Old Time Religion

Last night Jack drove the long distance to my house, so that he and I could go to a tent revival. Yeah we've got a little bit of religion in us. We drove around in the dark for a bit looking for the revival, finally coming around a curve in the road, we saw Mecca up ahead. We knew we were at the right place because of the pink and purple neon. We parked the car and entered, dropping off the $10.00 each at the first collection plate just inside the door. We worked our way to a pew about half way to the pulpit so that we would have a good view of the Sisters of Mercy. Let the healing begin.

Brother DJ preached one hell of a sermon while the music flowed. I'm sure Sister Cinnamon was full of the spirit because she was crawling and writhing on the floor. Next Sister Bambi and Sister Satin laid hands on one another. It was a very spiritual experience. At one point Sister Sunni was healing Jack and I was approached by Sister He-Man of Greyskull for a little one on one healing in the V.I.P. tent. I declined.

At one point Brother DJ called a man out of the audience up to the stage. The man was getting married in a few days and his friends brought him to the revival for a glorious send off. He sat in a chair at the alter while Sister's Silk, Nikki, and Kiki gave him their blessings.

Later Sister Chantelle and Jack were having a communication problem (she's Chezch) but all communication problems can be solved through the universal language, and a few dollars don't hurt either. I had my eye on Sister Dracula (I do love me a freak), unfortunately she never made it to our pew to heal me. Sister Josie (I'm sure the rest of The Pussiecats were around healing others) stopped by a few times to see if I needed any counseling.

I don't remember how many times the collection plates were passed around, but it was a lot.

The revival shut down at 4:00 am and the ushers sent everybody on their way. It was a beautiful sermon.

This morning (noon 30), Jack came in my room and opened the blinds. The sun was shining for the first time in about a week. It was a gorgeous day. Jack and I had both been healed. I think we should get a little of that old time religion more often.

FLASHBACK: I drove around Saturday morning from store to store looking for a suit to buy. I had Trash Jr and his friend Joey with me. They were there because I had to go to the toy store also. My cell phone rang and I looked at the caller ID. Jack's name was on my phone, I answered it and spent the next few minutes discussing men's fashion with him. As we were getting ready to end the conversation Jack had a wonderful idea.

Jack: "What are you doing tonight?"
Trashman: "Nothing. Why?"
Jack: "How about I come up there and we go to a tittie bar?"
Trashman: "Sounds great. Let me call Jen and make sure she doesn't have any plans for us and I'll call you right back."

I called Jen and told her the plans, she was cool with it. I made sure she knew I was going to a tittie bar. No problem. I called Jack back and told him to head this way. He said he would be here as soon as he could and I hung up the phone. During all of the excitement of making the plans I had forgotten there were two 10 year old boys in the back seat.

Joey: "Mr. Trashman?"
Oh Shit
Trashman: "Yeah?"
Joey: "Are you going to look at titties?"
Trashman: "Well I'm going out with a friend tonight."
Joey: "I saw a movie once where a man rubbed some titties and the lady had big nipples."
Trashman: "Well I won't be seeing any nipples."
Trash Jr: "Why?"
Trashman: "It's against the law in the state of Texas for a woman to show her nipples."
Joey: "But they're still titties."
Trash Jr: "Uh. I don't think titties are titties without the nipples. Not that I'm an expert or anything."

I never realized how hard it is to control a car in a rainstorm while laughing uncontrollably.

What I Do Know

Right after I posted last nights update, Jack called me. The inconsiderate fucker called me at 2:44 am. Actually he can call anytime he wants. I'll always answer. We talked for well over an hour. This is all I know. He made a choice based on the belief that there could be trouble should his employers find out about his blog. The choice was career or blog. He chose career. He is honored and in awe of the amount of love and caring everyone has shown him. He really appreciates it. That's what I know, oh and what the subject of his next blog was going to be. I'll spell it out real quick.

Jack: Today I tried to bust a crack whore. She was a sickly, tiny, emaciated little thing. She kicked my ass. I was lying on the ground in the fetal position screaming for help. Thank God, Big Sexy finally showed up to save me.

That's pretty much the gist of it. If I knew more I would tell you.

I realize I haven't been doing a very good job lately with keeping up with the comments and new posts. I will try to do better in the future. OK Jay?

