Friday, December 31, 2004

The Littlest Warrior

Jack called me at work tonight to ask me if I ever talked to Angi and Tommy. He told me Savannah was having severe problems. He asked me to let them know they were in his thoughts. I haven't been able to think of much else since. You see on numerous occasions I've told them that Savannah was in mine and Jens prayers. What that means is, I tell Jen what's going on and she prays. I haven't talked to God in a long time. That is until tonight.

When I came home from work I went to Savannah's site. I wanted to more about this little girl. All that I really knew, was that she needed a new liver and by some miracle she got it. Everything I knew came from reading Angi's blog.

I sat down and began reading Savannah's story. I scrolled to the bottom of the page and worked my way up. I'll admit I didn't read everything. But I read most. I read until my eyeballs bled. Now I know Savannah has some form of rare disorder called, Urea Cycle Disorder Citrullinemia. She has had to battle her entire life. She has had to eat special food, measured out very carefully. If she gets too much protein, she has problems. She has had a feeding tube for most of her life. She has been in and out of the hospital. She has even been in a coma. It seems the last four years has been one long fight for this little girl.

What really gets me is that in every picture that I've seen of this child, she is smiling. She continues to fight these health issues and yet she remains smiling and happy. I truly admire her spirit.

Tonight this little warrior managed to get me to do something I haven't done in years. Tonight I prayed. I prayed for her and I prayed for her family. I don't know if God was listening to me or not, but it seems if she could get me to do what no other has been able to, that ought to be worth something. Shouldn't it?

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

To Grandmothers House We Went

We spent the holiday at Granny Grunts house. It was fairly uneventful, no screaming, yelling, fighting, or any of the other pleasant things I remember of Christmas' past. It took all day Christmas Eve to get there, what with going through the woods and over the hills and over the bridges and across the plains and past the swamps, we finally arrived at Granny's house late as usual.

We have a fairly small car (tiny, tiny, tiny). So the back was full, there was stuff shoved between the boys, and Jen had stuff under her legs and in her lap. But I was comfortable, because you never crowd the driver. When we got there I had to surgically remove everyone from the car. No easy task.

We finally settled in and the feast began. Tamales for dinner, Christmas Eve. Chicken spaghetti for dinner, Christmas Day. Tons of cookies and other sweets throughout the rest of the weekend. My mom has always made Chicken spaghetti and Blonde Brownies for Christmas. It used to be the only time her four boys got to indulge in these treats, so she was always sure one of us would be there on Christmas. She finally gave up the recipes a few years ago to her daughters-in-law. I guess she figures she's getting up in years and she won't always be around to cook Christmas dinner for her boys. She spoils her boys and now she spoils my boys.

Granny Grunt sounds like your typical little old lady. Cooking pastries and wonderful meals and just generally spreading love everywhere she goes. Nothing could be farther from the truth. We all remember Little Red Riding Hood, right? She gets to Granny's house, only Granny ain't there, it's the Big Bad Wolf in Granny's clothes. That's my mom. The Big Bad Wolf in Granny's skin. Only this time the Woodsman didn't show up to cut Granny out. Oh she's nice enough on the surface, but if you cross her you'll be dealing with 5'3", 115lbs. of claws and fangs. Most of you know how vindictive I am from reading my past stories, well let me tell you, I come by it honest. Compared to Granny Grunt, I'm strictly amatuer hour. I've never seen anyone hold a grudge like this old woman. Jack hasn't been allowed at her house since 1985. It's nothing he did, it was just easier for her to hate him than to apologize to him, because she was clearly wrong. I'm going to give you both versions of the story. Jacks version and the truth.

Jack's Version: Jack was sitting in a chair in Granny's house watching church on TV, having some milk and cookies, while waiting for me to finish getting dressed. We were late for choir practice. We went to church every Sunday morning and night, and also on Wednesday night. We never did anything wrong. Suddenly the modern day version of Lizzie Borden (Granny Grunt) came sneaking up behind him. She was holding a Louisville Slugger tight in her little withered hands, but she had a real good grip because her claws sank deep into the wooden handle. She raised the bat above her head and just as she was about to strike I came around the corner screaming "NO, MOTHER, NO." It was too late. She beat Jack without any mercy. She swung the bat repeatedly, striking him about the head and shoulders, until I could grab her. As I held the snarling beast, Jack, bloodied and beaten crawled to the front door to make his escape.

