I was at the store the other night and saw a container of Tang sitting on the shelf. I told Jen I was going to buy it. She asked me if I was supposed to drink it due to my diabetes. I figured what the hell, astronauts drink it. It must be healthy. I haven't had Tang since I was a little kid, and then I only got it when we visited my rich cousins. It was as good as I remembered. There's nothing quite like a cold glass of chemical dust mixed up in bad water. MMMMMM yummy.
Anyway that glass of orange goodness got me to thinking about other pleasant childhood memories. Who remembers the Christmas time Coca-Cola song? You know, the one that goes "I'd like to teach the world to sing..." Have you seen what the hipsters have done to one of the few good memories I have of yesteryear? What the fuck is this shit? A bunch of wanna-be hippies dressed up in retro t-shirts with out-dated hair cuts sitting on a Philadelphia roof top singing "I'd like to teach the world to chill..." all being lead by G. Love, some white guy trying to rap and sound black. It's as bad as Madonna singing "American Pie" maybe even worse. It's like all the remade movies. The Dukes of Hazzard was ruined. Is there no originality left? Can't they come up with something new? Why do they have to ruin all the good stuff? Redo some of the bad shit, maybe you'll make it better.
Speaking of making things better. I got to thinking this morning, I'm 41. It's time to make my life better. Not that it's bad, but it could be better. Statistically speaking my life is half over. That gives me 40 years to do all the things I've wanted to do (like rob a bank). Now once you subtract the last ten years because those will be spent in a nursing home, wheel chair bound, trading lies with the other old timers, shitting myself cause I think it's funny that the nurse has to wipe my ass ("pull my finger" has a whole new affect at that age). I'm left with 30 years for fun. I should probably subtract at least 7 years for incarceration. Now I'm down to 23 years. Take away the 9 years my baby boy (T3) has left in school and I've got 14 years. Need to take off about 5 years for surgery and sickness (I'll lose a leg sooner or later due to diabetes, but that's OK, I'll just get a peg) and I've got 9 years left. So 9 years to do everything I want to do.
Now I just need to figure out what exactly it is I want to do. I have a short list, but I'm greedy so I want a bigger list. I'll work on that and let y'all know.
My readership is dropping again. I have nobody to blame but y'all. I guess I'll have to speed up on the posting again. I know I keep saying that but I'm the busiest broke guy I know. All work and no pay makes Trash a dull writer. Money makes me happy. When I'm happy I write. When I write I'm happy. If I could just get paid for writing everything would be fine.
Most of my hits come from Rob's site. I'm hoping it's Harper Collins checking in on me. They better hurry up with an offer before someone else does. Anybody out there wanna publish the memoirs of a fucking freak? Maybe I should post a few more wild stories. Trouble is I want to get paid for my stories. Would y'all buy the book?
It's Christmas time again (not the holiday season). Christmas. Ninety six percent of the people in America celebrate Christmas, so stop with the PC shit and wish someone a Merry Christmas. Although I will admit sometimes I say Crimas, just cause. So in the spirit of giving I'm going to give y'all the chance to ask me anything you want and as much as you want. I will answer the questions truthfully or to the best of my ability or with humor or I just may out and out lie to you. I will at least answer your questions. I will answer on Tuesday. I promise. So let the asking begin and have a Merry Crimas.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
I Thought PETA Was Bread
I finally finished taking the bottle of pills I found. It seems that since I don't have them anymore that the paranoia has decreased. But that doesn't mean that THEY aren't out to get me.
This is one of those post where I'm going to skip around a few subjects. If you don't like those kind of post, to fuckin bad.
First subject. One of my favorites. How great is it the French are getting burned out of their own country by the same assholes they tried to protect from us. I can't think of anybody that deserves it more.
Subject B. The Texas - Mexico border. Close it. Anybody tries to cross it and we shoot them. Enough said.
Third Subject. PETA. I've owned boots made out of cow hide, bull hide, rhino, baby kangaroo, elephant, snake, and shark. I even owned a shark skin suit once but I think they ripped me off because it didn't feel like shark. I own leather jackets, belts, boots, whips, tie down straps (you freaks know what I'm talking about) and other assorted goodies made from dead animals.
I eat meat, fish and yard bird. I've hunted squirrel, snakes, rabbits, deer, javelina (wild pig) and lots of other furry little creatures. I've always tried to eat what I killed, but let me tell you there's no way to cook a opossum so that it's edible.
