Dec 18, 2008


Current mood: fermented
Category: Blogging

Have you ever done something so stupid that you make
exponentially worse by lying and, your only hope is that there are no witnesses and if there are, that they don't remember?

I am adjusting the exact time frame of this because of Fear...and mostly embarrassment.

I hadn't been to the local mall in about 4-5 years. My
teenage years behind me, the need to look cool and hip (or
in my case like a glam metal god!!) were a thing of the past.
SO basically I had given up my mall rat status and my teased
hair had been cut (although I was re-growing it, a trend I
would endure for many many many years.)

But it did NOT keep me out of the local shops where,
during the 80's, I was able to make myself look like a
flamboyant pirate. Reminiscing of those glitter days gone
by. But on the other hand about 2 years ago, I walked into
two of my favorite "glam shops." Oddly they were still
open. But one had become an alternative goth/emo kid kind
of place and the other had become a vegan clothing store. I
left heartbroken.

Ahh the joy of memories.

But on this day, on my way to a date, I became a man with a
purpose. I had, what one Wakko Warner (from the
Animaniacs) had so eloquently stated as "a potty

I parked the car, and headed towards the mall. I had stated
that I had been a mall rat in a previous decade I knew the lay
of the land. I knew the secret handshake. I would be
returning to my former hang out as a former ambassador of
the mall and not as a tourist. I knew this all to be true
because I had spent so many afternoons and weekends here.
I would be mistaken.

You know I have realized that most of my 'adventures' begin
with those four words hehehe,,,ooooh boy.

In my absence of the sacred land of retail, I had come to the
hard realization that the mall had gone the way of
"Desperate Housewives" and had some work done. It was
barely recognizable.

The restrooms that were just inside the door had been
removed and relocated. Which sent me into "OH MY GOD,
I'M NOT GOING TO MAKE IT!!!!!" mode.

So after that horrible reality punch to try locate the restrooms.

After a very quick glance at the "You are Here." thingy I was
able to deduce where the bathrooms were.

Anxiety began to rear it's ugly little head. It was now a race
against time. This was a horrible feeling, because I was now
doing that shuffle/butt clench speed walk that is very similar
to the pee pee dance but nowhere near as graceful.

After a trek through 1/3 of the mall I found my Atlantis. I had located my Arc of the Covenant. I had found the bathrooms where I wasted no time in my race for the open hands of the porcelain god.

I have always had a fear of using the stalls and coming out
after a particular, let's just call it an episode and seeing someone I know.

Not to brag, but I was in fine form this day. I believe I was
the top of my game. This was one of those epic moments
that would have sent men, women, and children believing it
was the apocalypse. There were grunts, labored breathing,
pungent aromas, and there was statements ending in OH MY

Like I said it was EPIC.

After my grueling...episode, like a lone warrior who has battled an army, I emerged victorious. I opened the stall door like I OWNED it. I did a slightly satisfied saunter towards the sins to wash my hands, like a warrior washing his hands in the blood of his victims. I was proud and relieved.

I was most happy.

While washing my hands I started to notice a certain things in the reflections of the mirrors...

1. I don't remember the mens rooms being so...PINK
2. Hey where are the urinals?
3. Hey whats hanging on the wall?

The temperature in the room raised a good 20 degrees. "OH SHI..." was the current thought that had started to manifest itself in my now really frightened three young ladies walked into the restroom.

There was a deafening silence as we all just stared at each other.

I still don't know where or how the next few moments ever
occurred but they did. Now boys and girls...I must reiterate
my opening statement just so you know where in the story I am...

Have you ever done something so stupid that you make exponentially worse by lying and, your only hope is that there are no witnesses and if there are, that they don't remember?

OK we on the same page? OK, I'll continue.

I pulled out my wallet and did the flipping open and closed thing like it was a badge and I said "Hello, I'm sorry for the awkwardness of this situation, but there was a complaint that there was a guy in here doing some inappropriate activities and I was just investigating it. It's all clear now, I'm just washing my hands and I'll be out in two seconds."

At that moment, the "scent of evidence" from my activities
became apparent. I wished the young ladies a good day and
walked out of the restroom. At the same time that there was
a small mob of women coming to use the same bathroom I
just exited. With my head down, I walked past them.

Glancing back there were a few confused looks that were directed at me. Then I heard "OH it's OK, there was a
complaint about someone doing stuff in here...I think he's a cop."

I froze in my tracks.

I wanted to go back there and tell them that it was an accident. I just walked into the wrong room, and when I realized what I did I got scared and when the girls came in I became really scared. I wanted to make sure my name was clear.

But I didn't. Later that day I called my cousin, who was a security guard at the same mall, and I told him what happened. He laughed so hard he actually dropped the phone.

Today that cousin is a cop, and to bust my chops and every
now and then, he'll call to me as he's walking out of the
bathroom, pull out his wallet, flash his badge and just laugh at me.

Gotta love them memories.


Currently listening:
Antichrist Superstar
By Marilyn Manson
Release date: 1996-10-08

Dec 16, 2008


"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."
Albert Einstein

I believe there is some quote or proverb that says something about life and experience being two of the greatest teachers we can learn from.
But when it comes to those particular lessons, I must have either skipped out of class or had a substitute teacher.

This journey starts way back in the first grade. I was rummaging around the pantry for some tasty goodies. I noticed a shiny wrapped object, which warranted further investigation. Upon further investigation, what I discovered was akin to finding a light saber.

I have always been a firm believer in the "if it looks like (fill in the blank) and smells like (fill in the blank), then by all evidence presented it should be (fill in the blank)."

Baking chocolate does not subscribe to this philosophy. As a matter of fact, baking chocolate laughs in the face of that philosophy. It mocks it while wearing monkey pants. But I believe I am digressing.

It smells like a delicious chocolate bar. It looks like one of the biggest chocolate bars I had ever seen. So with my first grade understanding of these simple and basic truths, this was going to be one of the greatest chocolate experiences in my life.

I was mistaken.

I can still remember acrid bitterness after the first three chews. The conflicting moments between my taste buds screaming "THIS IS NOT CHOCOLATE...SPIT IT OUT NOW!!!!" while my brain was pleading in a whiny tone to my taste buds "BUT IT LOOKED AND SMELLED LIKE CHOCOLATE! IT'S NOT MY FAULT."

Luckily I had the wherewithal to trust my taste buds and make a mad dash to the sink where I proceeded to spit the remains out.

You know those moments alarming clarity that seem to sneak up on you? I am about to have two of those moments.
1. I had not yet learned the fine art of spitting.
2. I couldn't reach the sink properly.

As a five, almost six, year old lad, I was a little bit on the pudgy and short side. On a good day and with some planning I could do the infamous run and jump that all young lads and lassies do when there are vertical obstacles.

This would not be one of my good days.

Luckily, the apartment my mom and I lived in had a very tiny kitchen so I was able to take a step, grab a chair, pull it over, climb on it and do that dribble spit thing that children are oft to do, into the sink.

There was a moment of illumination while leaning over the sink and spitting out the bitterness that had overwhelmed my unsuspecting tongue; my mouth had been open during my baking chocolate ordeal.

Allow me to paint by number a picture for you. As I stare at the mess in the sink, on my shirt, shoes, on the chair, and all over the floor I begin to cry, which wakes up my mother. Her first reaction is of course to be quite upset, but settled down pretty quick. There was no parental punishment to be dealt out this time.

My mother believed I had learned from my mistake.

I would prove her wrong.

It happened while I was living in El Paso, Texas when I was 8 years old and I had a hankering for something sweet. So again I explore the pantry. And again I find a chocolate bar. I had this tingly sensation that I had been at this crossroads before.

I chalked it up to guilt.

Until I took that first bite.

My fourth grade mind vividly remembered my first grade experience. BUT this time things would be different.

First I remembered to keep my mouth shut, tight.

Secondly I was finally tall enough to be able to spit out the horrendous reminder into the sink.