The Truth: Early January 1985. The day before I left to serve my country, Jack and I hung out together. That evening we wound up at my mom's house. My mom and I were having a heated discussion about the truck that I was selling to my brother. This little talk eventually turned into a full blown argument. My mom and I are both very animated people when it comes to arguing. At some point she jumped up screaming, so I jumped up yelling. Jack knowing about my violent tendencies, jumped up to stop me from clocking the old broad (I would never have hit her, but Jack didn't know this). Jack landed between me and The Big Bad Wolf. He was facing me. I said I would never have hit her, but I didn't say she never would have hit me. Right as Jack landed between us, she swung. POW, right up side Jacks head. I could swear I heard bones break. She was mortified, she had just hit an innocent (yeah right) bystander that was trying to protect her. Jack was immediately banished from the house. FOREVER. If you remember a few post ago I said I don't apologize, well, I come by that honest also. For the last 20 years my mom has hated Jack. It was easier to hate him than to admit she was wrong.

The day after Christmas I was on the phone with Jack. We wanted to get together for a few minutes before me and the family left town. After I hung up my mom said the damnedest thing.

Granny Grunt: "Why doesn't he come here? Wouldn't that be easier?"
Trashman: "What?"
GG: "He can come here, can't he?"
Trashman: "You hate him."
GG: "Why do I hate him?"
Trashman: "Because you hit him."
GG: "I didn't ever hit him."
Trashman: "You hit him."
GG: "If I ever hated him it was because he was a doper."
Trashman: "He's not a doper. Never was a doper. He's a narcotics officer. He's the anti-doper."
GG: "All your friends were dopers."
Trashman: "My friends were not dopers."
GG: "Well I never hit him."
Trashman: "Jesus."

I told her the story exactly as it happened 20 years ago. I called Jack back and told him to come on up to Granny's house.

Jack: "You want me to come where?"
Trashman: "Come to my mom's house."
Jack: "Are you sure?"
Granny (In the background): "Tell him I won't hit him."
Trashman: "She says she wont hit you."
Jack: "HA HA HA HA HA"

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Judy Blue Eyes

When I was in high school I worked at a local restaurant/hotel. I think that's where I met Jack. Just about every kid in town worked at this place at some point in time. Some of the kids from other towns close by worked there also. One of them was Judy. Sweet, sweet Judy. I literally fell for her.

She was a blonde haired, blue eyed, German girl. What a bombshell. I can close my eyes and still remember what she looks like. Of course I can do that with most women I have fallen for. I keep a library of images in my head, for those lonely moments in the middle of the night or day. You know what I'm talking about. Especially you Jay.

Back to Judy. She had it all. Looks, brains, hot for me. She also had a really bitchin 56 Ford pick-up. It sat high in the air and had a hot rod 302. Cool girl, cool truck.

We only worked together for a few months before I left for greener pastures. While we were employed at the hotel, we kept trying to hook up but our schedules always seemed to conflict. Some things are just not meant to be.

I was making a delivery one day at the local Dairy Queen, when I heard a rumbling engine behind me. I turned around and there sat Judy in the cherry 56. She waved me over. As I headed for her truck, I had two choices, take the long way around or jump the fence. Hey I'm cool, I jumped the fence. Unfortunately my left foot is not as cool as the rest of me. Nope it decided to hang on the fence, and down I went. I popped up as quick as I could and walked over to Judy's truck. She was howling. So much for trying to hook up now. We chit chatted some, but after my little display of balance, I just couldn't bring myself to ask her out. I guess it was because during our conversation she would keep busting out in laughter. When I look back now even I start to laugh, but for a different reason. I know something she doesn't. I used to run the hurdles on the track team, and I was even pretty good at it. I guess my left foot was cooler then.

A few weeks later I was making another delivery. This time I was at one of the local liquor stores dropping off brown paper bags. When I came out, who do I see? That's right, Sweet Judy. She was parked at the Sonic Drive Inn waiting for me to come out. She honked and waved me over. Here are a few important details.
1. I used to always wear cowboy boots
2. It was raining slightly.
3. Sonic has smooth concrete driveways

I ran across the street in the rain and no sooner than I hit the Sonic driveway, down I went. This time I didn't stay in one spot. No, I kept on going and I slid right under Judy's truck. I opened my eyes. I was in the perfect position to change her oil. Oh the humiliation. I just prayed she would drive away and kill me in the process. Nope, she turned the motor off and called down to me.

