Sunday, June 28, 2009

Vin, my twin. . .




My twin bro bought a dog on an impulsive move. . .


He thought I was gonna be mad and yell at him because the financial and living situation isn’t that good right now for us but his reason for doing it justified the purchase. My parents wont think the same though... they're kinda unreasonable like that.

See the reason for this blog is cuz my bro has had a pretty rough year so far. Without getting into specifics, he had to make probably the toughest decision in his life. Going with something that he always believed against. Something that we see different on and a decision that will haunt him forever but a decision I’m proud of him for making. While I give him that old cliche that time heals everything, he still lives with the guilt and feels as if a hole was created inside him. I wish there was a way I could take that from him and put it on me but I can’t... Its impossible. Like literally, because I looked into it via Google and you just can’t do it.

I love my bro, there's a lot of twins (or siblings for that matter) that don't get along but that shithead is my best friend... I don’t even currr how un-cool that sounds. If you've read any of my previous entries on this blog you probably knew that already - I mention him in just about every one of them. I don't post up a blog without him reading it first to make sure its worthy... well not until this one. Matter of fact, he’s the one that pushed me to start this whole blogging thing - he’s got all the confidence in the world in me like that... sometimes I think he thinks I’m capable of doing anything, and that makes me the cocky badass that I am.

He's really the only person that truly gets all of my weird/sick ass humor... and laughs at all of it, even when I’m just being a fuckin’ asshole. We're the perfect team, WE’RE the original Shake and Bake. I consider myself lucky... cuz not everyone in this world has somebody like that. I mean think about it, can you actually say you have someone you can trust with anything? I'm talking any-fuckin’-thing. If God told me I had to go put a whooping on the devil, that mother fucker would be right there with me... I expect that just like he would expect the same from me. If I went on a mass killing spree on some Michael Myers shit, was a total fuckin' psycho on some Hannibal Lecter shit, and the cops were chasing after me on some major highway in California leading to Mexico... Vin would be the one behind the wheel in that ‘93 white Ford Bronco.

Even though buying the dog was probably a mistake... it was a mistake he needed. So, Little Bro, I love ya, and I’ll always be proud of ya... even when you fuck up. While Mom and Dad will probably be mad at you for awhile, they’ll get over it eventually. So as one of our top 2 favorite songs go, “Don’t worry, be happy”... and as the other one goes “drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream”.... I’m not really sure what the second one has to do with anything right now but fuck it. And for those thinking “Double-u. Tee. Eff. Question mark.” . . . "Don't Worry, Be Happy" is a song by Bobby McFerrin, and “All I have to do is Dream” is a song by the Everly Brothers. YouTube it. They were the songs of our childhood.

In closing I just want to say, Thank you Chicago. . . You were great.

Oh and I got a P.S. - The dog is a Cane Corso Italiano. Like a Mastiff. Like my brother. Look it up.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

J.O.B.

So I have a job. I’m a bouncer at the biggest/coolest nightclub in Williamsport... well actually it’s the only nightclub in Williamsport I think, aside from a few other lames - like the fag club or this other one that I’ve never been to. And notice how I said “coolest” that’s solely because I work there now. Which means as soon as I get fired it becomes a piece of shit. Just the way the world works.

Anyway, it’s a fun job, I like it. The pay is shit but its still easy money... and very entertaining. Especially when I work the dance floor. I see all kinds of shit that amuses me like for instance guys getting shutdown on the regular by chicks that should consider themselves lucky a guy is even talking to them. Or watching a bunch of white boys that think they can break dance - which just makes me feel weird and embarrassed by the way. Or all the guys that wanna dance in the cage and then argue with me that its not fair that the girls get to... Dude, 1. Its not allowed, period. And 2. Its fuckin’ gay as shit!

And let me tell you we have some characters there . . . I wish I had pictures of these people to post on here to show you because my words can’t describe how fuckin’ funny/weird they are!

Yo, we have this old man that goes there - they call him Shuffles or dancing Santa - he’s like 70ish right and he STANKS of body odor. I mean no exaggeration this guy must be responsible for at least 10% of the damage being done to the ozone layer. I don’t even know why we let him in... he doesn’t spend any money at the bar. The weird thing is he just dances the whole fuckin’ time. Same moves. Non-stop. Doesn’t say a word to anyone, its just him and the music. On occasion he’ll slowly drift over to a girl or two to see if they’d be interested but the only play he gets is the girls that try to be funny and dance with him - only to realize they made a monumental mistake and now this guy’s onion smelling stench is over-powering any memory of anything they have ever smelt in their lives. They think hotdogs... they smell Shuffles’ body odor. Roses... Shuffles’ BO. Pancakes.... Shuffles. Shit has a more pleasant aroma I lie to you not.