Third I had mastered the spitting technique. I had actually won a few spitting contests on the playground during recess.

Of course this would be the exact moment my mom would walk in the door.
With a mixture of horror, wonder, and disappointment she asked me why I didn't learn my lesson the first time I had done this.

I simply said "I just thought the other one was a bad batch of chocolate."

The horror and wonder left her face. The disappointment lingered while she said "I sure hope you learned your lesson this time."

I would prove her wrong.


I was a senior in high school and I was taking a home economics cooking class. The teacher had on some occasion brought in chocolate treats for her students. We had broken up into cooking teams and she starts to hand out some chocolate bars. Ms. Teacher and I were on the same page of the book, although her interpretation was very different than mine.

She begins to say "This is baking chocolate, and not very good to eat."

I heard 'This is..' as I was biting into what is now my third foray into the consumption of this deceptive food product.

Only the look of pain on my face gave any indication that I had done something stupid.

It became felony stupid when I decided to tell my mom about my home economics experience. This time her expression was simply disbelief, mixed with a touch of "he seems so bright, and then he does this".

"Are you ever going to learn?" my mother asked me. I don't know which was more humbling. Her asking me that question or the fact that you could almost hear the last embers of hope quickly growing cold.

"Yes mother. I have learned my lesson."

Seven years later I see it in the pantry.


I walk away.

I know it tastes bad.

I know the disappointment I will suffer if I take a bite.

I remember first grade and the shame.

I remember fourth grade and embarrassment.

I remember 12th grade and the look I got.

Somehow with all this going through my wasted grey matter, I somehow forget that it tastes like absolute shite, I grab it and take a bite. I, of course, proceed to spit it out.

This time I do not tell my mother. I don't want to hear her heart break.

Now what does all of this have to do with today.

Yesterday, I was helping my mom clean out her pantry. Take a guess what was in there.

I am sitting here typing out this story to remind myself that taking a bite of unsweetened baking chocolate is not a good idea.


I wonder...

Editor's note:
I, the wife, just read this. I guess I'd better hide the baking chocolate I bought this afternoon for Christmas cookies. Otherwise, I have a sneaking suspicion it will go missing, and I'll never EVER know where it went.

Jul 24, 2008


We got most of the moving done, and we'll be finishing up the rest over the weekend. Then it'll take a couple weeks of unpacking and getting the new place in order. So I'm hoping that if everything goes well, I'll be back full time around mid August.

Secondly I want to thank Jeanine for the wonderful things she said about my blogs. When I first read her words I was completely speechless.

Well, I am not speechless anymore.

When I started writing these little wastes of space, I was usually drinking and/or drunk and very angry.

Then as time passed I just started writing random things that were happening to me at that time.

As more time went by, I started writing some stories that shaped the man I am right now. I write about my world in general.

Now my world includes a person who took time out to say some nice things about what I do here. Not only did Jeanine pimp my blog out, she did it without any begging or pleading from me but, because she likes what I write.

I will forever be thankful for that. Any writer wants to know what people think of their words that are strung together. I'm no different.

Of course now, I'm going to worry about the quality and caliber of my writing, but that's a good thing. What she said will challenge me to continue to improve and expand on my writing.

I thanked her in an email and in a comment, and now I thank her in a blog. It seems only fitting because it was through blogs that we have become friends.

Jul 18, 2008


A week goes by and it's time for me to step back into White and Orange Romper Room for my buddies birthday party.

There were six men in our "Party Animal" Entourage.

As we all stepped into the lobby/hallway area of Hooters (you might remember me talking about this area -This was the spot where "I was greeted with all of these pictures and posters of all these lovely and "blessed" women garbed in tight white t-shirts and orange shorts"), because of my previous bragging escapade, I led the group being the perennial expert of all things Hooters (the restaurant not the body part).

Much to my dismay it was the same hostess I met the prior week, and she recognized me. She says "Well hello again. You sure wasted no time coming back."

Internally - I groaned. I just wanted to crawl under a rock to rot away and become an all you can eat buffet for the worms that are said to frequent under said rock.

Externally - I said "Well this time I'm here because it's my buddy's birthday and what place better is there to start a birthday party then at Hooters?"

She laughed and looked at my friend and said "Well then let me be the first to person at Hooters to wish you a Happy Birthday." And she gave him a dazzling smile.

He said "Thank you." and giggled like a school girl.

She led us to our table and tells us our waitress will be with us in a minute. We all choose a place to sit our collected fat asses down. The birthday boy looks over at me and asks me what, if anything, I know about the hostess. Without thinking I answer "I know she just turned 18 recently, and I think she's here most Fridays." The guys all looked at me like I was this shaman of cool (which I am SO not).

After that our waitress shows up, looks at the table, sees me and says "Hi Jose, how are you?"

Internally - I groaned. I just wanted to crawl under a rock to rot away and become an all you can eat buffet for the worms that are said to frequent under said rock, again.


I have this habit of introducing myself to people who introduce themselves. For example (and since I can't remember her name, so for the sake of this blog we'll call her "Andi")...

"Hi I'm Andi and I'll be your server today."

"Well, howdy Andi, I'm Jose and this is _______ (whoever happens to be with me that day)."

I do this because many many years ago my mother taught me three simple rules.

1. Be polite and respectful to the people who handle your food. You never know if they might do something to it.

2. Be polite and respectful to the people who cut your hair, because they control how good or bad you new look will be.

3. Be polite and respectful to the people who you fall asleep with, because while you are asleep, you have no control over what might happen while you slumber.


Externally - I say "Hi Andi, I'm doing good, but not as good as the birthday boy here though. How have you been?"

She says, "I'm doing good."

Looks over to my friend and says, "and a happy birthday to you."

He says "Thank you."

She asks me "Should we start you with a pitcher of beer like last time?"

I say "Let's make two pitchers, and I don't think some of us have looked at the menu yet." (god, I sound like a pompous ass don't I?)

"Ahh, so I'm dealing with a table that's easily distracted, huh. OK, I'll be back with the beer in just a minute, OK?"

She walked away. The fellas immediately opened up the menus so they would be ready to order when she returned with our libations. When she had gone far enough away from our table, the inquisition began.

"What do you know about her?" "How old is she?" "How often DO you come here?"

"Aren't they all a little young?" Ouch.

I knew one of them would ask me something like that. Me being the "OMG she's just a kid!", when discussing actresses who were in my opinion, recently out of diapers.

At this point I really had two choices. I could come clean, be honest, and expose the web that I had spun two weeks before. Or I could continue with the charade. I chose the latter.

"Andi" returned with the beer and asked if I was going to have the burger again?

Internally - Damnit!! How on earth can I have the bad luck of having a waitress with a mind like a steel trap. Normally I would love this, but that night I wanted this horror to end.

Externally - "Sure that sounds good."

The rest of the guys, ordered their food, and away she went again.

"I thought you didn't like looking at the young ones?"

I looked at each and every one of the guys and said "Have you seen me look around at all? No? It's because I don't sit here and ogle at every waitress. When I do come here, I'm usually with a friend, where we sit and have a conversation."

This was the truth, because the week before I was there with Mike and we did have a conversation. It was about how to get out of this mess I had gotten myself into, but it was a non-ogling conversation.

"The times when I come alone, I'm usually reading a book or a comic."

Which is also another truth...sort of. Back in DISAPPOINTMENT 2 - THE FINAL SPOT-LITE, I made a reference to a strip club "that would end up to be and still is my favorite." I would frequent this establishment during the noon hours for a few reasons.

1. They made one KILLER burger.

2. It wasn't very busy.

3. The dancers chose and played the music. Which was really good music

4. The bar itself was situated in a way that there was a section that was completely blind to the stage, where one could enjoy the beer, the burger, the music and even read a book or a comic. Which I started doing when I realized how young some of the dancers looked.

"So can we just drop this and just have a good time? Sheesh."