Judy: "Are you OK?"
Trashman: "Just wanted to get a better look at the bottom of your truck."
Judy (laughing): "Come out from under there."
Trashman: "No. I'm fine here. I'll just wait till you leave."
Judy: "I'm not leaving."
Trashman: "Maybe the rain will pick up and I'll drown."
Judy (laughing more): "It's OK. Come on and get in the truck."
Trashman: "No really. I'm staying here. Need anything fixed while I'm down here?"
Judy: "If you come out, I'll give you a kiss and make it all better."

I popped up in her window like a Jerk-In-The-Box. She laughed. I laughed. She leaned out the window and kissed me. She kissed me long, slow, hard, and every other descriptive word I can't think of right now. She had full, soft lips. It was like being kissed by an angel. My knees got weak and I know I was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. I had been waiting to kiss that mouth for months. When she pulled back, I almost forgot to breathe. She parked her truck at one of the order stations and I managed to walk over without falling down again. We had lunch together, made some small talk and exchanged phone numbers. We kissed one more time. I waved as she drove away.

I never saw her again.

Monday, December 20, 2004

Weekend Update

First I would like to say Thank You to all those that sent their best wishes to me and the Mrs. Friday after the ceremony, we went out to eat, after we got home Trash Jr. proceeded to get sick. We spent our honeymoon hanging out in the garage/computer room/smoker's lounge. I called Zelda and sort of made plans to make plans for the weekend.

Saturday morning we had our first argument as a married couple. She wants real and I want fake. Get your minds out of the gutter, I'm talking about Christmas trees. We finally agreed to look around for the best deal. We started at Target.

When we got there we went back to the seasonal department and found the floor models were on sale for 50% off. There was a really nice one that was marked down to $35.00, we decided to get that one and forget about driving all over hell and creation. The lady in that department informed us that if we applied for a Target card we would get another 10% off our total for the day. I being the frugal shopper (cheap bastard) that I am, did a little happy dance. I filled out the paperwork and we looked at decorations and picked up some lights. When we got to the checkout, the girl started ringing up our purchases. She called one of the floor managers over to get our tree. The SKU reader wouldn't read the SKU on the tree, so she entered the info by hand. The tree rang up at 1 cent. That's right 1 cent. The girl pointed this out to the floor manager.

FM: "That can't be right."
Trashman: "Sounds good to me."
FM: "OK. I don't care. Let him have it for a penny."

Here comes the Really-Fucking-Happy-Dance. After all the items were rang up, I handed her the paperwork for the Target card so I got another 10% off the total. My tree cost me 9/10 of 1 cent. What a bargain. I couldn't get out of that store fast enough.

Saturday afternoon I talked to Zelda again. We decided the light show in Austin was out because it's a one mile walk, and she would wind up carrying one or both of her children (I don't miss those days). So dinner it is, however Trash Jr. got sick again so we had to cancel those plans also.

Saturday night at midnight I headed for WallyWorld. I walked around for a couple of hours and picked up some things for the boys for Christmas. I paid the cashier $160.00 cash. On my way out the door I was stopped by a large black man. Another fine WalMart employee.

WalMart Dude: "Excuse me sir I need to check your receipt."
Trashman: "No you don't"
WD: "We always check receipts."
Trashman: "Not mine."
WD: "I'm going to have to ask you to step back inside, so I can check your purchases."
Trashman: "Not gonna do it."
WD: "Sir..."
Trashman: "Let me tell you something. I've never had my receipt checked. I just gave the clerk $160.00 cash. I didn't write a check. I used CASH. You're not checking a damn thing."
WD: " I'll have to..."
Trashman: " Call security and have them detain me. Then call the police. When they get here I'm going to file against you for false imprisonment and I'm going to sue you and WalMart for discrimination. I'm going to my car now."
WD: "Have a good Christmas sir."
Fuck WalMart they ruined my good mood.