Now on to more important things. ME. The reason I'm posting this at a decent hour is due to the fact that tonight I quit my job. That's right, I no longer do the work of a retarded monkey. For only the second time in my life I quit a job. I usually get fired. I have decided to make a living off of the items in my store. So y'all need to start buying stuff. Until then I will be working at a new job. I would tell you what it is, but then I would have to kill you. This much I will say. It is underhanded-sneaky-clandestine-undercover type shit. God I feel so alive. I feel my heart pumping again. Now I know how a junkie feels, sticking that needle in their arm after a long dry spell. I haven't felt this good in a long time.

UPDATE: I was going through some comments on one of my posts. In the comment, Grace said " Everyone....relax!!! It's all good. The Jack I knew would be embarrassed by all of this." I noticed a few people were upset by her comment, and these are people that mean a lot to me, so I may be jeopardizing some friendships by saying this (probably not, because these are good people I'm talking about). But she is absolutely right. Jack is embarrassed by all the attention. In fact he said those exact words to me. I miss Jack's blog as much as anybody, but it's not the end of the world. People come and people go. It sucks. Life goes on and we have to keep on keeping on. I realize that my ties to Jack were not severed like everybody else's. I know I can pick up the phone anytime and talk to him. I know y'all miss him a lot. But he's still here. He's still reading. He'll still be commenting. He just won't be blogging. Grace may have seemed calloused by what she said but she was just speaking her mind (which was surprisingly logical for a woman). You've got to give her credit for saying what she felt, no matter how many people she pissed off. I know Jack would respect that.

I STILL Wish I Knew

Sorry it has taken so long. It is now 1:57 am Texas time. I tried to call Jack tonight, but I didn't get an answer. Please be patient. I'm doing what I can. I have to work my meaningless job at night and I sleep all day. I called him when I thought he would be free. Same time I usually call him. Hopefully he was working.

I Wish I Knew

It's 2:56 am. I just got home from work and decided to check my email. I was surpriseed to see so many from my online family. Everybody want's to know where Jack went. I don't know. I talked to him Monday night and everything was fine. Now I come home and find him M.I.A. I'm as shocked as all of y'all. I'll call him Wednesday evening. I promise you one thing, I'll let y'all know, what I can let y'all know as soon as I can. I'm not sure how much I will be able to tell. I will give as much info as I'm allowed. I just hope he's not in any trouble.

Just A Few Words

I have finally answered all the comments from my last blog. I let things get a little carried away and then the thought of all that work overwhelmed me, but I buckled down and got it done. OK Jeanette?

I would like to thank El Sid for causing me to ignore my duties. I spent the weekend sending bloody penguin heads across the frozen Tundra and all you offer me is Lite Beer? Sorry old beer commercial. I thought it was funny but I'm not sure how many of you are old enough to remember it.

One thing I would like to touch on (besides myself) is the amount of hate mail screaming around cyberspace. I know a few of you have blogged and ranted about this already, but I need to put in my two cents.

A few of the lady bloggers have been attacked through comments and email. It has gotten to the point that one password protected her site, two I know of have changed their URL and another decided to quit altogether. Now I read all of these ladies and I have never read anything written by any of them that would warrant a personal attack. I haven't always agreed with everything they've written, but that's what makes this country great. The ability to disagree and form our own opinions. This however does not give anyone the right to attack or threaten anyone else.

Another thing I don't understand is why anyone would attack any of these four ladies. They are not controversial, they just have their opinions, and they posted them. Four innocent women minding their own business being attacked by assholes. None of them deserved what happened.

I on the other hand deserve hate mail. I am an ex-criminal talking about the things I've gotten away with. Usually I'm gloating about out smarting the cops. I've said from the beginning I'm an ASSHOLE, but I'm not the kind of asshole that preys on women. I enjoy being an asshole. If I didn't I would have changed years ago.

So from one asshole to another. Try that shit with me. I don't play by the rules. I'm not going to take your IP address to the police. I'm not going to file a complaint. I'm not going to call anybody. Nope. I'm going to hunt you down myself and handle things MY way.

I know that last paragraph was contradictory to what I said earlier about threats. What can I say other than, I'm a complex dude.

Stroke Me, Stroke Me

This story takes place during my last big trip to Vegas. It was during SuperBowl time and rooms were hard to get, but thanks to The Saint's and Wanna Be Gangster's, gambling habits, I was able to get a really nice room. I'm not sure what year it was or who was even playing in the SuperBowl. I do know it was two weeks of pure decadence, full of sex, booze, drugs, and gambling. I was lucky I survived.

