses off. He says it's time for him to leave and any fear he has ever had of being pulled over is now curbed due to this idiot driving around tag-less.
I hand him his $100 an he thanks me. I thank him for the beer, an he takes off to his truck.
Im an asshole.
Anyhow I sold this shitpile 92’ Camaro this morning and just had to write this story down after it unfolded before I forgot parts of it.
(The "Bulliten Board" is a locally circulated rag which features things for sale, ect.)
I put my redneck wagon Camaro in the bulliten, I was sick of driving it and really sick of having to park it in the yard for lack of parking. Forgetting what kind of moron's you come in contact with in the bulliten the phonecall's start to roll in at about 3pm yesterday, which is the day the bulliten comes out. I get calls about it up until 10pm which is when my phone went on silent. I wasent going to bed or anything like that, I just didnt want the rest of my night of downloading music, watching porn, blogging, and bitching about random shit on forum's to be disturbed by these type's.
Basically everyone who called me I told my address an said to come by in the morning hours as I would be home most of the day until evening. 8am my phone rings, it's some redneck..
redneck; uh yea i talked to yew bout dat camaro' yew have in da bulliten
jay; uhm, yea.. dood im in bed
redneck; oh, well ima outside here lookin at it
jay; well its unlocked, go ahead an check it out but im sleeping, come back in an hour
redneck; uhhh allrighty
Ok, now, I figured I had done pissed this guy off an wouldnt be seeing him again. Did not really care either tho.. It was early, I was tired. As soon as I retreat back to my next attempt of REM sleep my phone rings again. This time it's some dood who I guess I also talked to last night around 10pm. He says he wants to come look at it, I say no prob stop by in an hour.
About 9am my phone rings, I am displeased.
It's the redneck and he is back. He takes it for a drive, offer's me $1,000 for it which is $200 under my asking price. I only wanted $1,000 which is why I put it in there for more. Ppl are fu$%in jew's. I agree to the price and him an his "ol' lady" leave to go to the bank.
2min later my phone rings, it's guy #2 and he is outside.
I walk out an talk to him, he is drinking a beer, at 9am.
I immediately like this guy.
He looks it over an I inform him of the ppl who had just left to go to the bank. He tells me he would like to have it but it's no big deal. Instantly the lightbulb above my head turns on.
me; dood, wana make an easy $100?
dood; uhh, ok, is it legal?
me; ha yea, when these ppl come back just tell them you want the car an are willin to give me $1,100 for it
dood; ok but what if they say fine he can have it? Honestly I was going to offer you $800 it’s all I got.
me; no problem, if that happens just turn to me an ask if ill take a check, I will say no, then you get upset an ramble off.
dood; welp *takes a swig of beer* allrighty
The redneck re-arrives, this is going to be sweet.
redneck; welp i got your money son
me; well this dood just showed up an i told him you went to the bank. He offered me $100 more
redneck; i thought we had a deal son?
me; deal? title an keys are in my hand, the money isnt.
redneck; hmm, well i sure do like this here car. i dont think its right but I can give you the $1,200 yousa askin but ima have go'n back to the bank
me; ok dood.
So this guy leaves to go back to the bank. Me an guy #2 are standing on the porch laughing our asses off.
He offers me a beer. I do not decline.
After a few minute's of bullshitting the redneck is back.
redneck; uh whats'a dat feller doin still here?
me; ah he was just waitin to make sure you did come back with the money
redneck; yup got er' right here
me; aight dood *counts it out* cool, here's your title/keys/bill of sale
redneck; ok ima have the ol' lady follow me to the barn
me; uh, you not gona put license on that fudge thing?
redneck; nope, dont reckon i am
me; haha ok dood, dont call me from jail
They leave.
Me an guy #2 are laughing our asses off. He says it's time for him to leave and any fear he has ever had of being pulled over is now curbed due to this idiot driving around tag-less.
I hand him his $100 an he thanks me. I thank him for the beer, an he takes off to his truck.
Im an asshole.
Guilty until proven innocent
Since the day I turned 18 and got arrested for the first of what would turn out to be upwards of a dozen times I learned how completely full of shit this statement truly is.
A cop cuffs n stuffs you, throws you in the back of his car, then takes you on down to the station so he can take calls about how he really is interested in changing his long distance telephone service while he should be doing paperwork so you can get this over with. Finally after the assclown is done you are graced by his presence on a lovely stroll to the crossbar motel. Your stay here can range from very short to very long depending on a few things.
How drunk you are
What time it is
How big of a pain in the ass you were
How many times you have been here
You are now waiting on a magistrate to have time to arraign you. If you are lucky she will set your bond at PR which means you have to pay nada. I have never been this lucky.
Usually there is at least one bondsman lurking around magistrate court so you will need to locate this guy or have someone else do it. You could also just call one. If you are like me you will have one on speed dial on your cell phone which does not help you because you are not allowed to use it. Good think I got it in my memory too huh?
You or your bondsman posts your bond and after signing your life away on a few pieces of paper saying you understand what you are being charged with you are escorted back to the jail, cuffed again because hey, you might run away right?
You get your shit back that you came to jail with minus whatever cash the guards felt like keeping for themselves when you were originally brought in.
You walk out of the jail unguarded, in your own clothes, an not cuffed. You are now free to leave the jail. What the difference is between now and when you were walking back from court to jail when you had to be cuffed I do not know.
You are now on bond. You are not allowed to leave the state, or break any laws. The result in doing so can mean your bond will be revoked and you will have to sit in jail until your court hearing which is yet to be determined. They will send you a notice to appear in the mail that will tell you to appear many months later from the date you receive it.
You now require the assistance of a lawyer. You track one down and go visit him. He asks you a lot of questions then tells you he requires a five thousand dollar retainer and the right to name your first born. If you already have a child you must sign a waiver allowing him to have sex with your wife and or girlfriend.