I came home and hid everything in the attic. It's now Sunday morning. I waited until 7:30 am and headed for Toys-R-Us. I picked up a few more things. I saw a drum set at Toys-R-Us that was the same price at WalMart. It was the last one. I found the manager and talked him down from $100.00 to $50.00. I explained how they could really use the floor space, and it was the last one, and don't make me go back to WalMart. Had to do some persuading but I got my price. Happy dance time again.

I came home and headed for the attic again. I went back out and hit Target again, then a different WalMart, I talked to Jack on the phone while there. I didn't buy anything. I went to the pet shop and got a gift certificate for Trash Jr's snake. A girl I work with is friends with the owner, so I got a discount. Here's the happy dance. I went to a sporting goods store, got the boys some BB pistols. I know. I know. They'll put their eyes out. Then I went to another discount store and got a few more things and headed home. It's now 2:00 pm and bedtime for Bonzo. I crashed.

Sunday evening at 6:30 pm, Jen woke me up. Trash Jr. was feeling better and they all wanted to go on the mile long walk at the light show. We drove to Austin and parked at one of the state garages. We waited in a half mile long line to get tickets. Then we rode the bus to the light show. Half of the population of the Great State of Texas was there. We walked the mile of trail, there were some beautiful light displays. However I am severely claustrophobic, and the people were jammed in like sardines. I'm lucky I came out with whatever little bit of sanity that I have left.

That's the weekend short version. I'll be so glad when this nightmare is over. Me and the Mrs. will be spending Christmas at my mom's this year. It will be the first time in 16 years that I spend a holiday with the old broad. Last time I got into a fight with one of my older brothers in the kitchen. My mom beat us both with a broomstick until we separated and took it outside. I have really missed those good times. I hope all of you have a great Christmas. I'll try to post once more before then. While I'm at moms there won't be any internet. I'm going to miss y'all.

Zelda, we'll definitely do something next time. Tell Jethro I was really disappointed we didn't get to meet and I still owe him that beer.

Friday, December 17, 2004

End Of An Era

At 3:21 pm Texas time today I climbed the gallows and the hangman's noose was tightened around my neck. Oops wrong story. At 3:21 pm Texas time today, Jen officially became Mrs. Trashman. That's right we finally did it, after an 11 year engagement. They say the first year of a marriage is the hardest, I sure hope we make it. I believe we had only been married for 30 minutes when I asked for a divorce. I just wanted to say it first. In an unprecedented move I am now going to let my bitter half say a few words.

Mrs. Trashman: "OK all you jealous women out there, I have managed to do what 1000's have tried and failed at. I got him, he's all mine, and you can't have him. He is the most kind, warm, loving, thoughtful man alive and he's all man. He has made me his queen. Keep your hands and dirty thoughts to yourself."

Yeah I know she didn't say it, but she would have, if I would have let her speak. Unfortunately she is chained to the stove. I'm hungry.

Do you hear that Jay? The voices are calling you to the dark side.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004


I really hate when someone thinks they got one over on me. In fact I will do whatever I deem necessary to make things square between us. That means I'm going to win. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, no matter how long I have to wait, I WILL come out on top. I will stoop to any level to triumph over you. Call it the nature of the beast, call it childish, call it anything you want. Bottom line. I win.

We got a call at the agency one beautiful spring day. The guy wanted a girl for a hour. I remember his name was Mike. We'll use Dipshit as his last name. The rates were explained to Mike and he agreed to everything. He wanted a blonde with big jugs (nothing new there). We had a girl named Debbie working that afternoon that fit the bill. She didn't have a driver because she preferred to keep the driving fee for herself. I always said it was better to be safe than cheap, but you just couldn't get through to some of these girls. She took Mr. Dipshit's address and she was off on her merry way. Thirty minutes later she called back.