One night Kelli and I were in our suite at Harrahs getting ready to go out. It was a really nice suite, living room,wet bar, bedroom, bath with jacuzzi, double shower heads in the see through shower, separate room for the toilet, three TV's and seven phones. I was living large and it wasn't costing me a thing except for the thousands I was dropping at the Blackjack tables.

This particular night Kelli and I had a little game of slap and tickle going on while we were getting ready. In other words she was covered with bubbles in the jacuzzi and I was taking pictures. At one point she stood up and was leaning against the wall with her hands above her head on the wall and that oh so fine ass sticking out, she had bubbles running down her body. It was HOT. I was looking through the camera and I thought , "man is this sexy". So I did what any red blooded American man would do. I threw the camera by the sink and jumped into the jacuzzi, I spun her around and pulled her back down into the water and proceeded to lay some pipe. Right at the point of sweet ecstasy (you know; blowing my load), something went wrong.

I heard a strange pop in my head, and I fell out of the jacuzzi. The entire left side of my body quit working. Kelli was freaking out and all I could think was that I was baking alive in the bathroom. I had to get out of there. I rolled to my right and using my right arm and leg I dragged myself out of the bathroom into the bedroom. I got about halfway across the room and rolled back over. I was laying on the floor naked as the day I was born, looking up at the ceiling wondering what the hell was wrong. How come my body didn't work anymore? Then Kelli leans over me and screams "What's wrong baby, what's wrong?" I looked back up at her and said out of the right side of my mouth "I think you killed me."

That was the last thing I remembered until the next morning. I woke up and sunlight was streaming through the window. I was still naked and laying in a puddle of water, I was freezing. I rolled to my right and slowly sat up, it seemed my body was working again. I checked everything, my toes wiggled, I had gripping strength in my left hand, my mouth moved on both sides of my face. Everything was good, except for the fact I was cold, naked, wet, and the sun was shining.

I stood up and walked out into the living room. Kelli was curled up in the fetal position on one end of the couch. Her eyes were as big as saucers, she kind of looked like one of those anime characters. I stood there in all my naked glory staring at her and she was staring back at me. Finally I spoke.

Trashman: "What the fuck are you doing?"
Kelli: "I thought you were dead."
Trashman (yelling): "Bitch, don't you know how to dial 911?"
Kelli: "I was scared."
Trashman: "Then at least call your Uncle Paulie, and get rid of the body. It's a big goddamn desert out there."
Kelli (crying); "I'm sorry. I really am. I thought you were dead."
Trashman: "Next time cover me with a blanket. I'm fucking freezing."
Kelli: " Are you OK?"
Trashman: "Yeah I seem to be. You hungry?"
Kelli: "A little."
Trashman; "Let me get dressed and we'll go get breakfast."

UPDATE: I got my Weblog Review today. Go read it and give me a vote or three. I am the MAN.

Happy Valentines Day

The night after Valentines Day, I whipped into The Flying Carpet Hotel, I was there to make a collection from one of the in-call girls. I was driving The Saint's Jeep since he was in Vegas, the roads were slick with ice and his Jeep had much better traction than my rear wheel drive pick-up. I pulled into the parking lot and parked, I dashed up the stairs, knocked on the door and was let in. The girl handed me my money, I counted it real quick and shot back out to the Jeep. BAM, in and out just that quick. No time to waste, I had lots of collections to make.

I got back on the highway and had gone about 200 yards when the night sky was lit up with red and blue flashing lights. I was being pulled over and I didn't know why. I was just trying not to shit myself.

There were two cops in the car, they approached the Jeep from both sides. I rolled down my window and the cop shined the light right in my fucking eyes. I really hate when they do that, it's rude and I don't care what anybody says there is no reason for it. I still remained mildly respectful because he had a badge and a gun. I'm not mouthing off until I'm handcuffed, because there is always the off chance I may not go to jail.

Cop 1: "License, registration, and insurance."
Trashman: "Whatever happened to please?"
Cop 1: "License, registration, and insurance."
Trashman: "Here's the license."
Cop 1: "Registration and insurance?"
Trashman: "I don't know where they are."
Cop 1: "Why not?"
Trashman: "It's not my car."
Cop 1: "Who's car is it?"
Trashman: "My friends."
Cop 1: "Does your friend have a name?"
Trashman: "Most people do."
Cop 1 (aggravated): "Well, what's his name?"
Trashman: "The Saint."
Cop 1: "Wait here."