Your court date has arrived. If your lawyer was smart he has requested a jury trial. You now go into a room full of old people with an outlook on the world that the legal system does work and that cops do not arrest innocent people and you are obviously guilty of something and that is why you are here. The task of proving your innocence is now put on your lawyer in front of this jury of people. Your life outcome has now become a game of coin toss where your lawyer flips the coin in the air and the jury calls it.
In the end if you win or lose you are still out the money you spent on the lawyer, you are out time and money for having to take off of work to appear in court. Your name was in the paper for being arrested for something you may or may not have done, and your boss without doubt now thinks you are a screw up. He/She is possibly correct.
Law enforcement, I am not a fan.
A cop cuffs n stuffs you, throws you in the back of his car, then takes you on down to the station so he can take calls about how he really is interested in changing his long distance telephone service while he should be doing paperwork so you can get this over with. Finally after the assclown is done you are graced by his presence on a lovely stroll to the crossbar motel. Your stay here can range from very short to very long depending on a few things.
How drunk you are
What time it is
How big of a pain in the ass you were
How many times you have been here
You are now waiting on a magistrate to have time to arraign you. If you are lucky she will set your bond at PR which means you have to pay nada. I have never been this lucky.
Usually there is at least one bondsman lurking around magistrate court so you will need to locate this guy or have someone else do it. You could also just call one. If you are like me you will have one on speed dial on your cell phone which does not help you because you are not allowed to use it. Good think I got it in my memory too huh?
You or your bondsman posts your bond and after signing your life away on a few pieces of paper saying you understand what you are being charged with you are escorted back to the jail, cuffed again because hey, you might run away right?
You get your shit back that you came to jail with minus whatever cash the guards felt like keeping for themselves when you were originally brought in.
You walk out of the jail unguarded, in your own clothes, an not cuffed. You are now free to leave the jail. What the difference is between now and when you were walking back from court to jail when you had to be cuffed I do not know.
You are now on bond. You are not allowed to leave the state, or break any laws. The result in doing so can mean your bond will be revoked and you will have to sit in jail until your court hearing which is yet to be determined. They will send you a notice to appear in the mail that will tell you to appear many months later from the date you receive it.
You now require the assistance of a lawyer. You track one down and go visit him. He asks you a lot of questions then tells you he requires a five thousand dollar retainer and the right to name your first born. If you already have a child you must sign a waiver allowing him to have sex with your wife and or girlfriend.
Your court date has arrived. If your lawyer was smart he has requested a jury trial. You now go into a room full of old people with an outlook on the world that the legal system does work and that cops do not arrest innocent people and you are obviously guilty of something and that is why you are here. The task of proving your innocence is now put on your lawyer in front of this jury of people. Your life outcome has now become a game of coin toss where your lawyer flips the coin in the air and the jury calls it.
In the end if you win or lose you are still out the money you spent on the lawyer, you are out time and money for having to take off of work to appear in court. Your name was in the paper for being arrested for something you may or may not have done, and your boss without doubt now thinks you are a screw up. He/She is possibly correct.
Law enforcement, I am not a fan.
Never email your boss..
This is the real, un altered email which I sent to my boss, the CEO of a Property Research company which I was working for some time back. The only thing I changed in this email is the name of my boss, and the company name.
I highly suggest you not try this as your boss may not find this type of humor as funny as mine did at the time. Also im sure some type of sexual herassment is in order. Who knows, you can sue for anything now days.
Anyhow, enjoy.
Att: *edited boss's name**
1. After coming home from what was more than my agreed 8hr day at work, I turned my tv to nick at night to find an old episode of I Dream of Jeanie. In this particular episode Jeanie granted upon the house a 5 course meal, as well as rolled out red carpet for Major Nelson to walk on as he entered his humble abode. Me sitting in my livingroom having seen this began to think, do i not deserve the same treatment? I have yet to have dinner waiting on me at the office, let alone red carpet to walk on. Im just really beginning to feel unappreciated for what I do around here.
2. I cant put a gun to someones head and force them to make my deed copies, I have tried and tried if you think the gun idea will work though then it is my belief that you should go to Mason Co. and try it YOURSELF! I did however put a gun to my own head and demanded deed copies. Never before have I seen such a large group of people chanting "pull the trigger you pussy" in my life.
3. I think it only fair that my payscale be re-evaluated. I sat down earlier tonight and added up my bills and put on the left side of my scale which I use to measure out Maryjuana with. I then printed out 2 of my timesheet's equaling one month's pay and put on the other side of the scale. Well as im sure you can guess the side with my bills plummeted immediatley, thus breaking the table it was on, as well as damaging the spanish tile I had just installed in my kitchen. That can meen only 1 thing, I am not only bad with money but I have too many bills with nothing to show for it. I think it only fair however that instead of me managing my money better you should instead just up my payscale so that for 1 month and 1 month only I will be able to pay my bills. Only after that 1st month will I then go and aquire more bills to compensate for my increased payscale.
4. After a previous incident in the courthouse I found the constant handling of books to be hazardous to my health both mentally and physically. It is my belief that someone should be hired to pull and replace books for me. If possible hiring a 2nd person to read them for me would be greatly appreciated as well. Last week as I was replacing deed book 69 I pulled a muscle in my wrist leaving me helpless for the rest of the day. Later that night I found myself inable to masturbate leaving me with no option other than aquiring the help of an escort service in which the receipt for I have yet to fax but will be included in with my expense report.
5. I find it rather annoying that you expect certain things out of me such as showing up, doing my job, doing my job correctly, ect. I meen really, you are my Boss, not my Mom. You have no right what-so-ever in telling me what to, or not to do. It is extremely difficult for me to run my errands, do my laundry, go shopping, ect. during buisness hours when you are constantly calling me asking me to do various things. In the future it would be greatly appreciated if you would refrain from doing so.
