Archive for September, 2010

From the Archives: Alcohol

September 27, 2010

I thought I would go dig into the old shit I had done years ago.  It’s pretty bad.  Really bad. So it’s the same.  In this episode, my friend and I got drunk and I someone managed to do an update that night ALMOST as it happened.  I’m a horrible person for all of this.

Stardate: March 20, 2004:
Ok so Im drunk.

Quite driznk. So this one will probably make no sens – well…. less than they did befizore.

The night started out pretty cooooooooooool. My friend and I went to a local bar and, starting around 7:4fizive with began pitchers of Yuengling’s finest Lager by the pitcher.

Around 9:30ish, we decide we needed a break to admire the “trees” of the area. Beautiful trees… Starting to bloom. He saw about 4 trees and I only saw 2. 2 fucking trees. Why did I only see 2 trees? If the trees were smaller I would’ve seen more but since I can only handle a certain amount of tall, strong, trees – I only saw 2 trees. But just seeing those 2 trees made me a very happy man. I’m very easily pleased.

After we agreeeeed we saw enough trees, we agreed it was time to continue supporting the local brewery. We went back to the bar and and continues our quest again. The quest where we we forget what we’re questing for. Fudk quests.

So around 1:30ish while attemtping to play pool and not look I’m becoming a sudden parapaleigc, we befriended 2 females. A rather unattractive female and a rather cute Brunette.

The blonde, of course, was the touchy feely one. I’m sure the fact that she was drunk of her own 2 feet didn’t help, but having her touch me and rub against me was very strange to the say the least. And her friend, although nice, was keeping her distance.
I hate wing-bitch.

Well after about 4 shots and 2 pitchers of beer, I was near my limit and the silliness. Some how, the blondie acquired my phone number.
After we left, she called and asked me what I was doing. “Hoping to fuck your friend” is what I wanted to say but instead I said nothing. We rean into them at a McDonalds to where she said something like “Yeah I’m gonna go pick up my kid.” Strike 2.

The other amusing thing was her friend, the cute brunenettttte, was told to us by someone in the bar to have herpes and to avoid her. Naaaastry – Like the terotype goes, You can’t judge a boog by it’s cover.

We met that at the parking lot, said drive caref and sqyealed out o there. I obvioustly wasn’t thinking.

We needed food to get our senses back. Metting ugly infected chicks just was way out of our persona…. Something wasn’t right.


A drunken trip to the local grocery store yielded this for me. A classic, day old, turkey sub. With bread so soggy I could’ve squeezed it for moisture if I were trapped on a desserted island. Turkey so white you would think it had red eyes and feathers so white you expect snow before it was chopped up.

And my partner in crime? He’s no slaker:



Fucking heathen. B ringing oug into my house. Andn nthwo the fuck is dietz and waaaatson? PIg fucking NAZIISSS!!!!!!!!. but I’m cool and alowed it.



This should need explaoning. It’s fthis and every1 recognizes that it simply rulez your vagina…




Ex ept that I think it was expired. not so FUCKing GOLDING now huh?!
me and mah nigaaa….. Wekk the TV was LOOOOOOOOUD adn MTV just suckkks.

But that’s ok because the fuck bitch on THe screnn was making moist…..


DSLz baby,,,, and I aintalking broadband! YEAH!

but like most hos, it dinst’ last veryu long and started suckin shorly after so I decdiefed to change it with his:


ths sweetest remote ever.

You know I shouldave…


ok nermefnc. i cshoullc’’vveshould’ve brought the chi9ks -no they weers nASTTTTT






Brain (Tumor) Food

September 27, 2010
Technorati Tags: ,,

Well… about 2 months ago I got a call saying my dad was in the hospital with a brain tumor after getting in his car, getting lost, and not knowing where he was at all.  Here’s the bad boy:


Quite a mess. Apparently this is what is called a Stage/Class 4 Glioblastoma and it’s pretty much as bad as it gets. But, my father being a doctor himself of reputable ilk got the best care around and I’m guessing they went in with one of these:


And dug around for a few minutes, being careful not to scratch anything, and ended up with this:


This, I have to admit, is fucking crazy. I may have been slightly off-base thinking they would use a cocktail fork. Apparently the 10 hour surgery frontal craniotomy required them to go to peel down his forehead and cut out a section of the front of his skull.  The young female Chinese surgeon then told me:

“Then, when we removed the frontal area of his cranium, the tumor actually pushed out from his skull.  It was really quite remarkable and good news!”