Both cops retreated to their cruiser, after a few minutes they came walking back up, that's when Cop 2 said those nine words that tell you, you're fucked. "Sir, would you please step out of the vehicle." When you hear these words, you know you're not getting back in. You, my friend are on your way to jail.

Cop 2 walked me to the back of the Jeep and Cop 1 started searching inside. He didn't ask permission or anything, he just started searching. Now I'm panicking, because I don't know what The Saint has stashed away in there. He has been known to smoke a little of the demon weed. Cop 2 was holding my license and looking at me. He finally spoke.

Cop 2: "Do you know why we pulled you over?"
Trashman: "Don't have a clue."
Cop 2: "You were seen entering and exiting a known drug hotel. Rather quickly."
Trashman: "Well I didn't know drugs were sold there."
Cop 2: "Well if you weren't buying dope, what were you doing there?"

Now remember, I am Hong Kong Poopie. I have a black belt in bullshit.

Trashman: "Meeting my girlfriend."
Cop 2: "What room is she in?"
Trashman: "She's not in a room."
Cop 2: "Then how were you meeting her?"
Trashman: "She was supposed to get a room and meet me, but she didn't."
Cop 2: "Why didn't she?"
Trashman: "She's mad at me."
Cop 2: "Why?"
Trashman: "Because yesterday was Valentines Day and I spent it with my wife instead of her. She said she was going to get a room so we could spend tonight together and she stood me up. Now I have to find a reason to tell my wife why I'm not "at work". She really stuck it to me this time"
Cop 2:"Your girlfriend is mad because you spent yesterday with your wife?"
Trashman: "Yep. Go figure."
Cop 2 looked at Cop 1 and they both started laughing.
Trashman (sounding dejected): "I don't see the humor."

Cop 2 handed my license back to me and said "Have a good evening sir and next time have your girlfriend pick a better hotel."

I Rock Her World

Here's a great idea for a Valentines Day present for that someone special. What lady wouldn't want to get one of these from her man? Come on guys, buy her that lifetime gift. Let your woman
profess her undying love for me.



UPDATE: This guy is a fucking genius.

Damn These Lists

I want to start off by saying there have been a few questions about my blog. Is it fact or fiction? The answer is; FACT, or as Jack would say "just the facts ma'am." Now granted some of the conversations are not word for word, but they are close enough to dead on. I was under the influence of controlled substances a lot of the time when these things were going on, so I don't remember exactly how it all went, plus I've slept since then. You can believe it or not, doesn't make much difference to me. One warning however. Don't step up in my face and tell me I'm lying.

Most of my readers know I don't do these list things, but since I received a personal plea from Bent, I guess I'll have to do it. I'm not sure how I can fuck this up, so I'm not going to even try. Who knows maybe it will give you a little insight as to how The Trashman works.

The Random Ten:

The first ten songs on a recently burned CD -

1. If That Ain't Country - David Allen Coe
2. The Weight - The Band
3. Into The Mystic - Van Morrison
4. Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show - Neil Diamond
5. Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap - AC/DC
6. He Still Loves Me - Fighting Temptations
7. Canon in D - Pachelbel
8. Love Is Blue - The Ventures
9. Flesh Of My Flesh Blood Of My Blood - DMX
10. Shuffle It All - Izzy Stradlin And The Ju Ju Hounds

What is the total amount of music files on your computer?

252 totally legal downloads. I didn't steal none of them. LOL

The last CD you bought is:

REO Speedwagon - Hi Infidelity
Like so many others, I try living in the past.

What is the last song you listened to before this message?

Folsom Prison Blues - Johnny Cash.

Write down five songs you listen to a lot or mean a lot to you:

Kid Rock - You Never Met A Mother Fucker Quite Like Me - (nuff said)
Nazareth - Hair Of The Dog - (now you're messin with a son of a bitch)
38 Special - Back On The Track - (some even call me the devil child)
Johnny Paycheck - I'm The Only Hell (Momma Ever Raised) - (they took my belt, and my billfold, my fingerprints, and a profile of my face)
Traveling Wilburys - Tweeter And The Monkey Man - (In Jersey anything's legal as long as you don't get caught)

Who are you going to pass this to? (Three persons and why)

Nobody, because the madness needs to end somewhere, and since it usually begins here, this seems like a fitting place for it to stop.