6. Yes I do carry a phone on me at all times, this does not meen nor give you the right to call me at any time. Contacting me is a privledge, not a right. Also I find it to be an inconvenience that when you do call it is work related. Have you ever thought that I may be on the other line discussing things such as what im going to wear tomorrow to work with someone when you call? Your constant calls break my train of thought. It would be appreciated if they would stop immediatley.
7. Below you will see that I have infact enclosed a picture of a flower boquet because you do not pay me enough to buy an aqtual boquet, which I explained in #3 of this said letter. The picture of the flowers is infact a Haloween boquet. Being as how this date is 11-03-2005 Haloween is over thus rendering the Haloween boquet on sale. Allthough sending this picture of them is infact free I still had to send a picture of the one which was on sale. That is just how broke I am. (see #3 again)
I would like to thank you in advance for reading this email. I feel positive that you will not only understand but comply with my every request as well. However in the unlikely event that you do not share my feelings and or beliefs described in this said letter I will be left with no choise other than to turn in my resignation. In the event of me resigning from **edited company name** you will be left with no choise other than begging me to come back. In the event the above mention series of events unfold I will be left with no choise other than renaming **edited company name** to fit my requirements of what I think my company name should be. The re-arranging will be CALL&L. We will then in time turn our Property Research buisness into a call girl buisness, thus the "CALL&L" arrangement.
Also, I believe an apolagy as well as some gratitude is in order for me having to take time out of my schedule to write you this email. In the future could you perhaps ask your psychic what it is that I am infact thinking or in need of. That would put alot less workload on me having to answer you.
---
In that original email I forgot to email a picture of flowers which I had found online. It was a picture of a haloween boquet in a pumpkin. Below is the follow up email which I sent directly after I had realised what happened.
---
Att: **edited boss's name**
In my previous letter I failed to attach the said flowers picture. That memory lapse is just further proof of me being under appreciated and over worked. Below however I have infact sent you the flowers that you so dearly deserve.
**picture of said flowers here*
I hope that the presence of these flowers will compell you to print them out from your inbox and set them onto your desk so that they brighten your day and give you a sense of fulfillment so that you may then give me the pay increase which you know I deserve.
I highly suggest you not try this as your boss may not find this type of humor as funny as mine did at the time. Also im sure some type of sexual herassment is in order. Who knows, you can sue for anything now days.
Anyhow, enjoy.
Att: *edited boss's name**
1. After coming home from what was more than my agreed 8hr day at work, I turned my tv to nick at night to find an old episode of I Dream of Jeanie. In this particular episode Jeanie granted upon the house a 5 course meal, as well as rolled out red carpet for Major Nelson to walk on as he entered his humble abode. Me sitting in my livingroom having seen this began to think, do i not deserve the same treatment? I have yet to have dinner waiting on me at the office, let alone red carpet to walk on. Im just really beginning to feel unappreciated for what I do around here.
2. I cant put a gun to someones head and force them to make my deed copies, I have tried and tried if you think the gun idea will work though then it is my belief that you should go to Mason Co. and try it YOURSELF! I did however put a gun to my own head and demanded deed copies. Never before have I seen such a large group of people chanting "pull the trigger you pussy" in my life.
3. I think it only fair that my payscale be re-evaluated. I sat down earlier tonight and added up my bills and put on the left side of my scale which I use to measure out Maryjuana with. I then printed out 2 of my timesheet's equaling one month's pay and put on the other side of the scale. Well as im sure you can guess the side with my bills plummeted immediatley, thus breaking the table it was on, as well as damaging the spanish tile I had just installed in my kitchen. That can meen only 1 thing, I am not only bad with money but I have too many bills with nothing to show for it. I think it only fair however that instead of me managing my money better you should instead just up my payscale so that for 1 month and 1 month only I will be able to pay my bills. Only after that 1st month will I then go and aquire more bills to compensate for my increased payscale.
4. After a previous incident in the courthouse I found the constant handling of books to be hazardous to my health both mentally and physically. It is my belief that someone should be hired to pull and replace books for me. If possible hiring a 2nd person to read them for me would be greatly appreciated as well. Last week as I was replacing deed book 69 I pulled a muscle in my wrist leaving me helpless for the rest of the day. Later that night I found myself inable to masturbate leaving me with no option other than aquiring the help of an escort service in which the receipt for I have yet to fax but will be included in with my expense report.
5. I find it rather annoying that you expect certain things out of me such as showing up, doing my job, doing my job correctly, ect. I meen really, you are my Boss, not my Mom. You have no right what-so-ever in telling me what to, or not to do. It is extremely difficult for me to run my errands, do my laundry, go shopping, ect. during buisness hours when you are constantly calling me asking me to do various things. In the future it would be greatly appreciated if you would refrain from doing so.
6. Yes I do carry a phone on me at all times, this does not meen nor give you the right to call me at any time. Contacting me is a privledge, not a right. Also I find it to be an inconvenience that when you do call it is work related. Have you ever thought that I may be on the other line discussing things such as what im going to wear tomorrow to work with someone when you call? Your constant calls break my train of thought. It would be appreciated if they would stop immediatley.
7. Below you will see that I have infact enclosed a picture of a flower boquet because you do not pay me enough to buy an aqtual boquet, which I explained in #3 of this said letter. The picture of the flowers is infact a Haloween boquet. Being as how this date is 11-03-2005 Haloween is over thus rendering the Haloween boquet on sale. Allthough sending this picture of them is infact free I still had to send a picture of the one which was on sale. That is just how broke I am. (see #3 again)
I would like to thank you in advance for reading this email. I feel positive that you will not only understand but comply with my every request as well. However in the unlikely event that you do not share my feelings and or beliefs described in this said letter I will be left with no choise other than to turn in my resignation. In the event of me resigning from **edited company name** you will be left with no choise other than begging me to come back. In the event the above mention series of events unfold I will be left with no choise other than renaming **edited company name** to fit my requirements of what I think my company name should be. The re-arranging will be CALL&L. We will then in time turn our Property Research buisness into a call girl buisness, thus the "CALL&L" arrangement.