"Andi" came back with our food. They ate and laughed. Some of the guys made the usual guy comments and some leered on the sly.

I concentrated on my burger. I am a guy, and I try really hard not to be a complete pig. I admit I have some piggish moments, but for the most part I try to be a good man.

The girls started to come over to do some song/clapping thing for the birthday boy, and I excused myself. Because, as we all know, beer makes you pee. So I went to the bathroom. When I got back they were done, and everybody in our group were ready to go our separate ways.

They all chipped in and took off pretty quickly. Birthday boy, said thanks for a great night and went on his merry way.

I grabbed all the money and counted it. And then I recounted it.


I was 30 bucks short. How could they? Rotten bastards. Thank god they were my friends and I could get back at them, but someone still stuck me with their part of the bill. I was so pissed off. Thankfully I had the money to cover it, but I was still mighty pissed.

That was when "Andi" showed up. I asked her why she remembered me? It was a thought that had plagued me the entire evening.

"Because you and your friend last week, had actually talked to me and you guys were nice and polite. You guys were my first table since I had just finished the training the day before. Since then I've had customers that were slobbish and some that were nice, but you two were the only guys who were polite. So when you walked in I remembered you."


I said thanks, paid my bill, doubled the tip, and I left.

I went back a few more times that year, usually with a book, and I always asked if I could be seated in "Andi's" section. It was a good feeling knowing that I was remembered for something positive. It was also a good feeling knowing that I was there visiting someone who could be classified as a friend.

Than one day I went to Hooters and found out she wasn't working there anymore. I knew this day was coming, because she had mentioned going back to college on different occasions.

She had finally moved on to greener pastures.

I was disappointed that I never got to thank her for making me realize that I am not such a bad person.

This would be a lesson I forgot for a long time.


Jul 17, 2008


The following year, a friend was going to celebrate his birthday and he didn't know where he wanted to go. Another friend suggested Hooters

of course this was the hands down favorite among the guys.

I had never been to a Hooters and neither had the birthday boy. He hemmed and hawed about not wanting to be surrounded by strippers (which of course made me to gasp out in surprise, 'who DOESN'T want to be surrounded by strippers?' I remembered the Dino episodes, of course, but I kept those horror stories to myself.). Being one of the more vocal member of of our particular little clan of "party animals" (said with more sarcasm than Hollywood has silicone), I talked it up like I was seasoned pro and, finally convinced him that into having his celebration among the buxom beauties in orange by saying I would pay for him.

His birthday was two weeks away. That means I had less than 14 days to actually go there, so I could act the part of the above mentioned season pro.

I was caught in my web of deceit (who didn't see THAT coming?). Since I had never been to a Hooters, I needed someone to go there with. I couldn't ask the "party animals" because they had all been there when I said how awesome it was, and to ask them would expose me to ridicule. I know it would have been deserved, but like most men, I just didn't want to hear about it.

I convinced my friend Mike to come with me. Yes, the same Mike from the Cheetahs debacle. Because he was a long time friend, I told him about my predicament. He agreed to go, but I had to pay for him.

Which basically means I was committed to treating two people, to a place I have never been to and not knowing what to expect.

That weekend, Mike and I headed to Hooters.

Upon entering, I was greeted with all of these pictures and posters of all these lovely and "blessed" women garbed in tight white t-shirts and orange shorts.



I did not notice the Hostess. There was a young girl wearing a white polo shirt who stood by the inside door though.

During this moment in time I was 26-27 years old, and this girl looked like she was 16, so I took her for the busboy...ahh I mean busgirl. When she asked us "How many in your party?" I was a bit stunned. Mike answered "Just us, and we would like smoking."

She said "Well follow me."

I asked her "Umm, just how old are you?"

She replied "I just turned 18."

"Oh OK." That was all I could say.

Let me explain why anything ending in "teen" unnerves me so much.

For the first 12 1/2 years of my existence I was an only child. Except for every other weekend. That's when my step-brother would stay with us, but I really don't count that. At age 12 1/2 my sister came into the world.

Now if we fast forward the years when I am 26-27 years old my baby sister would be 14-15 years old. Which makes 18 years old look awful young.


This age discrepancy has ruined a whole lot of things for me. Like Playboy. It's so disturbing to see girls who are the same age or younger than my baby sister, displayed for the whole world to see. It makes me feel like a "perverted old man." When Smallville started some of the "party animals" made comments about Allison Mack and Kristen Kreuk (both 19 years old at the time playing the part of a 16 year olds), being so "HOT!" and it just creeped me out.


So the youngling sat us and after a few minutes our waitress approached the table.

Here was yet another "teen."

We ordered a pitcher of beer, a burger for yours truly, and Mike had the hot wings.

As I looked around I noticed a small trend. None of the girls here looked like slightly more mature women in the photos from the lobby. Most of them would definitely fit into the "awww isn't she cute" (said in the tone normally reserved for puppies and small children) category.

I looked at the patrons of the restaurant leering and gawking and thought to myself "Yes sir God, we are all going to hell, and I'll lead the way."

Our food arrived very quickly, which was a god thing because the faster we ate, the faster we could get out of there.

The food was OK. Nothing at all to brag about.

I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. I felt like a dirty old man.

Knowing I would be back in a week, made me feel even dirtier.


Jul 13, 2008


A few years after the "Belly and the Bottle" incident at the Spot, I decided to see if things had changed at all.

Yes, I am a glutton for punishment.

No, I am not a fast learner.

I asked my girlfriend at the time (after this I will refer to her as "the ex") if she wanted to go with me.  She completely surprised me by saying "Why not.  This way I can see what the big deal with strip clubs is all about."

We went to the Spot, but somethings had changed.

The place had been bought, remodeled, renamed and the talent had been upgraded.  I was shocked, to say the least.

The Spot-lite had been turned into a pretty decent establishment.  It was clean.  I forgot to mention previously that hygiene and cleanliness was not that big on the Spot's list of must do activities.  It actually had a stage, well it was more of a riser but, still technically a stage.  The bar itself was a separate entity, where the fear of getting a stripper heel

in your drink or knocking over an ash tray was no longer a concern

It had about 75 or so patrons of all legal age groups.

There were nine dancers and not a single scar or "belly covering thong" was present.  They were all attractive and could actually dance.

The two bartenders were both young and very good at their trade.  Which means I did not have to wait for a single drink.  I was thinking "Well alright.  My bad strip club mojo has finally ended."  (Ironically, the next strip club I would go to would end up to be, and still is, my favorite place for my 3B's.

Boobies, beers,

and burgers.)

The ex and I find a seat at the bar with a good view of the stage, when one of the dancers comes over and starts talking to us.

Besides one of the bartenders and the exotic dancers, the ex was the only female in there.  I jokingly said, "You're the only girl in here not getting paid."  The ex did not find that funny, but I was giggling like a ten year old who hears the teacher say penis.

The dancer asked us the usual questions that dancers ask as they non-verbally demand their tip.

Her - "How are you guys doing?"

Me - "I'm good and yourself?"  I learned from my B & B Adventure with Mike that being polite and using manners is always a good way to start a conversation with a half nekkid lady that you just met.

The ex - "Fine."

Her - "Did/are you enjoying the show?"

Me - "We walked in at the tail end of your routine, so we didn't really catch it."  I learned from Dino, that if you say that to the dancer, it's a "get out of tipping" comment.  Usually reserved for the ones who did not put on a good performance, or if you REALLY did just walk in.

The ex - "Sorry, I was to busy looking for an open bar spot."

Her - "Is this your first time here?"

Me - "Well I was here when it was just the Spot, but the place looks great now."  I learned from Dino, always compliment the establishment.  You never know if you'll be back, or if you'll run across the same dancer at another establishment.

The ex - "Yes.  I wanted to see what the big deal with strip clubs was."

Her - "Well I'll be back on stage in about an hour, I hope you stick around."

Me - "Well my calender is clear."  Insert laugh here.