Trashman: "House of Ho's, can I help you?"
Debbie: "This guy says he doesn't have any money."
Trashman: "Shit. Tell him to give you the driving fee, and then split."
I hear her talking to him.
Debbie: "You need to give me $25.00 For a driving fee."
Mike: "I don't have ANY money."
Debbie: "Trashman he says ..."
Trashman: "I heard him."
Debbie: "I think this is his mom's house. He's really young. about 18 or so."
Trashman: "Put the fucker on the phone."
Mike: "Uh. Hello?"
Trashman: "Mr. Dipshit, we seem to have a dilemma."
Mike: "Idon'thaveanymoney."
Trashman: "Calm down, we'll figure this out. Now when you called, our rates were explained to you. Including the driving fee. If you don't want the girl for ANY reason, you still have to pay her something for showing up. Didn't you agree to this."
Mike: "Uh. Yeah?"
Trashman: "So pay the girl $25.00 and save me a trip."
Mike: "Idon'thaveanymoney."
Trashman: "Then you need to give her a VCR or a T.V. or something."
Mike: "I can't do that."
Trashman: "Sure you can. Just unplug it and and put it in her car."
Mike: "I can't do that."
Trashman: "Mr. Dipshit put the girl back on the phone."
Debbie: "Hello?"
Trashman: "I'm on my way. Get the fuck out of there and get a long ways away."
Once again I hear her talking to him.
Debbie: "He's on the way and you are so fucked. HAHAHA"
The phone went dead.

I drove over to the next little town. As I entered Mr. Dipshit's neighborhood, I met a patrol cop going in the other direction. We nodded at each other and continued on. I found the address I was looking for and parked to the side of the house. There was a real estate sign in the front yard. Luckily no dogs. I knocked on the backdoor first, and got no answer. I moved around and tried the front door, no luck there either. I walked to the back door for one more try. Nothing. I figured I would have to catch him later by surprise. As I headed back to my car, cops came pouring out of the woodwork, guns drawn and ready to shoot. Unlike the idiots you see on "Cops", I know how to handle this. The first thing you do is empty your mind and listen to the nice officers. Once they have the cuffs on you, then you can start thinking of the lies.

Cop 1: "Stop right there. Turn with your back to me. Put your hands on your head. Now follow my voice and back up towards me. Stop. Now get on your knees."

I was surrounded, had I made any sudden moves and then dropped to the ground these morons would have shot each other with crossfire. It was quite comical. I was cuffed, brought to my feet, leaned over my car, and searched.

Trashman: "Can I ask, what the problem is officer?"
Cop 1: "We got a call that a big scary guy was trying to break in this house."
Trashman: "Since when is knocking on the door an attempt at break in? Plus I'm pretty sure if I wanted to break in I could have just run through the door."
Cop 1: "Then why were you in the backyard?"
Trashman: "I was knocking on the BACK door."
Cop 1: "The resident inside says he doesn't know you and you were trying to break in."
Trashman: "That cop over there (nodding at cop 2) saw me awhile ago, driving down the street. If I was going to break in, would I do it in broad daylight with cops in the neighborhood?"
Cop 1: "Is that true, Cop 2?"
Cop 2: "Yeah I saw him. Wasn't suspicious."
Cop 1: "Then why are you here?"
Trashman: "I work for House of Ho's. The guy inside called and requested a dancer."
Cop 1: "You know they're not dancers."
Trashman: "As far as I know all they do is strip. Anyway we sent a "dancer" over here. She called me back and said this guy kept grabbing her. Since she doesn't have a driver I told her to try and get out and I rushed over here to make sure she was safe. I kept knocking on the doors because I didn't know if she was still in there. I was on my way back out to the car to call you guys, when you showed up."
Cop 1: "What's the guys name?"
Trashman: "Mike Dipshit. The girl said he's about 18 years old."

The cops talked to Mr. Dipshit and he finally admitted that he knew I was coming. Except he said I was coming to get money. I calmly explained to the cops that he had already lied to them once and he definitely wasn't going to admit to sexually assaulting the girl. I was released and told not to be found in the neighborhood again. Yeah, right.

For the next couple of weeks I would randomly call Mike Dipshit and ask for Mrs. Dipshit. Every time I called, Mike answered the phone and demanded to know who was calling and why. I even had some of the girls call and ask to speak to his mother. No luck. This guy must have been sleeping right by the phone. He was bound and determined I wasn't going to talk to mommy.

One day I had one of the drivers go by the house and get the number of the real estate company off the sign out front. I called and made an appointment to see the house, I also requested that the present owner be there in case I had any questions.

Saturday morning I met the real estate agent at the house. She knocked on the door and the lovely Mrs. Dipshit answered it and let us in. As we entered the living room from the foyer, Mike was coming in from the kitchen. He looked up and saw me. He froze like a deer in the headlights and dropped the plate that held his sandwich and chips. The plate shattered on the floor. Mrs Dipshit turned and looked at her son.