Also, I believe an apolagy as well as some gratitude is in order for me having to take time out of my schedule to write you this email. In the future could you perhaps ask your psychic what it is that I am infact thinking or in need of. That would put alot less workload on me having to answer you.
---
In that original email I forgot to email a picture of flowers which I had found online. It was a picture of a haloween boquet in a pumpkin. Below is the follow up email which I sent directly after I had realised what happened.
---
Att: **edited boss's name**
In my previous letter I failed to attach the said flowers picture. That memory lapse is just further proof of me being under appreciated and over worked. Below however I have infact sent you the flowers that you so dearly deserve.
**picture of said flowers here*
I hope that the presence of these flowers will compell you to print them out from your inbox and set them onto your desk so that they brighten your day and give you a sense of fulfillment so that you may then give me the pay increase which you know I deserve.
Seagrams vs Stocker - advantage, Seagrams
This day started like many days did when I lived in the Castle of Corruption. It usually involved walking in the door from work, hungover, and looking for the nearest bottle of booze to cure it.
A dash to the kitchen reveals I am *gasp* out of liquor. To many people this would not be that big of an ordeal. But in this house it is unheard of. 3 single guys living in a 3 story house with enough drugs and booze in it at any given moment to supply most rockstar's party habits.
You know how when people go out with intent to get boozed and or drugged up beyond all belief they use the phrase
"tonight I'm going to party like a rockstar"?
Well when rockstar's go out they use the phrase;
"tonight I'm going to party like Siwel".
It's true. Call Courtney Love, she will tell you.
Anyhow,
A trip to the local liquor store "north end market" reveals Seagrams 7 is on sale. The big, big bottle is just $11 and some change. With prices like this I couldnt afford NOT to buy it.
I return to the humble abode to find my room-mate Stock sitting in the livingroom. He has had a long day at work and grins as I walk in cradling my brown paperbagged bundle of joy. I yell at him "Hey Stock! Wana split a botle of 7?!" He glares at me in a way that an Etheopian glares at a Happymeal. He knows it is going to be one of those nights.
Two super big gulp cups of ice and 7 topped off with a little gingerale and the race is on. We start social drinking which quickly turns into all out gulping. We divvy up the remainder of the bottle between the both of us and top it off once again with gingerale. Our 3rd room-mate SanJuan walks in to witness this event. "Allright!" he says as he walks by seeing us in our pre-drunken stupor.
Many people can be totally content to sit at home and drink, but they reach a certain point of drunkeness they feel the need to go out and mingle amongst people so as not to hide any alcohol influenced wisdom which they posess. They also feel the rest of the public should be made aware of this knowledge. We are no exception.
SanJuan drives us to the Bdubs.
(this is Siwel pre-ban from bdubs time)
We walk in happily holding our super big gulps which are now only about 1/4 filled with melted ice resulting in a watered down mix of cheap whiskey and gingerale. I feel the need to show my cup of glory to everyone I come in contact with. I tell them the tale of 2 men who conquored the allmighty bottle of 7 and still live to tell about it. It is my belief that people are overly impressed with me and my tale.
(in reality I am sure they were not)
Super big gulp is cashed. I now turn to Jagerbombs chased by 23oz draft beer. Stock is drunk, I am drunk, SanJuan is drunk.
(not sure what SanJuan was drinking, I was too busy mingling with people who probably did not want to talk to me or hear about my tale)
As I wander to the pooltable to talk to some unsuspecting whores I hear a commotion behind me twards the bar. I turn around to see Stock passed out head down on the table, still holding his beer. SanJuan has somehow made his way up and is now standing atop his barstool at the table. He unzips his pants and begins the process of pulling out his weapon of destruction so that he may releive himself on the head of passed out Stock.
This undoubtedly gains the attention of everyone in the bar, as well as bartenders. They grab him and pull him off of the barstool which he once stood atop. In this commotion Stock awakens, unsuspecting to the previous occurance then passes right back out.
It is decided this bar scene is dead. It is guys night at "Big Al's" which means free booze for the guys. Game on!
We help Stock to the Jeep where it is decided we are totally fine to drive. Infact we are so fine to drive I am amazed SanJuan did not put us into a ditch or kill us. Somewhere in this smooth riding experience Stock feels the need to get a good look at his previous drink by regurgitating it out of the window and onto the side of the jeep. We do not stop, we are on a mission to the bar, Stock can just enjoy the ride as his head hangs out the window like a dog. Maybe the wind will do him good.
Stock is passed out, we decide it best to leave him in the car and go consume more alcohol.
Inside the bar is filled with the usual. A few people I knew and liked, a few girls I didnt mind takling to, a few cops who I hated, and a bunch of whores.
Somehow I wind up playing pool with this cop who I didnt like who was dating a friend of mine. I am highly intoxicated at this point however, so I like him. With him is a whore who was also a friend of mine. He is laying game to her, he see's his chances are high but is worried about my presence ruining his homelife if I was to ratt his actions out to his gf. Me being highly intoxicated atthe time assure him I would not ratt him out, and that I had allways thought he was a cool guy an bla bla. The whore asked him and me repeatidly what happened to his gf, an why they broke up. (typical story to tell a girl, youre broke up or on a break).
I find that it is now closing time. I make a dash to the bar to attempt to purchase a case of beer. My wishes are granted and away I walk with the most expensive case of beer in history. I have also however passed the drunken stage where I am nice and like everyone. I now realise everyone sucks and I feel the need to tell them. As I walk out I tell the whore that the cop is infact still with his gf, has been lying to her all night, and that I had just txt msg his gf telling her of the nights events. She is unpleased.