The ex - "I guess."

So we sat there, drinking our alcoholic beverages of choice and another dancer came around after her set to non-verbally demand her tip and, she pretty much asked the same questions with the exception of the "back on stage" comment.

The answers stayed more or less the same.

Next thing I know the first dancer sits next to the ex and starts talking to her.  They are laughing and talking which results in yours truly able to enjoy the current performer on the stage.

For some unknown reason I get this feeling, like something isn't kosher.

The dancer and the ex are still deep in conversation.  Yet my spider sense is tingling.

The current dancer finishes her set, and does the walk around.  She get's to the area where the ex, the first dancer, and I are sitting and she joins in their conversation.

She gets her tip.

Looks at me and goes "Hi."

Me - "Hello.  So are you having a good night?"

Her 3 - "It's pretty good."


I give her the tip.

Her 3 - "Thank you."

Me - "You're..."

She walks to the next eager patron.

Me - "welcome."

That funny feeling I had before, is starting to become I wait and see if it happens again.

Dancers 4, 6, and 8 all ask the usual questions.

Dancers 5, 7, and 9 do not.

I glance over at the ex and notice that she and dancer 1 are still talking.

Then the light bulb finally illuminates those dark crevices of thought.

The motions, the laughs, the hair twirling, the glancing touches, I know I have seen this all before.  It's the things that girls who are flirting do.

I wave the bartender over, order a drink and I casually ask him "So five of the dancers are lesbians aren't they?"

Bartender - "Uh yeah, five of the girls ARE gay."

Me - "The one talking to the ex is too, isn't she?"

Bartender - "Yeah, she is."  Insert bartender laugh.

Her - "I gotta get ready for my set."

The ex - "OK."

Dancer 1 leaves.

Me - "The ex, you do realize she's been flirting with you."

The ex - "What?!"

Me - "Ask the bartender."

The ex - "Is she...?"

Bartender - "Yeah"  Insert bartender laugh...again "She is."

And you can see the realization come across the ex's face.

The ex - "Jose, we ARE leaving now."

Me - "Umm OK."

Why was there an "umm" moment?  Because it dawned on me, that the ex was getting hit on, and I was chopped liver.  The ex was getting real flirt action, while your unsung hero, wasn't even getting fake flirt action.  Which is quite a massive blow to the frail male ego.

I have never returned to the Spot/Spot-lite.


Jul 12, 2008


A few years later (six to be precise) Dino would come to the land of Miller Beer, cheese heads and brats (the sausage not, the unruly kids) for a week in the summer.  By then yours truly finally had some drinking and strip club experience under his belt and remembering the filthy little hovel that Dino had taken me to so many years earlier, I had devised a plan.  Well, OK, it was more like revenge, but come the end of the day I knew he would get the joke.  HEH!

There was this place called The Spot, and it was a horrid little place, with overpriced beers (even by strip clubs standards) and lackluster performers (of the unattractive and out of shape sort).  How did I find this place?  Let me share this story.


My friend Mike was on leave from the army during Christmas and we decided to go to see some boobies.  I only knew where one club was, so Mike decided to look in the phone book to see if there were others in the area.

I did not know that strip clubs advertised in the phone book.  For some reason I found that bit of information completely hilarious.  As I am typing this I am still giggling about that.

We ripped out the page that had the listings and went on this quest for beer and breasts.  The first place we went to was a place called Heart Breakers.  It was just like the Motley Crue's "Girls Girls Girls" video but it was so crowded that it took forever to get a beer.  I am the kind of guy that if I have to wait for a beer, it's an automatic rejection from me.

I know that there were breasts being shimmied and exposed but if I have to wait five minutes for a beer, well that's just unacceptable.  After about an hour we went to the next place on our B & B Adventure.

We arrived at a place called Cheetahs.

There was this moment while we were walking through the Lincoln Town car and Cadillac filled parking lot that I had a feeling that this may not be such a wise decision.  We approached this very nondescript building and all kinds of alarms were going off in my head, BUT I was committed.

At the door, there was a list of rules.  No Beepers, no fur, no sport caps, no guns/knives/brass knuckles (this one made me very VERY concerned), and no use of illegal drugs.  I looked at Mike and he just shrugged his shoulders and said "How bad can it be?"

We opened the door, and I honestly saw the biggest black man I have ever seen.  And by biggest I meant 6'9" - 6'10" and had arms bigger than my thighs, without flexing.  He looked at us...pulled out a hand held metal detector and proceeded to metal detect us.  During this I was watching his arms get bigger and bigger.  He saw me staring, grinned and made a muscle.  He flexed his muscle and I kid you not, his arm doubled in size.

He asked us if we were going to make any trouble and in that instant I remembered every bit of courtesy and good manners my mother had ever taught me and I honestly replied in a very meek voice "No sir, I promise you will get no problems from me."

He laughed and said "Have a good time boys."

In that same meek voice I said "Yes sir, anything you say."

He laughed again, we paid the cover charge and he told us that they have a two drink minimum and then he opened the second door.

Before I get to the actual experience inside this establishment, I have to describe Mike and myself during this time period.  Mike was one of those guys who is very white, like Larry Byrd white, with a military haircut.  More or less he looked pretty clean cut.

I was still emulating Nikki Sixx.  I was this Mexican with long ratty/spiky hair, hoop earrings, and black eyeliner.

OK, you have those images in your head?  Good.

Mike and I walked in the second door.  Where I was witness to another dive, and a dive whose entire clientèle, employees and dancers were all African Americans.

Mike was leading the way, and they gave him this cursory glance, but when their peepers got a hold of me, the glaring and dirty looks commenced immediately and would continue for the 35 minutes we were there.  I was the one who was on the receiving end of the cold (as in iceberg cold) and unwelcome glares.  Needless to say I had never finished the 2 drink minimum in under five minutes before that particular evening.  That night I also found out I had the super human ability to have 6 beers and 4 or 5 shots in 35 minutes.  Not even the dancers came by me.  The only person who treated me somewhat decently was the bartender.

35 minutes came and went and we we're on our way.

Next we went to The Spot.  I was in there for a couple of minutes and I had flashbacks to my Juarez experience, and I thought to myself if Dino ever comes up to visit I'm bringing him here. (I'll be going into details about this establishment during the "REVENGE" portion of this blog)

The night ended there, thankfully.  I didn't know how many more disappointing strip clubs I could endure.


Six or so months later, Dino was here.  I suggested we should go out for drinks, and that I had found this awesome place he would just absolutely love.  Since Dino and I are very alike, he wholeheartedly agreed.  I again did my Nikki Sixx emulation process, and Dino did his "going out" getup which is best described as part Guido and part Goth.

We got there around 9 P.M. which for strip clubs is usually the time when it starts to get busy.

The Spot was hopping.  When we walked in we doubled the clientele.  There were these two old guys who were playing cards with the bartender who looked like Crazy Cooter from the Dukes of Hazzard but nowhere near as friendly.

We both take a seat at the bar just as one of the the dancers hits the stage.

The stage was a piece of construction beauty.  It was a part of the bar with extensions to make it about 6' by 9' with a pole in the middle.  The bar was one of those oblong things, so when a dancer is done with her routine, she actually walks around to collect tips on the bar itself.

The performer was sheer magic.  She had a beer belly.  Not the cute little belly that some girls have.  It was the kind that actually hid part of her thong.  She also had some less than flattering scars and an unfinished and faded belly tattoo that was supposed to be a unicorn, but now kind of looked like a bull (I know this because I asked her).

After her routine, she did the bar walk.

She got to where Dino and I were sitting and she took an immediate liking to Dino.  She was flirting and making small talk with my cousin.

She asked him where he was from.

He said Dallas.

She said (and folks I can't make this up) "So where's that?  Is it in Wisconsin?"

I started laughing, and Dino had this incredulous look on his face.

He said "No, it's in Texas."

