Friday, November 04, 2005

Trash Talk, Rancid Meat, And Dead Chicks

Did you miss me? Bullshit. Don't lie to me. I can tell by the traffic thingy, that y'all haven't been around as much. Neither have I. Somethings gotta give. I'm a Rockstar. I need your attention and admiration. I guess I'm gonna have to do something to get it. I'll try to post more often, but you gotta visit more often. I still check on y'all, most of y'all get checked daily, I need to know what my flock is up to.

Speaking of flocks, I'm afraid to eat chicken anymore. Seems to me we're at war with most Asian countries (no offense Jethro) and they're bombing us with rancid yard bird. Now I realize that's not completely true but if they don't do something soon, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE. So I ain't eatin no more chicken.

Since I no longer eat chicken (or pigeon), tonight I had a t-bone. Jen marinated it for two days and cooked it four days ago. I ate it 15 minutes ago. She said it was rancid. I think the A-1 sauce will kill any germs. I figure we'll know tomorrow. If I die it was rancid, if I don't, I'll continue to torment y'all.


I'm going to be the best man (like that's unusual) at a friends wedding in two weeks. I don't like who he's marrying, this should be fun. What upsets me most, is the tuxedo shop charged me a $12.50 fat fucker fee. I'm renting the thing, not buying it. Why do I have to pay for more material? They're getting it back (with a few stains). Maybe I'll try for Vegas 2. Can I get barred from the Baptist church for life?

Still waiting for the dead chick?

Well keep waiting. In the near future I'm going to be promoting a few new web sites for a friend. I expect y'all to visit. I'll know if you do, so don't try tellin me no lies.


Back to me. As y'all know, I'm running for president. I think I have a shot. More than anything I just wanna be famous. I don't think that's too much to ask for. I'm not asking for money just fame. I'll get the money on my own. So if anybody out there has gotten a book deal recently with a company, like say, I don't know, Harper Collins or someone like that. Feel free to point them in my direction.


I wanna talk about gay marriage. I'm all for the homos hooking up. Personally I think they're born that way. I don't think they choose to be that way. Think about it. What guy in his right mind wants to suck a dick or have it crammed up his ass? Therefore it must be something in them (HA HA I said in them). Seriously, I'm not saying they're wrong or fucked up or anything like that. I just don't think it's normal (if there is such a thing). I think they should be allowed to marry each other just for the pure entertainment value. Think about it. Gay Divorce Court. Which I now claim all rights to. So all you Hollywood big wigs that read this, when they finally legalize rump ranger unions, I own all rights to the reality divorce show. I can picture it now, a couple of flamers fighting over antique furniture, oriental rugs, and a cat. Or how about two lesbians splitting up because one of them met somebody with a bigger dick. The possibilities are endless. It's all mine and it's in writing.


Still waiting for the dead chick? Ok. Get yourself a drink, load a bowl or whatever it is you do and be prepared to be shocked, amazed, dumbfounded, and entertained. I realize I'm late for Halloween, let's just say I'm early for next year.

Here it is. Trashmans Second Semi Annual Halloween Story.

It was a cold, rainy, miserable night....wait that's wrong, it was Phoenix. It was another warm night with no rain and I was working at the sex club. There was a couple that came in semi-regularly by the names of Dan and Debbi (once again, not their real names). Dan worked for some private company that picked up dead bodys to be transported for organ harvesting. I was always busting his balls about coming by with a dead body so I could see it. He always promised "next time".

On this particular night I was in the DJ booth with the mop girl Stephie. I was working my magic with the music when the door flew open and Dan ran up into the booth.

Dan: "I got that body you wanted to see."
Trashman: "Bullshit."
Stephie: "What body?"
Dan: "A dead chick in the van."
Trashman: "Bullshit."
Dan: "I'm telling you I have a body in the van."
Stephie: "I wanna see. I never saw a dead person."
Trashman: "Stephie, there's not a body."
Dan: "There's a fucking dead chick in the van. She's dead, naked, and she used to be hot before she OD'ed."
Trashman: "Naked and hot? How long has she been dead?"
Dan: "About three hours. Do you want to see or not? I have to get her to the lab so they can get her corneas."
Trashman: "Let's go."

I put a long mix on and ran through the lobby. On the way out the door I told J and George where I was going. Walking through the parking lot I could barely contain myself. I was going to see a hot naked dead chick. We walked up to the back of the van.

Dan: "You ready?"
Trashman: "Just open the door."
Stephie: "Is this legal."
Trashman: "Who cares? Just open the door."

Dan opened the door and pulled the gurney half way out so that it was resting on the ground and the back of the van. He slowly pulled the zipper down and right as he opened the bag, a zombie, a bone fide member of the walking dead came diving through the opening, screaming like a banshee.

At this point a lot is happening and a lot of thoughts are running through my mind in a very short amount of time. Stephie is screaming and possibly crying and somehow she is running at 300 mph and not moving an inch. I'm thinking "Do I throw Stephie at the zombie or do I throw Dan at the zombie or do I just try to out run both of them?" "Running is out of the question I'm frozen in fear" "Do I try to fight the lifeless creature in a heroic attempt to save Stephie and Dan?" "That's not gonna happen, I'm petrified." "Just don't get bitten, I wont turn into a zombie if I don't get bitten." "Don't show any fear. Maybe zombies are like dogs. Maybe they smell fear." All of that happened in the blink of an eye. I looked at the zombie and realized it was Dan's wife, Debbi.

I calmly took a long drag off my cigarette looked at Dan, and blew the smoke out.
Trashman: "Can I play with her titties?"
Dan: "Fuck you."
Stephie: "I don't wanna die."
Trashman: "I gotta go back to work."

I turned and walked off. I was just hoping to get back in the club before the shit ran all the way down my legs.

UPDATE: Angi once I pulled all the skin back it tasted really good. Surprisingly there wasn't a fishy odor or taste.

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