Some day I plan on killing a Kodiak Grizzly with a toothpick, some rubber tubing and a Frisbee. Don't ask me how, because I'm using the same technique against THEM.
PETA has seen fit to publish this shit. Be sure to read both pages, paying close attention to the last paragraph on page two. If you don't feel like reading it, fine. It says, and I quote "Until your Daddy learns that it's not fun to kill, keep your doggies and kitties away from him. He's so hooked on killing defenseless animals that they could be next." What the fuck is this. Now they're trying to turn our kids against us. Well I've got an idea. How about a PETA season. I love hunting. Let's hunt some PETA's.
Subject IV. Christmas time and Walmart. I'm calling for a nationwide boycott of Walmart. I'll admit there was a time in my life when I thought Wally World was the greatest thing. But now after the stunt they pulled this year. They'll never get another penny from me. In fact when I'm elected president, my first official act will be to order a complete study of Walmarts accounting and business practices. Anyway this year Walmart advertised a big sale from 5am until 11am on Black Friday. One of the items was a HP laptop (in limited supply). A friend of mine is in dire need of a new laptop (his exploded) and this one would suffice, plus it was only $378.00.
I put in a few calls to a distant sort of in-law (he works for Satan, also known as Walmart), to find out just what limited supply meant and how the sale would work. After threatening him with bodily harm and possibly death, he finally gave up the info. Each store would have 10 to 20 of the laptops and they would be sold on a first come first served basis.
So my friend gets up early and gets to Walmart at 4:30am. Turns out they are handing out numbers for the laptops and he's to late. On his way out the door a woman asked him if he had a number and gave him hers. Now he's number 17. WooHoo he's getting a new computer. Walmart had everybody with numbers on one side to the displays when they rolled out the laptops. This is where everything went awry. They announced the numbers were no longer valid, now it's first come first served. The laptops were on the other side of the aisle from the people with numbers and there was a rush. Nobody with a number got a laptop. Which seems kind of wrong because most of the people with numbers got there first. There was a story on the news where some guy in Florida was tackled for cutting line. I did a little research and this kind of thing went on all over the country.
More proof that Walmart is the devil. They took the Holiest of Christian holidays and made a purely commercialized hell out of it. I refuse to give the devil my money. He's already gotten enough out of me. He got my dad. He walks hand in hand with my brother. So he got two family members, he ain't getting my money.
This is one of those post where I'm going to skip around a few subjects. If you don't like those kind of post, to fuckin bad.
First subject. One of my favorites. How great is it the French are getting burned out of their own country by the same assholes they tried to protect from us. I can't think of anybody that deserves it more.
Subject B. The Texas - Mexico border. Close it. Anybody tries to cross it and we shoot them. Enough said.
Third Subject. PETA. I've owned boots made out of cow hide, bull hide, rhino, baby kangaroo, elephant, snake, and shark. I even owned a shark skin suit once but I think they ripped me off because it didn't feel like shark. I own leather jackets, belts, boots, whips, tie down straps (you freaks know what I'm talking about) and other assorted goodies made from dead animals.
I eat meat, fish and yard bird. I've hunted squirrel, snakes, rabbits, deer, javelina (wild pig) and lots of other furry little creatures. I've always tried to eat what I killed, but let me tell you there's no way to cook a opossum so that it's edible.
Some day I plan on killing a Kodiak Grizzly with a toothpick, some rubber tubing and a Frisbee. Don't ask me how, because I'm using the same technique against THEM.
PETA has seen fit to publish this shit. Be sure to read both pages, paying close attention to the last paragraph on page two. If you don't feel like reading it, fine. It says, and I quote "Until your Daddy learns that it's not fun to kill, keep your doggies and kitties away from him. He's so hooked on killing defenseless animals that they could be next." What the fuck is this. Now they're trying to turn our kids against us. Well I've got an idea. How about a PETA season. I love hunting. Let's hunt some PETA's.
Subject IV. Christmas time and Walmart. I'm calling for a nationwide boycott of Walmart. I'll admit there was a time in my life when I thought Wally World was the greatest thing. But now after the stunt they pulled this year. They'll never get another penny from me. In fact when I'm elected president, my first official act will be to order a complete study of Walmarts accounting and business practices. Anyway this year Walmart advertised a big sale from 5am until 11am on Black Friday. One of the items was a HP laptop (in limited supply). A friend of mine is in dire need of a new laptop (his exploded) and this one would suffice, plus it was only $378.00.