She said "Wow, there's a Dallas WI, and a Dallas TX, that's incredible."  Then she picked up his bottle of beer, licks the bottle seductively, places it in between her breasts (while resting it on the previously mentioned beer belly) starts dancing with it, let's go of her breasts and shimmies and shakes with this "licked" beer bottle resting on her belly.

I tip her for her hard work, and Dino just sits there watching her as she puts his beer back down on the bar.  He tips her.  She walks around the bar and looks back at Dino and blows him a kiss.  Afterwards she walks into the back room.

My cousin immediately pulls out his wallet, puts a buck on the bar and tells me "We're getting the fuck out of her...RIGHT NOW!!"

I ask why he's not finishing his beer.  He physically shudders and just walks out the door.

I bust out laughing and follow him out.

He asks me "Why the hell did you bring me here?"

"Do you remember the place you took me to in Juarez?  Consider this payback.  Which makes us even."

He just stares at me, then punches me in the sternum, starts laughing and says "You're right, we are so even."

Yes, it's true folks, sometimes revenge is best when it served cold.  Or at least when it's served by a scary looking chick, who licks bottles.  Heh.

Jun 29, 2008


By the guy that brings you



Rules of Marriage - Twittering about the crime for your own personal amusement doesn't help either. It's akin to adding gasoline to flame.


Rules of Marriage - Stealing your partners ice cold beverage (the last one in the house) is not a very good way to start an 85 degree day.


In my previous blog I just totally flaked out. The closing paragraph read as such...

"Later that year my cousin would take me to Hooters and to Juarez, Mexico. Where again disappointment would rear it's ugly head. But that's a story for later."

Yet, this is how it was supposed to read:

"Later that year my cousin would take me to Juarez, Mexico, where again disappointment would rear it's ugly head, and the tale of my first time at Hooters. But that story comes later.

Sorry for the confusion.

I guess one could safely say that I can't proofread for crap.  Anybody know any proofreaders and/or editors who would be willing to see me slaughter the English language, and then try and help me fix it?  Volunteers and people who work for cheap (Free) just message me...thanks.
(Yeah this is actually kind of serious)

Since that particular snafu is cleared up, let's continue down the highway that leads to Disappointment 2...

Later that year the family and I headed down to El Paso, TX for a summer vacation.

Because heading down to Texas in the middle of summer is always a brilliant EFFIN idea.

I guess waiting for spring, late fall or even winter was completely out of the question.  Instead we went down in the middle of summer.  Which is akin to standing in the path of a "Flaming Broccoli Fart Coming From The Bowels Of Hell!!!"

My cousin Emilio (Emmy) had all these things planned out that we would be doing as a family and as house guests.

My cousin Dino, of course, had other plans.

Dino, who is three years old than yours truly, has always had a bit of a wild streak in him. This encounter would be no different.

But I am getting way ahead of myself. First I have to tell you about the trip itself.

We drove to El Paso, TX from Waukesha, WI.

"We" consisted of mom, step-dad, step-bro, half sister (who was still small and young enough to require a car seat) and of course, your unsung hero...Me!

We would travel by Pontiac Phoenix.

A Pontiac Phoenix, that's what 5 people endured a cross country trek in.

A Pontiac Phoenix who during the course of this trip, we needed to get a tire, because the retread was falling apart, before we even got out of IL.

A Pontiac Phoenix who decided that this would be the most opportune time to have the air conditioner malfunction to the point of needing to be replaced.

A Pontiac Phoenix who decided on the return trip, that this would be an opportune moment to have the "replaced" air conditioner caused the car to over heat...3 times.

If it wasn't for the portable cassette player I brought along, I would have killed someone.

If Poison, Whitesnake, Ratt and Motley Crue had not been on this trip, there would have been a headline somewhere that said "Teenager Kills Family - Blames it on "The M****R F*****G air conditioner!"

The 1500+ mile (straight) venture into what was quickly becoming my very own personal hell.  Then we arrived in El Paso.

If it wasn't the car working against us, Mother Nature decided to join in the fun.  Amid downpours that caused us to cease all forward movement and  coyote's doing suicide sprints across the interstate, some higher power did NOT want us to get to El Paso.

We would be spending the week at my aunt's home.

As I previously mentioned Emmy would be our tour guide/host for the week.

Emmy was already there with his wife when the Phoenix limped in from it's ordeal on the Highways and Interstates of America.

Dino showed up roughly 2 hours later.

Emmy and step-dad took the car to the garage so that the repairs could be made.

Step-bro and I decided to jump into the pool to get rid of the "Been in a car too long" funk and mom, aunt and sis were in air conditioned splendor.

After a  few hours Emmy and step-dad returned and the Phoenix with a new AC and 4 brand new tires.

Emmy informed us that we were going to go to Carlsbad Caverns the next day.  (yay...another 150+ miles in that damn car...effin...yay).

Dino asked me if I wanted to hang with him and one of his buds.

16 year old kid asked to hang out with  two19 year olds... I SAID OOOOH HELL YEAH!!!!

Mom heard him ask me, and she volunteered the Phoenix to be the party car (albeit, she did not know it would be a party car).

Oh F**K, I can spend MORE time in THAT car.

About an hour or so and we were on our way OUT.


On our way to pick up his friend, we stopped at a gas station, filled up with gas, I bought cigarettes (heh), and Dino gave me his fake ID. He was going to be using his real one.  He told me not to let the bouncers look too long at it or they'd realize there were two IDs for the same person, his and mine.

Dino looked at me and said, "Manny, were going Juarez, to hit a few bars. Drinking age there is 18.  But don't do anything stupid and when we get home, don't tell your parents."

Being the cool as ice future rock star I said, "OK!!  Boy that sure does sound like fun!" with a huge grin on my face.  See how smooth I was...

Of course, to get ready for drinking, we needed "a base."

I had no idea what that meant, luckily Dino was there to explain the inner workings of bar hopping.

We headed to Whataburger where we got something to eat, which for the record really, REALLY sucked. "Base food doesn't need to be good, it just needs to be filling, that's why were eating an hour and a half before we hit the bars.  That way you won't get drunk as fast."  Made sense to me...I had no clue what he was talking about, but he was buying dinner and I was cool with that.

We picked up his buddy, got some cash and headed to Juarez, Mexico.



The first bar we went to was called Porky's..


No, I'm not kidding.  It really was called Porky's.

This is the first beer I ever drank in a bar.  OK, not a fan of Meeler Liiite.

It's 2/3rds gone, and I don't care, this is the best beer I ever had.  I like beer.  And look, the goofy grin makes it's appearance.

After an hour or so, Dino looked at me and smiled, really, really big...think Cheshire cat...then think rabid wombat.  "We're taking him." is all Dino said.  His bud, started grinning and heartily agreed.

We left Porky's and headed down the street.  We went a couple of blocks and we stopped in front of a non-descript building, and we walked in.

My eyes got huge; the goofy grin makes it's 3rd appearance of the night.  From the doorway, I could see a girl dancing and she appeared...yes, she was topless, and starting to work on the bottoms.  I was a happy boy.

I was completely enveloped in new found HAPPINESS.

The bartender headed over to ask us for our ID's.  He took one good look at me and told Dino, that all my drinks were double priced.  I guess he must have some kind of amazing mental ability to see past my mature exterior and surmised that I might be falsely representing my age.

Dino looked at me and said "Will you please wipe that goofy grin of your face.  He's letting us stay but your drinks are double price.


He asked us for our drink order and I was about to have my 4th beer of the night.

Before I go any further, I need to describe the current situation.  The bartender looked just like Danny Trejo except with a beer gut. He had all the tattoos, was shirtless, and wearing sunglasses.  And looked like he could really do some damage to a person.  Dino ordered us three beers. I was awfully scared of this guy. 

My new found happiness was beginning to wane.

With Dino leading the way, we started to approach the stage where the now completely naked woman was dancing away.

Then closer we got to the stage the more my new found happiness was becoming memory.