UPDATE: In my haste to end the pain of this list, I forgot to give a special Thank You to Flirt In A Skirt for making me the Blog Buddy of the day. So to Flirt I say Thank you, I really appreciate it. Y'all stop over and read her.

15 Minutes Of Fame

Right now I'm B.U.I. Blogging Under the Influence. If this is good I take all the credit. If it's bad, don't blame me, blame the pusher-man (pharmacist).

Many years ago I was arrested in a small lakeside community outside of Austin. I won't tell you why I was arrested, but I will tell you this. It was dark, I made sure nobody saw me and I didn't do it. How I got accused of this crime is a mystery to me. Anyway none of that is important.

A deputy was dispatched to drive me to the jail in Austin since this little community only had two officers and no jail of their own. On the way to the county lock up, I noticed a strange odor in the car.
Trashman: "You smell that?"
Deputy Dog: "Smell what?"
Trashman: "That stink."
DD: "I don't smell nothing."
Trashman: "Your water pump is going out."
Right as the words came out of my mouth, the car died. Deputy Dog eased the car over to the side of the road and looked at me.
DD: "How did you know?"
Trashman: "You couldn't smell the burning water?"
DD: "I couldn't smell nothing."

Deputy Dog radioed for assistance, then he handcuffed me to the steering wheel. I couldn't believe it. I thought they only did that in movies. He stepped out of the car climbed a fence and stepped behind a tree to take a piss. I don't really blame the guy, when you got to go, you got to go. I just think he could have been a little more professional.

While I'm sitting handcuffed to the steering wheel and the cop is pissing in the woods, my friend that was with me when I was "falsely arrested" was on his way to the jail to post bail. It was paid before I got there.

Eventually two more deputies showed up to drive us to the jail. Great, now I'm in a car with three of them. I could only imagine what the people in the cars around us were thinking. Three cops and one good guy in the same car. I must have looked like an axe murderer.

I was lead into the jail by the three deputies. As I'm being searched again, I could hear the guys in the holding cells. They were saying things like; "Who the fuck is he?" "Three cops brought him in, he must be one bad mother fucker." "Dude must be famous." "I ain't giving him my shoes." "I hope he don't make me his bitch." and assorted things of this nature. At this point I didn't know my bail was already paid. Things were either going to be real easy or real hard for me during my stay in the "Graybar Hotel".

The minute I was put in the cage, I was bombarded with questions like; "Who are you?" "Did you put up a fight?" "How come you ain't all fucked up?" "Yo man, how many DID it take to arrest you?" "You a dealer? Can I work for you when I get out?" "You think you're a badass?" "Want a cigarette?" "You want to sit here?". I was amazed at the level of stupidity in this cage. If I had been thrown in with the monkeys at the zoo it would have been about four steps up the evolutionary ladder. I looked around and said "Leave me the fuck alone." Total silence. It looked like things were going to be easy for me. I could see there were a couple of guys I might have trouble with, if they ever worked up the balls to make a move. But at the time I was fairly safe.

I walked over and sat down on the stainless steel bench. That's when the jailer yelled my name.
Jailer: "TRASHMAN"
Trashman: "YO"
Jailer: "BAIL'S PAID"

I was in jail for about 15 minutes. My shortest stay ever. I stepped out of the cage, signed for my belongings and headed for the door. On the way out one of my new prison bitches handed me an envelope and asked me to mail it to his "ol lady". I could still hear the comments. "I ain't never seen anybody bail out that fast." "Dude didn't even make a phone call." "He's a BIG time dealer." "Good thing you didn't fuck with him. I heard he had a guy killed for taking his parking spot." Yep, they had stuck me in with the common criminals. I deserved better treatment than that, but due to profiling I was lumped in with the idiots. I may look like an idiot, but that doesn't make me one.

Once I got outside I opened the letter to see what I was mailing. I opened it gently so it could be resealed (HA). I'm not going to mail something from jail if I don't know what it is. Inside was a letter that said "I'm sorry baby, pleeze drop tha chargies. I swer I wont hit you no more. You know I luve you. Why wont you tak my phon calls?" I had read enough, I slipped the letter back into the envelope. My bail paying friend looked at me and said "What are you going to do with that?" I replied "Mail it." as I dropped it into the first garbage can we walked past.