Somehow I make it to the Jeep where Stock is still passed out. I decide it best to get in and close the door before the cop comes outside and hears of my latest actions. SanJuan reached the drivers seat and off we go. I am now chugging beer as fast as humanly possible so that I will be left with empty bottles to throw at street signs. I only finish two.
For some reason even though the path from the bar to our house was straight, it seems to allways have a detour in it at about 3am which involves driving through the 24hrs Hardee's drive-thru. I immediatley find out how much they do not appreciate it when you order things that are not on the menu such as a Big-Mac or a large pizza. They spit in our food, hand it to us, and off we go.
(I can only assume the spit part, but I am very sure of it even though I had not witnessed it)
Home. I am not real sure what happened here.
I remember getting home and walking upstairs to my bedroom but that's it. I woke up at around 11pm the next day with lettuce and Hardee's wrappers in my bed and my cellphone with about 10 missed calls and countles txt msg's.
Im a mean drunk
A dash to the kitchen reveals I am *gasp* out of liquor. To many people this would not be that big of an ordeal. But in this house it is unheard of. 3 single guys living in a 3 story house with enough drugs and booze in it at any given moment to supply most rockstar's party habits.
You know how when people go out with intent to get boozed and or drugged up beyond all belief they use the phrase
"tonight I'm going to party like a rockstar"?
Well when rockstar's go out they use the phrase;
"tonight I'm going to party like Siwel".
It's true. Call Courtney Love, she will tell you.
Anyhow,
A trip to the local liquor store "north end market" reveals Seagrams 7 is on sale. The big, big bottle is just $11 and some change. With prices like this I couldnt afford NOT to buy it.
I return to the humble abode to find my room-mate Stock sitting in the livingroom. He has had a long day at work and grins as I walk in cradling my brown paperbagged bundle of joy. I yell at him "Hey Stock! Wana split a botle of 7?!" He glares at me in a way that an Etheopian glares at a Happymeal. He knows it is going to be one of those nights.
Two super big gulp cups of ice and 7 topped off with a little gingerale and the race is on. We start social drinking which quickly turns into all out gulping. We divvy up the remainder of the bottle between the both of us and top it off once again with gingerale. Our 3rd room-mate SanJuan walks in to witness this event. "Allright!" he says as he walks by seeing us in our pre-drunken stupor.
Many people can be totally content to sit at home and drink, but they reach a certain point of drunkeness they feel the need to go out and mingle amongst people so as not to hide any alcohol influenced wisdom which they posess. They also feel the rest of the public should be made aware of this knowledge. We are no exception.
SanJuan drives us to the Bdubs.
(this is Siwel pre-ban from bdubs time)
We walk in happily holding our super big gulps which are now only about 1/4 filled with melted ice resulting in a watered down mix of cheap whiskey and gingerale. I feel the need to show my cup of glory to everyone I come in contact with. I tell them the tale of 2 men who conquored the allmighty bottle of 7 and still live to tell about it. It is my belief that people are overly impressed with me and my tale.
(in reality I am sure they were not)
Super big gulp is cashed. I now turn to Jagerbombs chased by 23oz draft beer. Stock is drunk, I am drunk, SanJuan is drunk.
(not sure what SanJuan was drinking, I was too busy mingling with people who probably did not want to talk to me or hear about my tale)
As I wander to the pooltable to talk to some unsuspecting whores I hear a commotion behind me twards the bar. I turn around to see Stock passed out head down on the table, still holding his beer. SanJuan has somehow made his way up and is now standing atop his barstool at the table. He unzips his pants and begins the process of pulling out his weapon of destruction so that he may releive himself on the head of passed out Stock.
This undoubtedly gains the attention of everyone in the bar, as well as bartenders. They grab him and pull him off of the barstool which he once stood atop. In this commotion Stock awakens, unsuspecting to the previous occurance then passes right back out.
It is decided this bar scene is dead. It is guys night at "Big Al's" which means free booze for the guys. Game on!
We help Stock to the Jeep where it is decided we are totally fine to drive. Infact we are so fine to drive I am amazed SanJuan did not put us into a ditch or kill us. Somewhere in this smooth riding experience Stock feels the need to get a good look at his previous drink by regurgitating it out of the window and onto the side of the jeep. We do not stop, we are on a mission to the bar, Stock can just enjoy the ride as his head hangs out the window like a dog. Maybe the wind will do him good.
Stock is passed out, we decide it best to leave him in the car and go consume more alcohol.
Inside the bar is filled with the usual. A few people I knew and liked, a few girls I didnt mind takling to, a few cops who I hated, and a bunch of whores.
Somehow I wind up playing pool with this cop who I didnt like who was dating a friend of mine. I am highly intoxicated at this point however, so I like him. With him is a whore who was also a friend of mine. He is laying game to her, he see's his chances are high but is worried about my presence ruining his homelife if I was to ratt his actions out to his gf. Me being highly intoxicated atthe time assure him I would not ratt him out, and that I had allways thought he was a cool guy an bla bla. The whore asked him and me repeatidly what happened to his gf, an why they broke up. (typical story to tell a girl, youre broke up or on a break).
I find that it is now closing time. I make a dash to the bar to attempt to purchase a case of beer. My wishes are granted and away I walk with the most expensive case of beer in history. I have also however passed the drunken stage where I am nice and like everyone. I now realise everyone sucks and I feel the need to tell them. As I walk out I tell the whore that the cop is infact still with his gf, has been lying to her all night, and that I had just txt msg his gf telling her of the nights events. She is unpleased.