I'm not saying the girl were unattractive, but WELL...SHE WAS UNATTRACTIVE.

Suddenly Dino started laughing uncontrollably and pointed across the room. Parked by the door to the strippers' dressing room was a stroller (thank God the baby wasn't in it, but the diaper bag was hanging on the handle). We all started laughing uncontrollably until a new dancer came out with obvious signs that her breasts had just been used for the primary purpose that breasts were designed for...

and there went the last kernel of new found happiness.

This day I learned that not all strip clubs looked like the kind you see in '80s T&A movies.

But some will look like the ones in '70s T&A movies where they go to Tijuana and expect to see a donkey show.

For the next 3 hours we watched nakedness go from bad to worse.

After that, anywhere was an improvement. We headed to the our last bar of this trip. It was OK, except for a couple who were all over each other. They had their tongues jammed down each others throats. I could deal with that. Then they pulled back, with their tongues imitating two snakes frolicking and undulating. At this point in my beer haze it made me throw up a little bit in my mouth. Afterward, we went to Jack in the Box and got food. It did not sit well in my tummy after a bunch of beers, the sad strip bar and the dancing snake show.


Jun 28, 2008


When I was much younger (and Spanish was my main language) there was a restaurant that we passed quite often.  Whenever we did, I would begin to giggle.

It was a Tex-Mex restaurant named Chi Chi-s.

Why did this make me giggle?

I guess before I can continue, I need to give a tiny little language lesson.  In Spanish the word chi chi's is a slang term meaning boobies.  Which is one of my favorite English words...I'm just saying is all.

Because of this auspicious name, this building became a place of great interest and importance.

Now we fast forward our tale to 1988 and I was 16 years old.

A friend named Chris regaled to me a wonderful tidbit of information.  "Jose" he said "last night we went to Chi Chi's for dinner and it was awesome the f..."

Trying to contain my excitement, I asked if they allowed teens in there?  (Of course in hindsight...)

"Yeah, why wouldn't they?"  That's right Chris, keep me in suspense...

"Dude we are going right now!"  As I proceeded to drag him to his car.

Chris was looking at me like I was insane, "Dude, are you OK?"

"Yeah man, I let's get going!"

With an ounce of trepidation he said OK, and then we were off.

I was stoked.

I was finally going to the promised land.

I was ready for this moment.

I was finally at the restaurant called boobies.  Or Chi-chi's to my American friends.

We walked in and I immediately began my search.  I looked near and far.


I looked at Chris "Dude?  Umm, where are the girls?"

Chris stared at me, confusion evident in his eyes.

The hostess sat us by the windows.

"Um Chris, there are girls here right?" as I began to notice that there were people of all types sitting at tables and in booths.  Eating something that resembled Mexican food.

Some guy asked what we wanted to drink.  Chris and I asked for a Coke.

I looked at the menu.

I looked at Chris, and asked him, "Why is this place awesome?"


"Earlier you said 'Jose last night we went to Chi Chi's for dinner and it was awesome the f..' what makes this place awesome?"

"They have the best Mexican food in town."


"Yeah the food here is great!"

That's when the disappointment sunk in.

Chris asked me what was wrong?

I told Chris what chi chi's meant in Spanish, and he laughed.

And laughed.

And Laughed.

"Well that sure explains why you freaked out when I said I was here."

Meekly I responded with a barely audible "yeah"

He laughed a little while longer.

After catching his breath he says "Well let's order our food, you'll love it."

When the food arrived disappointment number two hit me.  The food absolutely sucked.

Chris was in hog heaven, but when you get homemade Mexican food on a semi regular basis, restaurant food always falls a bit shy.

So we ate.

Then we paid.

Then we left.

I silently vowed that I would never again would I fall for a name like that again.

Later that year my cousin would take me to Hooters and to Juarez, Mexico.  Where again disappointment would rear it's ugly head.  But that's a story for later.

Jun 27, 2008


That, sadly, was a true moment that I had the unfortunate luck to not only witness BUT I was also a part of.


I said "But Hilary lost." The girl said "That's because she's dumb & I'm smart and you're a guy & and I could be the first girl 'precedent'."


At McDonald's I heard a girl say "I am like so smart, I could so be the president. I mean if Hilary could run well than I would totally win"


I am now working a first shift schedule and I am still getting used to it.

It is kicking my ass

like I was that skinny guy in that ad.  I wish Charles Atlas had a "get used to sleeping at night and waking up in the morning" advice, because I could sure use that.

If things keep going like they are, I should be back on here in a more timely fashion.

I'm also going to be moving in July.  SO if everything goes smoothly, I'll be back to a daily schedule after that.

That's about all I got today.

Jun 25, 2008


Rules of Marriage - No matter how long or short you're married...the toilet seat will always be a controversial subject...that you can't win


Getting used to first shift is kicking my ass...and greatly reducing my pornado central time.

Jun 23, 2008


Now it's time to throw money away on car maintenance, fueling up for the week and hoping that nothing bad happens to our loyal "steeds"


The weekend is over & back to the grind of working, cleaning packing & every little mundane activity that come with Mondays. YOIKS & AWAY!!!

Jun 22, 2008


Quote of the Day - "This place smells like swamp donkey!"

Jun 21, 2008


My wife just tried to beatbox. It's truly one of the saddest things ever. If there was ever proof of her lack of hip hop, this would be it.


You know it feels pretty good being behind my keyboard again. I think I will have to invest in a laptop very very soon.


If I can get a mechanical engineering degree, would that help me build a light saber?


Why is the movie "The Exorcist" so funny to me? Sue and were watching it, and I was cracking up. She was horrified...both at me & the movie.


When we move I'll finally have my den of iniquity. My wife will have something to say about that. Which means no den of iniquity for me. :(


Jun 18, 2008

TWITTER THOUGHTS my blog update for the day, enjoy


Well it seems that Jessica Simpson has officially enraged the tyrannical and militant terrorists...oops I mean PETA. I;m a "Whatever floats your boat." kind of guy. I really am. But there are times when I must exercise that "freedom of speech" thingy from that document signed by our fore fathers.

This is obviously a dig at her boy toys ex girlfriend Carie Underwood.  It's nothing more than a "you had your chance now he's mine" moment that ALL women do.  So what if she chooses steak and ribs over lettuce and tofu.  So do I.

When I first read that, my mind immediately surfaced right around the gutter, and I had a little chuckle.  I also know that Miss Underwood is also a VeggieHead (why I know THAT fact I'll never understand but I do) so it changed from a chuckle to a full blown "laugh out loud" moment.

Is it childish?  Yes.  Is it funny?  Absolutely.  Does it make me think any less of her?  Not even remotely possible, because I usually don't think about her at all!

Then PETA reared it's ugly head.

Now I am doing something I have never done before.  I am here to defend Jessica Simpson.

1. Meat increases the risk of breast cancer. A 2007 study of 35,000 women published in the British Journal of Cancer found that women who ate meat were far more likely to develop breast cancer than women who consumed none. Will Jessica's next t-shirt will say, "Real Girls Smoke 3 Packs a Day"?

I find this so amazing that I had my crack staff look into this.  You know what that crack staff found out?  That a 2007 study of death say that death affects 100 percent of all people involved.  The scare tactic IS using the words "far more likely"

"Far more likely" means simply, it could happen and we are guessing that it could happen because the conditions are right, but were still not 100 percent sure.  So we'll use the term "far more likely" and that will be taken as fact.

2. Real girls don't support animal abuse. Compassion is super sexy, if the huge number of hot celebs ditching meat is any indication. Young women turn vegetarian in droves when they learn that the meat industry cuts the sensitive beaks off newborn chicks and cuts off the tails of baby piglets.