Mrs. Dipshit: "Mike! What's wrong with you?"
Trashman: "I'm sorry Mrs. Dipshit. It's all my fault. You see Mike and I have some unfinished business."
Mrs. Dipshit: "Huh?"
Real Estate Lady: "What's going on here?"
Trashman: "I'm sorry I had to deceive the both of you. But there was no other way for me to contact Mrs. Dipshit."
Mrs. Dipshit: "What are you talking about?"
Trashman: "Well you see two weeks ago, probably while you were at work Mike called "The House of Ho's" and ordered a stripper. I supplied that stripper. Only when the girl showed up at YOUR house, Mike refused to pay her. He even refused to pay the $25.00 driving fee that he had agreed to when he called me. The police even came by here. Isn't that right Mike?"
Mike: "Mom..."
Mike: "Mom..."
Mrs. Dipshit: "I SAID SHUT UP"
Real Estate Lady (whispering in my ear): "I like your style."
Trashman (whispering back): "Thanks."
Mrs. Dipshit: "PAY HIM."
Mike: "Mom..."

Mike fished out his wallet and handed me $25.00. He was shaking so bad I don't know how he ever managed it.

Trashman: "Now see Mike, we could have avoided this whole mess. All you had to do was give the girl the money.
Mike: "Mom..."
Mrs. Dipshit: "SHUT UP MIKE."
Trashman: "Once again I want to apologize to you Mrs. Dipshit and to you also Real Estate Lady. I am truly sorry for the deception."
Mrs. Dipshit: "Just get out of my house."
Trashman: "Yes ma'am. Oh, and Mike, I always win."

Real Estate Lady and I walked out. As I was walking to my car you could still hear the screaming inside.

Trashman: "I'm really sorry you were a part of this."
Real Estate Lady: "Most entertaining Saturday morning of my life."
Trashman: "You'll probably lose this account."
Real Estate Lady: "That's OK this house has been listed forever anyway. She wants too much and the upstairs is a mess. Thanks to Mike."
Trashman: " Well I've got business to take care of."
Real Estate Lady: "Are you really in the market for a house."
Trashman: "No."
Real Estate Lady: "Well take my card in case you change your mind."
Trashman: "OK. Thank you."
Real Estate Lady: "My cell phone number is on there also."
Trashman: "OK?"
Real Estate Lady: "I'm not doing anything tonight. You know if you wanted to call me, maybe we could get together or something."

Like I said "I always win."

Friday, December 10, 2004

Two Stepping - 3 Kinds Of Ladies - Impending Nuptials

While I sit at work doing the chores of a retarded monkey, I have plenty of time to think. I know this is a scary thing. Trashman thinking can't be good. Tonight for some unknown reason I started thinking about my childhood. I have some fairly fond memories of growing up in honky tonks. For those of you that don't know what a honky tonk is, it's not a meeting place for the Klan. It's a small family establishment, they just happen to serve alcohol. Anyway I spent some great times in honkey tonks as a child. Back in the day you would find entire family's in the bars on Saturday night. Back then things were a lot different, sure mom and dad were drinking but when the kids were there with them, parents would tend to keep it to a minimum. Not like this day and age where you have parents getting high with their teenagers.

I remember the juke box pumping out great old country songs in between sets of live music. All the kids ate corn nuts and drank coke until they were pissing brown, if you were lucky your parents would buy you a bar pizza just to stop the cries of "I'm hungry."

I remember Saturday nights was the only time I saw my dad smile or heard him laugh, usually while hustling some sucker at the pool table. He really enjoyed money he didn't have to work for.

I remember it was the only time my mom was really happy, because my dad was happy. Mom didn't get beat on Saturday nights.

I remember playing tag or some other game with the other kids in the parking lot.

What I remember most is dancing the two step. Even as a small child I was on the dance floor every Saturday night with the cutie of the week. It's funny I don't remember learning the two step, but I remember dancing it. I guess I just always knew how.

We traveled all over "The Great State of Texas" when I was a kid. I think my dad was on the run a lot or he was just trying to find some new guys to hustle at pool. I've danced my way across this state, from Wichita Falls to San Antonio and El Paso to Pasadena. I've danced in big night clubs and small beer joints, but my favorites were the honkey tonks.

Those Saturday nights were filled with laughter, great music, good times, old friends and family. I wish I could give my kids Saturday nights like those.