Somehow I make it to the Jeep where Stock is still passed out. I decide it best to get in and close the door before the cop comes outside and hears of my latest actions. SanJuan reached the drivers seat and off we go. I am now chugging beer as fast as humanly possible so that I will be left with empty bottles to throw at street signs. I only finish two.
For some reason even though the path from the bar to our house was straight, it seems to allways have a detour in it at about 3am which involves driving through the 24hrs Hardee's drive-thru. I immediatley find out how much they do not appreciate it when you order things that are not on the menu such as a Big-Mac or a large pizza. They spit in our food, hand it to us, and off we go.
(I can only assume the spit part, but I am very sure of it even though I had not witnessed it)
Home. I am not real sure what happened here.
I remember getting home and walking upstairs to my bedroom but that's it. I woke up at around 11pm the next day with lettuce and Hardee's wrappers in my bed and my cellphone with about 10 missed calls and countles txt msg's.
Im a mean drunk
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Women are f'd up
This is a nice one..
A buddy of mine, pretty good friend mind you, well him and his gf of quite a while broke up. No big deal, I mean it happens to everyone. When me and him met and became friends he was with this girl, meaning I have known her just as long as he, and get along rather well with her as well as I do him.
Now then, letting that soak in here you have it..
I went to go tan a few weeks back. Oh, probably 4 weeks back if memory serves. I got out and walked out front an sat down with my bottle of water an im bullshittin' with one of my friends who works there. In walks my buddie's ex gf. We talk for a few seconds, nothing major just the typical mindless chatter of "how ya been, havent seen you in a while, whatcha been into" you know, that kind of stuff. She ask's if I am going to tan and I tell ehr that I had just got out and was just sitting there talking. She says ok, well I guess I might see you when I get out then.
So far nothing really out of the ordinary, just the typical bs you say to ppl. I continue in on the conversation which I was having with my friend and we go on as we were before the girl had arrived.
Anyhow roughly 20min goes by and she is done tanning. Out she walks and sits down an talks to me for a few minutes. She says we should do lunch some time bla bla an im like yea whatever just get ahold of me. I didnt want to be rude and say "are you fucking kidding me? I am not going to lunch w/you". Besides that I figure it was just one of those casual things you say to someone even tho you infact do not want to go to lunch with them.
She leaves the joint, as do I. I go home and do the usual.. which is more than likely either play Wii or watch tv. Anyhow it's buisness as usual in the abode.. and I go to bed.
The next day I get up and take a shower, when I get out I have a txt msg. It's her an she want's to know if I am up for lunch. Weird, but perhaps her intentions are really honest and just wants someone to talk to. I inform her that I am heading to the mall, and she could make an appearance if she wanted to.
No biggie, mall bound I go
So I am perusing Hollister looking for jeans which is a mother fucker to find by the way.. and she strolls in. I go in just about every store in the mall.. twice.. and she is making fun of me because I am worse than a girl. Anyhow she talks about her ex, asks me the usual things women ask trying to get info on what he is doing out of me..
This is what I expected! I am now free and clear, I now know 110% that she is not interested in me, thank god. the last thing I want or need is my buddy of a few years mad at me because his ex name dropped or asks him if he cares if she see's me or some stupid shit like that..
Anyhow, the next day rolls around an she call's a few times. now it's getting weird. She explains to me how she would like to go to a movie.. I quickly say eh well, I dont think it's a good diea, besides I have seen everything playing. She now exlpains that is ok, she wasent really interested in watching the movie anyhow..
Ok, now im disturbed. She obviously does not care about the fact her ex and I are friends, or the fact that I have a gf. I however do care about all of this..
I kind of make a joke about it, blowing her off.. then just stopped answering when she would call. If you know me, you know that I rarely ever answer my phone anyhow so I guess this may not work, but it has so far. The calls and txt's have seemed to stop, so I guess all is well on my end.
^ Ok, are you with me so far? Good.
This is a girl with obvious mental issues.
My first problem with this situation is anyone who is that ate up with me right off the bat has got to be completely fucking stupid. However it has happened before.. *shrug*
In a nutshell I am a;
1. complete dickhead with no regard to the feelings or concerns of those around me
2. somewhat self centered prick who is not concerned with yuor well being
3. cocky basterd who thinks it is ok for himself to be cocky but hates others who are
4. incapable of having a conversation with you unless I find it interesting
5. unable to remember anything or pay attention to anything unless I find it interesting
Im sure there is alot more, but let's just go with the 5 I have listed, shall we?
All 5 of those statements are completely true, ask anyone who I am not technically "friends" with who know me, and they will tell you pretty much what I just listed, perhaps even a bit worse.
When I dont know someone, or perticularly care about them, I really dont give a fuck. I find no reason to care about them or what they have to say because I view it as a plain waste of my time. If I dont know you, and you die tomorrow, it doesnt effect me one single bit. Just as if I died I dont expect it to effect you one bit. You cant go on about your life caring about every single thing or you will eventually lose your fucking mind.
Now I ask you,
Taking into consideration those 5 things in which I described myself, do I really sound like someone who you would want to date? Yes, I agree dating me is completely different but the me you meet and the me who you date are two different people. You have to get past the me you meet first. An why in the fuck would any girl find that appealing?
I guess it comes down to the whole (You allways want what you cant have) ordeal, as well as a little bit of the fact that girls like guys with confidence. I guess somehow my being a cock sucker is viewed by them as confidence thus rendering my actions and ego problem as a front as you will for what they believe is a strong person.. I dono, makes no sense to me.
This would prob be a good time for me to post one of those pages from my book which has my theory on how women work.. but I have been trying to refrain from posting any book chapters. I may break that rule in the next few weeks tho.
Anyhow it's a bit after 1am so I am going to bounce.