I don't CARE what celebs do!!  The choices they make do not influence my life in the least!!  I don't drive a hybrid.  I don't talk about how much I hate the president or that he's a war monger.  I don't care what celebs are doing in the least.  Celebs are the second most filmed people in the world.  The first are the people who get filmed at scene of a tragic event.  Than just talk pure shit.  Like people who live along a lake/river and are completely surprised when the lake/river claims their property.  Only to rebuild in THE SAME EXACT SPOT.  Then are completely surprised when it happens AGAIN!!

Lastly, compassion may be sexy, but one thing I have never heard any of my friends say wow...look at her compassion, that is so sexy!  Usually it's a more physical thing that catches their eyes.

3. The meat industry is destroying the Earth. The only thing that's hot about the meat industry is that it's toasting the planet. According to the United Nations, raising animals for food causes more greenhouse-gas emissions than all the cars, trucks, SUVs, planes, and ships in the world combined.

That maybe true, but if you veggieheads stopped eating all the green things that take those harmful emissions and turn them into breathable air, we wouldn't have that problem.  Speaking of removing green many acres of trees do you think have been eliminated by "celebs" so they can have their palatial estates?  Just wondering.

4. Meat will make you fat. All the saturated fat and cholesterol in chicken wings, pork chops, and steak eventually leads to flabby thighs and love handles. I hope the upcoming "Jessica Simpson's Intimates" line comes in plus sizes!

NO!!  MEAT WILL NOT MAKE YOU FAT!!  EATING MAKES YOU FAT!  I know this.  I like to eat.

"Going vegetarian is the best way to get slim and stay that way."


I like to eat.  I don't like to exercise. Thus I am fat.  I make no excuses.

5. Eating meat steals food from starving kids. Jessica's trip to help kids in Africa got a lot of media buzz, but by gnawing on meat, she's essentially stealing food from the mouths of starving children since it takes up to 16 pounds of grain to produce just 1 pound of meat. If more people went vegetarian, we'd free up enough grain to feed every person in the world.

No, if the society, religion and beliefs protects a possible food source, they are starving by choice.

If farmers are letting their crops spoil because it's to costly to farm it, that's taking food out of every bodies mouths, not just "the starving children", because obviously the starving adults don't get mentioned, so they must not matter.

So to end this spiel, which has grown a lot longer than originally intended,

There is nothing wrong with being a vegetarian as a lifestyle choice.  I don't care what you choose.  But DO NOT FORCE FEED ME YOUR VIEWS SO SCREW YOU PETA!!

Jessica eat whatever makes you happy.

I myself am about to go cook me up some pork chops.  C'mon over if you want some.


For 34 years she called it Teenage Wasteland. This makes me giggle, because she's the 50's-70's music aficionado, and I'm the hair band geek


I taught my wife, back when we first met, the name of the song, by The Who, isn't "Teenage Wasteland" but "Baba O'Reilly."

Jun 17, 2008


Rules of Marriage - Even though you are a fly by the seat kind of guy, you need to know the time. Being late can cause painful bruising.


I don't understand why mothers are concerned about babies drooling on someone. We know that drool, pooh & pee are expected & sometimes funny


Another hair band moment all this because hair bands still rock!!


Pimpin out mah blog because we all know that PIMPIN AINT EASY!


I listened to Motley Crue's Saints Of Los Angeles album. I don't know how, but these old school rockers can still kick out some cool music!!


As I get older I'm getting a lot more bitter. It's just that stupid people are pissing me off more and more every day. AND THAT'S NOT COOL!!


You know those triggers that automatically kicks a bad memory into a "relive" moment?

That happened to me on 6/2/06.

There's this stupid song called "The Rodeo Song", and if you don't know it, here's the lyrics...

Well it's 40 below and I don't give a ****
Got a heater in my truck and I'm off to the rodeo
And it's Alabama left Alabama right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know
Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves
Well here comes Johnny with his pecker in his hand
He's a one ball man and he's off to the rodeo
And it's Alabama left and Alabama right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage god damn goof ya know
Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves
Well it's 40 below and I don't give a ****
Got a heater in my truck and I'm off to the rodeo
And it's Alabama left Alabama right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know
Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves
Well here comes Johnny with his pecker in his hand
He's a one ball man and he's off to the rodeo
And it's Alabama left Alabama right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know
Piss me off fuckin' jerk get on my nerves

There it is...the last time I heard that song I was 12

My step-dad was drunk and my mom was pregnant with my sister. He smashed her head into the windshield of a blue Chevy Malibu, my step-brother was crying, I was sitting in silence and terror and my step-dad was screaming that if my mom was going to leave, she better have an abortion or else he was gonna kick her in the stomach to make sure she loses the baby.

This was almost 22 years ago.

This all started because I made the mistake of asking if we were going to be leaving the bar soon.

My step-dad had just put money in the jukebox, and this song started. My mom, in a very hushed tone said "Be quiet! You don't want step-dad to hear you!'

But drunk ears pick up everything.

He started screaming at me, "I'm not wasting my hard earned money!! I worked all week, and it was hard work, I deserve this Friday night out. It's MY reward for putting food on the table!!!"

"You are one selfish little prick for even asking something like that!!!"

My mom said, "Don't worry he'll be quiet from now on." I think she was trying to calm him down.

It did not work.

"Don't protect the little shit! He has to learn that the world isn't like his god damn books!!"

My mom got up, and walked out the door.

By herself.

She left all three of us there.

She left me there.

Than step-dad in a very nice and calm voice told step-bro to get his stuff ready, grabbed me by the arm, and shoved me out the door.

I could see that my mom was halfway down the block, walking away and leaving me behind.

Step-dad told us to get in the car.

He drove the car and told my mom to get in.

She didn't.

She said "You're so drunk you're gonna kill him, and I don't wanna see that!!"

So that's when he started screaming "If you're going to leave, you better have an abortion or else I'm was gonna kick you in the stomach to make sure you lose that baby!!"

My mom got in the car.

Just as she settles in, he rams her head into the windshield. Instantly creating a spiderweb.

"You don't never embarrass me in front of my friends ever again!" he yells at her.

During the 20 minute drive home, step-dad is still screaming at me, for ruining his night out.

When we get home, I get sent to my room and he takes step-bro home.

Through the door I ask my mom if she's OK?

During the time that he's gone, my mom says nothing.

I walked out of my room and I ask, "Why did you leave me behind when you walked out the door?"

No response.

I go back into my room.

I sit down with my back against the door and my legs braced against the bed.

I made up mind that night, no matter what happens, I would not run away this time.

I would stand and fight.

When he cames home, he and my mom start up all over again.

While they were screaming at each other, I was getting ready for my confrontation with my step-dad.

Then there was this awful silence.

Step-dad says "Jesus Christ, what have you done this time?"

I run out of my room.

I see my step-dad standing in the middle of the living room.

I see my mom with the phone in her hand and blood streaming down her face.

Step dad went to the bathroom.

I stand there horrified and frozen.

That's my mom, and she's bleeding.

As I look at her, she looks at me, and with a blank stare she hits herself in the head with the phone.

Somehow, (and even to this day I don't know what happened) I had the phone in my hand, and I called 911.

While this was happening, all I could hear was this retching sound coming from the bathroom.

I hung up the phone, walked to the bathroom where the acrid smell of urine and vomit assaulted my senses, grabbed some towels, saw my step-dad with his face in the toilet and kneeling in a puddle of piss.

When the ambulance arrived they took my mom to the hospital.

The cops asked me what happened.

I stood there in silence.

They asked me if I was OK.

I stood there in silence.

Step-dad comes out of the bathroom and says "We were having a fight then she hit herself in the head with the phone, then I called the boy to see if he could do something."

The cop asked me if this was true.

I stood there in silence.

The cop asked me if I was going to be OK.

I nodded. I knew then that this was my only chance to do something, and I failed.

The cops left.

As I stood there in silence, knowing exactly what would happen next, my step-dad approached me, raised his hand and proceeded to give the beating of a lifetime.

"How dare you bring outside people into family business! This is all your fault! If you would only learn to keep your damn mouth shut!"