I attract three kinds of women. Psychos, Sluts, and Strippers.
Jen doesn't dance nor has she ever removed her clothes, publicly or privately. She's not a stripper.
I'm only the third guy she has ever been with in an intimate manner but I'm the first real man she's been with. She's not a slut.
That only leaves one thing. I guess it's a good thing I like crazy women.


We got our marriage license two days ago. We can get married after 2 o'clock Saturday afternoon. We have 27 days in which to tie the noose, I mean knot. We had an 11 year engagement. We wanted to test the waters. You know live together a while, have a couple of kids, see if we we're a compatible family. Plus nobody is going to vote for a guy that's not married.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

"THAT" Girl

Anything I say today will pale in comparison to Jay's announcement. Congratulations to both Jay and Jazz.

I will be making "whistle stops" in the future in regards to my candidacy for President of the United States of America. I know a lot of you think I'm crazy and a crackpot, but I am seriously going to run. I'll admit to being a crazy crackpot now. It shouldn't hurt my chances any.

Let's get started. Today I want to talk about "THAT Girl" or as I call them "BRB's". The Bank Robbing Bitch. These are not women that go around robbing banks as the name would suggest. No. These women are far more dangerous. They are the women that make men do stupid things. For instance, robbing banks without a gun. The conversation would go something like this:

BRB: "Do you love me?"
Sucker: "Of course baby."
BRB: "Then rob that bank for me."
Sucker: "But I don't have a gun."
BRB: "Silly, you don't need a gun. Just use your finger and point it like a gun."
Sucker: "OK."

"BRB's" make you do things like deliver cocaine to upstate New York. First a few 8 balls and eventually a few pounds. All without regard for personal safety. I'm not saying I ever did this. I just know how they make you act.

The world is full of "BRB's". Every man has one, if he is lucky he has never met her and never will. Jen used to get upset when I mentioned "BRB's" because she knew she wasn't mine. It took a long time for me to get it through her head being a mans "BRB" wasn't a good thing. You see the relationship between a man and a "BRB" has nothing to do with true love. It's more of a twisted, sick, perverted, vile, dark, mutated form of love and lust combined. It's the kind of thing that will make you do the stupidest shit you've ever done, all for a woman. A woman that will never love you, a woman that will use you and discard you when she's through. A woman that is evil to the core, yet she doesn't really have any idea she is evil. That's the fucked up part. She thinks she loves you, she makes you think she loves you. Yet she makes you do stupid shit and love has nothing to do with it.

Now I know a lot of you ladies out there are going to start to question your men about "BRB's". I would suggest leaving it alone. If he is not thinking about her don't bring it up. You see once a "BRB" gets her hooks into a man she injects a poison. This poison for the most part is not lethal, but it has been known to kill some men, usually in a very violent manner. Case in point. Two of the most famous "BRB's" are Helen of Troy and Cleopatra. Both managed to destroy men and countries. Most "BRB's" do not work on such a grand scale. Most only affect one or two lives.

Back to the poison. Once this poison is injected, there is no way of getting it out of a mans blood. It will be there for life. Sometimes it will lay dormant forever, sometimes it will move around coursing through his veins. You will know when it's moving around by the vacant stares and the slobber running down his chin. Don't confuse the slobber with drool. Drool is what he does when he is in heat. Slobber is what he does when madness is running though his veins. The poison will make him think of her from time to time, it can't be helped. Don't worry these are not fond memories. They are just memories. Memories of a woman that used him. Memories of the stupid shit he did just for a little attention from her. Memories of a time he is glad is over and done with.

Ladies if your man has a "BRB" in his past you are lucky to be with him. Simply because he got away from her without dying or going to prison. Very few men make it far enough away from their "BRB" to start a new relationship. The poison usually kills them or turns them into a lunatic. That is if he manages to dig the hooks out. Most men will never meet their "BRB". They are the lucky ones. A few have met them and managed to get away before the hooks were set. I would say they are lucky too. The ones that have had those hooks set in and still managed to get away are just lucky they survived. My "BRB" had her hooks so deep in me I don't really know how I ever got away. Jen had a lot to do with it. I never told her how bad it was, simply because she wouldn't understand it's not love. Her love is what saved me and pulled me out of the abyss.

I'm really lucky I survived.