I put in a few calls to a distant sort of in-law (he works for Satan, also known as Walmart), to find out just what limited supply meant and how the sale would work. After threatening him with bodily harm and possibly death, he finally gave up the info. Each store would have 10 to 20 of the laptops and they would be sold on a first come first served basis.
So my friend gets up early and gets to Walmart at 4:30am. Turns out they are handing out numbers for the laptops and he's to late. On his way out the door a woman asked him if he had a number and gave him hers. Now he's number 17. WooHoo he's getting a new computer. Walmart had everybody with numbers on one side to the displays when they rolled out the laptops. This is where everything went awry. They announced the numbers were no longer valid, now it's first come first served. The laptops were on the other side of the aisle from the people with numbers and there was a rush. Nobody with a number got a laptop. Which seems kind of wrong because most of the people with numbers got there first. There was a story on the news where some guy in Florida was tackled for cutting line. I did a little research and this kind of thing went on all over the country.
More proof that Walmart is the devil. They took the Holiest of Christian holidays and made a purely commercialized hell out of it. I refuse to give the devil my money. He's already gotten enough out of me. He got my dad. He walks hand in hand with my brother. So he got two family members, he ain't getting my money.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Hiding Under A Rock
I'll bet you've all been wondering where I went. I'm in hiding from corporate America. I thought I would come out long enough to tell my faithful readers (and the rest of y'all too) Happy Thanksgiving.
Have you noticed the gas prices going down? Just like I said it would happen. I know the lower the prices go, the closer I am to death. Shouldn't be much longer now. They'll come sneaking in the middle of the night and inject me with an untraceable drug (formulated especially for me since they got my DNA from the national DNA database) and I'll have a "heart attack". So long Trashman. What they don't realize is I have an army of readers to carry on with the fight for truth, justice and the American way.
I've been listening to Conspiracy Radio a lot lately. Those people are fucked up. But I have noticed that the signal is nice and clear until I pull into my driveway then it goes dead and comes back on with a lot of static. The first time it happened I didn't pay much attention, I just figured it was weather or cloud related. It's been happening everyday for two weeks now. I must be higher on the Kook List than I figured.
I've found a new way to fund my stay off grid. I'm selling link space. If you'll look over to the right you will see a new cell block in the prison. It's for perverts and pornographers. Our newest inmate is truly sick. His link is booger green. Go visit. Join up. Pay him so he can pay me. Or don't. One way I live longer the other way I die quicker. Your choice. At least read the "How we came to be page". He's a fellow Texan so he can't be all bad.
Back to business. Have you ever seen "Enemy Of The State" starring Will Smith and Gene Hackman. If you haven't seen it, go rent it and you'll know what THEY are capable of. The way I see it, right now the government has me their Kook List, the oil companies want to shut me up, plus in the past I have sounded off about the medical profession, insurance companies, and the pharmaceutical giants. I have run my mouth about all the biggest money makers in our country. If I live long enough to be elected I'll fix it all, or take pay offs.
I'm going to my mom's for Thanksgiving. I figure the men in black have to take Thanksgiving off, after all it is a federal holiday. So I should be able to relax a little, watch some football, eat some turkey, take a nap (hopefully wake up) and then do it all over again.
I would like to apologize for the brevity (I bet y'all didn't think I had a vocabulary) of this post. Once again Happy Thanksgiving and until next time the Trashman is going off grid.
Have you noticed the gas prices going down? Just like I said it would happen. I know the lower the prices go, the closer I am to death. Shouldn't be much longer now. They'll come sneaking in the middle of the night and inject me with an untraceable drug (formulated especially for me since they got my DNA from the national DNA database) and I'll have a "heart attack". So long Trashman. What they don't realize is I have an army of readers to carry on with the fight for truth, justice and the American way.
I've been listening to Conspiracy Radio a lot lately. Those people are fucked up. But I have noticed that the signal is nice and clear until I pull into my driveway then it goes dead and comes back on with a lot of static. The first time it happened I didn't pay much attention, I just figured it was weather or cloud related. It's been happening everyday for two weeks now. I must be higher on the Kook List than I figured.