I took the punches and the slaps in silence.

Tears streamed down my face, but I didn't make a single sound.

A few hours later my mom came back home.

Her head was wrapped in gauze, she gave me a hug and then laid down on the couch.

The next morning, step-dad asks me what happened to the living room, why my mom's head is bandaged and what I did to "fuck everything up?"

I stood there in silence.

All these memories flooded back into my head, because someone played that song.

I really hate that song.

Jun 16, 2008


Rules of Marriage - Doing laundry or dishes without being told or reminded to, can be an aphrodisiac.


Another hair band flashback because hair bands still rock!!! Totally ROCK!!!


can of barley and wheat.


It's the middle of the night and I'm awake at home, the AC don't work and it's oh so warm, Not even tired, had enough to eat. I'm having a

Jun 15, 2008


Whoever said a warm glass of milk will help you sleep has obviously never had it. That has to be the foulest taste I've ever had in my mouth


Watching the Harlem Globetrotters made me feel like I did when I was 8 years old.


I don't know why...but the term "manscaping" is absolutely hilarious to me. It's like when kids say "When I was little."


A hair band flashback just for shits and giggles because hair bands still rock


They NEVER do this to me anymore. They learned that flying across a room isn't fun and isn't conducive for the need/want of attention & food


I know I'm not supposed to laugh at my wife's misery, but whenever she tries to sleep late the cats are all over kneading and meowing at her


I can't wait for this day of sorting, washing & drying, folding, choosing what won't get packed, & packing the rest of the laundry to begin.


I wish I could sleep like a normal person. Insomnia is just kicking my ass 3 ways from Sunday. More proof that with age comes aches & pains.


Just watched "The Happening" I really enjoyed this movie. I think I will be the only one.


Dear God,
Make me the kind of man,
my Daddy is.

Dear God,
Make me the kind of man
my son wants me to be.

Happy Fathers Day

Jun 14, 2008


She just said biscuits & gravy. As my arteries begin to harden and saliva glands get excited...OMG I think I just had an oral orgasm! Later!


My wife just told me I've reached my twitter limit for the morning. I stand defiantly with a fist raised to heaven as I exclaim "NAY WOMAN!"


I'm not a political follower. I did not know who Tim Russert was by name. I recognized his face & realized he's the only who talked plainly.


Politics are like boobs. If everyone stopped making a big deal out of them, people would be less inclined to make a spectacle out of either.


It's like being stalked, only without having to worry about being naked in front of the window. That scary image is saved for the neighbors.


I'm still confused why anybody would follow me. I was shocked when I had my first follower, & still shocked to know that I'm being followed.


Just finished watching the Incredible Hulk...It actually made me forget the Ang Lee Hulk movie...which is a good thing ...a very good thing.


Jun 13, 2008


I'm hungry...I think I will go get food now


They are a making "Where the Wild Things Are" into a movie. I want to be happy, then again they made "How to Eat Fried Worms" and it sucked.


Pimpin aint easy http://coacearchive.blogspo... but it sure easier than whoring, no clean up


Mom and I were talking on the phone and I mentioned George Lopez. She asked "The one who did Star Wars?" I said yes,


All fed...watched Bravo's A-list awards...had a tizzy with the wife...drinking a beer...typing...working on my writing...and I am twittering


Here I am, sharing some thoughts.

I am afraid of monsters.

The creatures that prey on the weak and target the innocent and pure.

Who leave a scathing taint and a pungent stink on the few beautiful things that find the relentless need to persist, survive and grow.

That monster could be the man I see in the mirror everyday.

I know his thoughts and dreams.

I know what fuels his joy and anger.

I know what he's capable of both good and bad.

I know his strengths and weaknesses.

I know that when I look upon the man in the mirror, that he is capable of terrible deeds.

Who could one day, be the reason or cause for the horrors that we tell our children to scare them into obedience.

I know that the man in the mirror, at times, can have the face of a saint, kindly and benevolent.

But in his chest there could be a barren and vacant space where a heart should be.

An abysmal wickedness that's hidden behind an irreproachable facade.

I see a man. And that man, could become that Monster I fear the most.

So what keeps the monster at bay?

So what keep this shadow absent?


The fear of becoming this monster.

The fear of being a monster.

I am afraid of monsters.

So I fight that fear with hope.

I strengthen that hope with dreams.

I fortify my hopes and dreams with love.

As a man.

Only a good man can be strong enough to carry hopes, dreams and love.

Here I am sharing some thoughts.

I'm not afraid of a monster anymore.

I stand defiantly against the monster.

I stand as a man.

I try to stand as a good man.

I try.

Jun 12, 2008


Does anyone have the Noah's number. You know, the Ark builder. I think we need him badly here in the Dairy State.


WOW..200 posts..lots of rain..found a new home..moving in 3 weeks..keeping up with my writing..I love of a good is awesome. COOL


My Sister uploaded a picture of me holding my Nephew on her My Space account. I feel cool as hell and very very very very proud of them both


I just watched Antonio Sabato Jr's performance on Celebrity Circus. It was just BEAUTIFUL.


I'm not a blog whore, I'm pimpin mah blog, 4 street cred.


My wife's friends doing "Loon" calls. I never how weird/cool it'd be to know someone on you tube.


the images have very little to do with the blog other than to illustrate how something scary and humbling can be breathtaking at the same time.

I'm sure some of you have heard about the rain and flooding that has happened here in the "Dairy State."

Season and I were at my mothers on Monday and Wednesday.

On Wednesday we all watched the news footage of the damage and destruction that had occurred.

I sat there in complete awe of the events that were transpiring right before my eyes.

At the moment they were showing the footage of the homes, land and roads being washed away from the Lake Delton area.

Which was then followed by an aerial view of the flooded areas and then this statement slipped out "Oh my God, that's amazing."

My mother immediately jumped down my throat, telling me about how heartless I am and that this was not a time to make jokes.

I was stunned. I had no clue what she was talking about. I looked at Season and she asked me "What was amazing? Was it the footage? That they caught it all on film, what was amazing?"

"What do you think I was commenting on? The damage? That's tragic, and I can't help feeling so bad for everybody that loses their homes and all their belongings. I was talking about nature itself. It was the raw power of nature that amazed me."

I continued with "Nature doesn't care about or judge anything. Everything gets treated equally. And when natures pissed off, there's nothing anyone or anything can do about it. You are looking at what mother nature has done to people" looking directly at my wife, "what about all the ecosystems that will be permanently damaged with all that debris, garbage and toxic chemicals that are in those homes. What about all those animals that you love so much? What happens when this flooding affects THEIR homes? You were crying about a bird that got pummeled to death by the rain. You even got upset with me because I said 'That's nature and it's doing what it always does. It deals with itself without mercy or prejudice. It just does what it does."

I turned back to my mom "All I was doing is looking at how small we are compared to what the Earth can do to us at any given moment. We build these roads, that are washed away in the blink of an eye. We erect homes that can be taken away and erased from existence in the span of heartbeats. Mother Nature can be unforgiving, relentless and still be amazing."

"We look at flowers and trees and go 'That's so pretty.' We can look at wild animals and go 'Ooh how graceful and beautiful.'"

"Yet you complain about the weeds, which in their own right are pretty, that are growing in your lawn and a couple weeks ago you were talking about cutting down some of the trees in your backyard."

"And when animals hunt, kill and eat the animals they need to survive, you have to look away."

"Nature is just what it is. Nothing more nothing less. I am just sitting here looking at the beauty of this unstoppable force. There's nothing more complex in it's simplicity. We survive on this planet only through the good grace of Mother Nature. Because in all honesty, she can take us out at any time."

Season just looked at me and said "OK crazy man are you done?" and my mom just gave me that "you so crazy and I stopped listening a long time ago" look.

It seems that I get that reaction a lot lately.

But I still stand by my original statement. Seeing what Nature can do to us is totally amazing and utterly terrifying.

And that in itself is amazing.