Fantastic news!  You had a tumor flowing out of my fathers head!

In the end, though, it was good news because they were able to resect 90-95% of the tumor with no complications.  The reason there’s that empty space is because both the tumor and the surgery required the brain to be pushed back into his skull. 

“No need to worry though as his brain will slowly start to reshape into its normal size. Much like a sponge after you squeeze it!

However. Because the frontal lobe of the brain also controls ‘filtering’ language… He may say things he doesn’t really mean.”

And the first proof of this:  When he asked for a gun with a million bullets to kill all the “bastards” of the Pakistani government during the floods… and maybe a few for his kids for disappointing him so much in life.

So naturally, at first, I was concerned because even though he was a lying piece of shit who didn’t even have the decency to stick his dick in something hot when cheating on our mother – he did give us a pretty decent upbringing.

But it didn’t really last long.  His denial about his wife trying to take all his money (the cunt is going around behind his back tying up financial business) and the lying about being so broke he can’t pay for my youngest sister’s college have pretty much made me cold to his overall situation.  The doctors and statistics say he has about 2-4 years to survive (but it’s all subjective) and I think he knows he deserves what he gets for what he’s done, but he’ll never admit.  Whether you believe in God or not, some justice/kismet has a way of getting back to you. Plus when you make $300,000+ a year and your last alimony payment was over a decade ago – not to mention you’re still pulling a regular paycheck from your business and your disability kicks out about $10,000/month – it’s hard to believe a relatively intelligent human being (an otolarygological surgeon) could be broke.  Of course, that monster he’s with could be skewing my logic slightly.

It doesn’t bug me personally all that much anymore (it used to in the past) – but when I sit there and hear him say how much of a disappointment my siblings are to him – all brainwashing by his wife I’m sure – I want to punch him in the head.  But out of the respect for the medical condition, I haven’t….. Yet.

So anyway…  My confusion between hatred, compassion, and indifferences made me want to eat nonstop for a while.  And I ate some strange things looking back at it:


I think this was chicken tikka and Chinese fried rice? I can’t even tell from the picture.

truckstop hot dog

This was a hot dog I got from a NJ service stop.  It was supposed to be a “Famous” Nathan’s hot dog.  Leave it to NJ to fuck up something so simple to make awesome.  God I hate you, NJ.

cheese balls

Mozzarella balls soaked in Olive Oil and it’s own filth. Just as a physiological reaction my body had constipation cramps every time I took a bite. Delicious, painful, bites.

bird and sauce 

I don’t even remember what this was exactly.  I’m guessing it was something chicken-y that was far too spicy for my pussy taste buds that I had to douse in beautiful cream cheese. If anyone remembers me eating this, let me know.

And finally, something that has been taking the sting out of the family medical situation:


Now, granted I have long lost the permission to interact with 2 of the items in this picture; sometimes it’s nice, and occasionally relaxing,  to sit and stare at some art from time to time…

…. Only difference is sometimes I masturbate to certain collections.  Or at the very least, touch myself under the table.

(Sorry, dear)

Oh come on

September 27, 2010

So I went to Pizza Hut… Because I can. And of course I was seated next to this bowel movement and his Mexirican bitch…


Now he doesn’t seem to be causing much of a problem… Just using his food stamp (note: not racism, just par for the county) for deliciousness- so I don’t hate him for that.

No he’s guilty of actually playing his autotuned diarrhea music through the speaker of his phone with his south-of-the-border gash approving. I wanted to hit him with a cheesestick, but that would be unfair to the cheesestick.

Luckily… This beauty was able to distract me:


Yes she was far enough away for me to require a sniper rifle for my penis, but I’m a sad lonely man so it works out in the end

Thankfully…. My sliced life reduction plan showed up:


…and I was able to forget everything else and focus on remembering if I had enough toilet paper at the house. Because I was gonna need it.

I’m trying…

September 25, 2010


Hopefully tonight I can do something.