Til next time.. ..yea, you know the drill
A buddy of mine, pretty good friend mind you, well him and his gf of quite a while broke up. No big deal, I mean it happens to everyone. When me and him met and became friends he was with this girl, meaning I have known her just as long as he, and get along rather well with her as well as I do him.
Now then, letting that soak in here you have it..
I went to go tan a few weeks back. Oh, probably 4 weeks back if memory serves. I got out and walked out front an sat down with my bottle of water an im bullshittin' with one of my friends who works there. In walks my buddie's ex gf. We talk for a few seconds, nothing major just the typical mindless chatter of "how ya been, havent seen you in a while, whatcha been into" you know, that kind of stuff. She ask's if I am going to tan and I tell ehr that I had just got out and was just sitting there talking. She says ok, well I guess I might see you when I get out then.
So far nothing really out of the ordinary, just the typical bs you say to ppl. I continue in on the conversation which I was having with my friend and we go on as we were before the girl had arrived.
Anyhow roughly 20min goes by and she is done tanning. Out she walks and sits down an talks to me for a few minutes. She says we should do lunch some time bla bla an im like yea whatever just get ahold of me. I didnt want to be rude and say "are you fucking kidding me? I am not going to lunch w/you". Besides that I figure it was just one of those casual things you say to someone even tho you infact do not want to go to lunch with them.
She leaves the joint, as do I. I go home and do the usual.. which is more than likely either play Wii or watch tv. Anyhow it's buisness as usual in the abode.. and I go to bed.
The next day I get up and take a shower, when I get out I have a txt msg. It's her an she want's to know if I am up for lunch. Weird, but perhaps her intentions are really honest and just wants someone to talk to. I inform her that I am heading to the mall, and she could make an appearance if she wanted to.
No biggie, mall bound I go
So I am perusing Hollister looking for jeans which is a mother fucker to find by the way.. and she strolls in. I go in just about every store in the mall.. twice.. and she is making fun of me because I am worse than a girl. Anyhow she talks about her ex, asks me the usual things women ask trying to get info on what he is doing out of me..
This is what I expected! I am now free and clear, I now know 110% that she is not interested in me, thank god. the last thing I want or need is my buddy of a few years mad at me because his ex name dropped or asks him if he cares if she see's me or some stupid shit like that..
Anyhow, the next day rolls around an she call's a few times. now it's getting weird. She explains to me how she would like to go to a movie.. I quickly say eh well, I dont think it's a good diea, besides I have seen everything playing. She now exlpains that is ok, she wasent really interested in watching the movie anyhow..
Ok, now im disturbed. She obviously does not care about the fact her ex and I are friends, or the fact that I have a gf. I however do care about all of this..
I kind of make a joke about it, blowing her off.. then just stopped answering when she would call. If you know me, you know that I rarely ever answer my phone anyhow so I guess this may not work, but it has so far. The calls and txt's have seemed to stop, so I guess all is well on my end.
^ Ok, are you with me so far? Good.
This is a girl with obvious mental issues.
My first problem with this situation is anyone who is that ate up with me right off the bat has got to be completely fucking stupid. However it has happened before.. *shrug*
In a nutshell I am a;
1. complete dickhead with no regard to the feelings or concerns of those around me
2. somewhat self centered prick who is not concerned with yuor well being
3. cocky basterd who thinks it is ok for himself to be cocky but hates others who are
4. incapable of having a conversation with you unless I find it interesting
5. unable to remember anything or pay attention to anything unless I find it interesting
Im sure there is alot more, but let's just go with the 5 I have listed, shall we?
All 5 of those statements are completely true, ask anyone who I am not technically "friends" with who know me, and they will tell you pretty much what I just listed, perhaps even a bit worse.
When I dont know someone, or perticularly care about them, I really dont give a fuck. I find no reason to care about them or what they have to say because I view it as a plain waste of my time. If I dont know you, and you die tomorrow, it doesnt effect me one single bit. Just as if I died I dont expect it to effect you one bit. You cant go on about your life caring about every single thing or you will eventually lose your fucking mind.
Now I ask you,
Taking into consideration those 5 things in which I described myself, do I really sound like someone who you would want to date? Yes, I agree dating me is completely different but the me you meet and the me who you date are two different people. You have to get past the me you meet first. An why in the fuck would any girl find that appealing?
I guess it comes down to the whole (You allways want what you cant have) ordeal, as well as a little bit of the fact that girls like guys with confidence. I guess somehow my being a cock sucker is viewed by them as confidence thus rendering my actions and ego problem as a front as you will for what they believe is a strong person.. I dono, makes no sense to me.
This would prob be a good time for me to post one of those pages from my book which has my theory on how women work.. but I have been trying to refrain from posting any book chapters. I may break that rule in the next few weeks tho.
Anyhow it's a bit after 1am so I am going to bounce.
Til next time.. ..yea, you know the drill
It ain't easy, bein' easy..
Being famous has it's perks, I mean you can walk into bars and usually get quite a bit of things for free. Be it from the bartender or from just general fans of yours. However there is allways a downside to things..
Everyone is your "friend".
Any time someone asks about you, there will be some jackass who not only knows you, but is "good friends" with you. The two of you probably hangout ALL the time even.
When you are famous, you are viewed as "untouchable" and or "unattainable". This poses a challenge for women..
Sort of on the same note, you are going to have chic's who brag about sleeping with you, even if you infact havent slept with them. If I have gotten as much ass as I have been accused of getting I would never get any rest.
I would have to wake up on Monday morn, start at one end of town going door to door putting my dick in anything female until 3pm. Hey, 3pm is my quitting time no matter what kind of job I have..
Anyhow, back to women talking shit about fucking you when sometimes not only have yuo not fucked them, but you dont even know them.
This happens for a variety of reasons..
1. Knowing alot of girls out there want to fuck you, they get a sense of "haha, in your face bitch, I fucked him and you havent" kind of feeling. Women are bitches, and they will go to great length's to make other women feel of a lesser equal to them.