Another character we have visit on the regular is this retarded girl named Faime (I changed the name up to protect her identity - I hope its not so obvious that her real name is Jaime). She’s not like a full-blown retard, more like a 5 or 6 on the retard 10 scale... just so you have an idea. Like I don’t think she’s normal enough to drive or make any big decisions on her own but normal enough to get shitty and dance like she’s in a Britney Spears music video at the coolest nightclub in Williamsport, PA. She’s really a sweetheart though, and I’m not only saying that to make the female readers out there think I’m a sweet and sensitive guy and in turn offer up the poon, I’m saying that because its true. In fact, the first day I met her I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. She came in for a hug after a brief handshake and name exchange - to which I pulled back like ‘whoa bitch don’t be coming up on a brutha like that... I’ll cut you.’ - to which she replied with a “sorry, I hug everyone here... just ask around. Its like my thing.” - to which I thought “as long as it’s not giving out free blow jobs...”. - to which she just stared at me waiting for a response. - to which I continued my thought “... well I mean I never had my fang sucked on by a retard before...” - to which she continued to wait for a response... staring intensely into my big brown beautiful eyes - to which I finally said “ok sweet”. - to which she said “ok have a goodnight” as she walked away - to which I mumbled “just don’t drool on my shirt, bitch”. . . . But yeah, I warmed up to her fast. Especially after I seen she bought a woman - a complete stranger - a drink and a shot because the lady just got married (don’t ask me what the bitch was doing at a nightclub after getting married - she had on a fuckin’ wedding dress). So now Faime runs up to me all the time and tells me random ass shit like how she’s gonna dance battle some other chicas or some shit, or she’ll throw those glow stick things at me and run away as I pretend to chase after her, and she even wanted my picture taken with her so I did. Hey what can I say, I have a soft spot for the we-todd’s. . . . well, as long as they’re not acting like assholes.

A couple other people we have in there all the time is this big black woman that wears tight spandex pants and drinks nothing but pitchers of rum and coke all night. I know what you’re thinking... easy target right? Wrong. I don’t max over 220... this chick is pushing 300. I joked with some fellow employees one time about getting her digits... I think she over-heard me because now she tries eye-fucking me all the time. I’m the new guy so I’m fresh meat to her, naw sayin’? Mainly though she just minds her own business and tries to mimic all the dances she sees in the music videos playing on the big screen by the dance floor. Another guy we have that is always in there too is this straight dorky looking MFer. I’m talking black dress shorts, dress socks that go to the middle of his shins, dress shoes, he has the glasses to fit that typical nerd status... the only shit he leaves at home is his fuckin’ pocket protector w/ pens. He dances by himself like nobody’s business too. You would think this guy is shy, and maybe it’s the alchy getting him out there, but this guy goes right in the middle of the dance floor and busts out his moves. Then we got this HUGE guy that comes in on Thursdays, like 400 to 500 pounds (possibly more), maybe semi retarded (like a 2 or 3) from the fat surrounding his brain but he’s cool as shit. Like he says “what up dawg” and shit like that... I didn’t even know they made fat people that could talk that cool.

I could go on all day with the other weirdos we have come in there on a regular basis but then this blog entry would be even longer than it already is... Maybe I’ll share some of the other people in another post at another time.

At any rate (I don’t even know what that means), until next time boys and girls. . . Hasta la vista!

Don't Call It A Comeback

What is up, reader(s)? Hope everyone is doing good. The reason for this update is to let anyone know who may be following along with my random bullshit blog that I have been somewhat busy and that is the reason behind me not posting anything in over a month.

Actually, I can’t lie to you guys, I’m not really busy its just that playoff basketball stuff was really taking up most of my time. . . See I get most of my writing done during the night hours of the day but recently the NBA had been putting games on everrrry singlllle night. Then the Finals came so of course I had to stay focused.

And so I was hooked.

This year has had some of the best playoff basketball that I have seen in awhile and I try not to miss it. I can’t miss it. It’s a weird obsession, you would think its Dallas Cowboys football or one of those WWE Divas specials that they would run on PPV back in the day. You know the ones where you would turn on the channel and try to watch it through all the snowy static shit on the screen... Its like that.

Its all good though. . . I’m gonna try to recommit myself to this thing now that its all over and while there’s a major dead time in the sports I’m interested in (eff Baseball).

Oh, one problem. . . I still have work so that might get in the way too or at least offer me another excuse as to why I’m not updating.

-A.N.T.