2. There's allways the coat-tails theory. No matter how bad you suck, if you fuck, or get a believeable rumor started that you fucked someone famous, you automatically climb the social ladder a little bit. The normal every day average girl who doesnt get noticed much now has a bit of the limelight in her direction. Guys will notice this, and think that if she was good enough for someone famous then there must be something about her they are missing..
3. Women are jealous territorial creatures. Even if they do not want you, they will be damned if they will let someone else have you. This goes double if you are famous. She will make it known that she has "been there, done that" and give fair warning for all other females to stay away.. (even if you are with another girl at the time).
4. Then there's allways the plain ol' bragging rights.
Hey, I fucked him.. Who wants to touch me?!
^ That happens to the uber famous people. If you have reached the level of untouchable that your popularity is rivaled only by Jesus Christ himself, this can happen. Jealousy is not shown until later down the road.
Now then, that being said..
This is an AOL convo I had the other night w/some chic I have known for many years. Instantly it became a new topic for a blog.
-
annonchic*** (12:06:55 AM): did i ever tell you that her and tiff wanted me to sleep w/you to join the "lewis club"
annonchic*** (12:07:00 AM): bc they both slept w/u
Jay x Soprano (12:05:00 AM): HAHAHAHA
^ Notice the level of hilarity here. I mean not only am I laughing "haha" I am laughing in all caps "HAHA". That right there shows you the intense humor I seen in those 2 lines of text.
Immediatley I paste this into a windo where me and my buddy are talking.. and this is the responce I get from him.
annon******* (12:08:15 AM): wow dude....youre a fucking legend almost
-
Allmost?
When bitches are bragging about fucking you, lieing about fucking you, and flat out wanting to fuck you, you are not a legend..
..you are a fucking GOD.
Anyhow, I have things to do, so that's enough of me preaching about how fucking awesome I am.
til next time..
Everyone is your "friend".
Any time someone asks about you, there will be some jackass who not only knows you, but is "good friends" with you. The two of you probably hangout ALL the time even.
When you are famous, you are viewed as "untouchable" and or "unattainable". This poses a challenge for women..
Sort of on the same note, you are going to have chic's who brag about sleeping with you, even if you infact havent slept with them. If I have gotten as much ass as I have been accused of getting I would never get any rest.
I would have to wake up on Monday morn, start at one end of town going door to door putting my dick in anything female until 3pm. Hey, 3pm is my quitting time no matter what kind of job I have..
Anyhow, back to women talking shit about fucking you when sometimes not only have yuo not fucked them, but you dont even know them.
This happens for a variety of reasons..
1. Knowing alot of girls out there want to fuck you, they get a sense of "haha, in your face bitch, I fucked him and you havent" kind of feeling. Women are bitches, and they will go to great length's to make other women feel of a lesser equal to them.
2. There's allways the coat-tails theory. No matter how bad you suck, if you fuck, or get a believeable rumor started that you fucked someone famous, you automatically climb the social ladder a little bit. The normal every day average girl who doesnt get noticed much now has a bit of the limelight in her direction. Guys will notice this, and think that if she was good enough for someone famous then there must be something about her they are missing..
3. Women are jealous territorial creatures. Even if they do not want you, they will be damned if they will let someone else have you. This goes double if you are famous. She will make it known that she has "been there, done that" and give fair warning for all other females to stay away.. (even if you are with another girl at the time).
4. Then there's allways the plain ol' bragging rights.
Hey, I fucked him.. Who wants to touch me?!
^ That happens to the uber famous people. If you have reached the level of untouchable that your popularity is rivaled only by Jesus Christ himself, this can happen. Jealousy is not shown until later down the road.
Now then, that being said..
This is an AOL convo I had the other night w/some chic I have known for many years. Instantly it became a new topic for a blog.
-
annonchic*** (12:06:55 AM): did i ever tell you that her and tiff wanted me to sleep w/you to join the "lewis club"
annonchic*** (12:07:00 AM): bc they both slept w/u
Jay x Soprano (12:05:00 AM): HAHAHAHA
^ Notice the level of hilarity here. I mean not only am I laughing "haha" I am laughing in all caps "HAHA". That right there shows you the intense humor I seen in those 2 lines of text.
Immediatley I paste this into a windo where me and my buddy are talking.. and this is the responce I get from him.
annon******* (12:08:15 AM): wow dude....youre a fucking legend almost
-
Allmost?
When bitches are bragging about fucking you, lieing about fucking you, and flat out wanting to fuck you, you are not a legend..
..you are a fucking GOD.
Anyhow, I have things to do, so that's enough of me preaching about how fucking awesome I am.
til next time..
Friday, June 3, 2011
Seether go boom
An hour before the Seether concert someone calls in a bomb threat.. Post pics later.
A grave fucking
HAMILTON – A woman who may have been engaged in sexual activity in a township cemetery Tuesday evening was injured when a tombstone fell on her leg, police said. - only in WV, folks.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Snortin & smokin
So apparently bath salts are now illegal, a long with k2. They should just make the real shit legal and be done with it. It's far less dangerous.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Humidity sucks
Looks like it isn't going to be a million degrees today.. Yet I still don't want off the couch.
Monday, May 30, 2011
It's been a while..
I have two blogs linked up, and somehow things are a bit askew now. its been a while since i used this.. But bear with me.
If you care to take a look around, there are links on the right to some of my older postings, most of which are taken from my book (which i have yet to finish)
Anyhow,
I you are here have a look around. I can always be found Facebook whoring though. Facebook.com/jaysiwel
If you care to take a look around, there are links on the right to some of my older postings, most of which are taken from my book (which i have yet to finish)
Anyhow,
I you are here have a look around. I can always be found Facebook whoring though. Facebook.com/jaysiwel
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