I've found a new way to fund my stay off grid. I'm selling link space. If you'll look over to the right you will see a new cell block in the prison. It's for perverts and pornographers. Our newest inmate is truly sick. His link is booger green. Go visit. Join up. Pay him so he can pay me. Or don't. One way I live longer the other way I die quicker. Your choice. At least read the "How we came to be page". He's a fellow Texan so he can't be all bad.
Back to business. Have you ever seen "Enemy Of The State" starring Will Smith and Gene Hackman. If you haven't seen it, go rent it and you'll know what THEY are capable of. The way I see it, right now the government has me their Kook List, the oil companies want to shut me up, plus in the past I have sounded off about the medical profession, insurance companies, and the pharmaceutical giants. I have run my mouth about all the biggest money makers in our country. If I live long enough to be elected I'll fix it all, or take pay offs.
I'm going to my mom's for Thanksgiving. I figure the men in black have to take Thanksgiving off, after all it is a federal holiday. So I should be able to relax a little, watch some football, eat some turkey, take a nap (hopefully wake up) and then do it all over again.
I would like to apologize for the brevity (I bet y'all didn't think I had a vocabulary) of this post. Once again Happy Thanksgiving and until next time the Trashman is going off grid.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Dead Man Walking
Has anyone noticed the gas prices going down? I think it's due to my threat of exposing the gas companies of their daily fucking of the American people. I know I've already been identified by a government agency as a kook. That's right I'm on the Kook List. I made the list as soon as they finished investigating me, after I announced my presidential candidacy. And I'm cool with that, what I'm not cool with is the big gas companies screwing the average citizen.
Here's what's going to happen. They'll lower the prices for a little while, then they'll kill me (probably make it look like an accident or a heart attack) as soon as I'm forgotten about, they'll raise the prices back up. All I'm asking in return for waking you people up to what's going on is that you don't let me be forgotten. RISE UP (in a peaceful way) and let the government and the big oil companies know that The Trashman will not be forgotten. End the tyranny now, take back your country, the land our forefathers fought and died for. Don't let big business ruin us. STAND UP and be heard. Don't let me be murdered for nothing.
I think I just went up a couple of notches on the Kook List.
This is all documented. You just have to search in the right places. You won't hear about it in the media (they're bought and paid for).
A while back the OPEC nations announced they could produce another 2,000,000 barrels of oil per day. They just needed a buyer. No one wanted it so they've been stock piling it. So much more the oil shortage. If there's no shortage why the high prices? Well the oil companies claim there are not enough refineries. That's because they bought all the refineries and closed a bunch of them. Now we need the refineries to refine the oi,l but due to EPA regulations the old refineries aren't up to code and it's damn near impossible to build new refineries to the EPA regulations. It can be done but it would take about 10 years and millions of dollars, plus as long as the oil companies can't refine fast enough they can cause an artificial shortage of sorts.
Now the really juicy shit. There are two different types of crude oil. Sweet crude and sour crude. They use two different techniques to refine them. It's more expensive to refine sour crude than sweet crude. The shit selling for $60.00 a barrel is sweet crude. Sour crude prices have remained virtually unchanged. So although it cost more to process sour crude, it's cheaper to buy. There are a few big oil companies that still use sour crude. Their price per gallon of gas goes up just like everyone else's. They refine a lower grade of crude that they buy cheaply, and use the price per barrel of sweet crude as an excuse for rising gas prices. These companies have had record breaking profits for the last four quarters. Profits into the billions of dollars, and as much as I like G.Dubya, I'm sure he's getting his cut.
Here's a list of the offenders.
1. Exxon Mobil Corp.
2. Valero (Diamond Shamrock)
3. Conoco Phillips Corp.
4. Chevron
Just about every major gas company in the free world (HA) uses sour crude.
When they kill me be sure to put up white crosses and flowers at the pump.
Here's what's going to happen. They'll lower the prices for a little while, then they'll kill me (probably make it look like an accident or a heart attack) as soon as I'm forgotten about, they'll raise the prices back up. All I'm asking in return for waking you people up to what's going on is that you don't let me be forgotten. RISE UP (in a peaceful way) and let the government and the big oil companies know that The Trashman will not be forgotten. End the tyranny now, take back your country, the land our forefathers fought and died for. Don't let big business ruin us. STAND UP and be heard. Don't let me be murdered for nothing.
I think I just went up a couple of notches on the Kook List.
This is all documented. You just have to search in the right places. You won't hear about it in the media (they're bought and paid for).
A while back the OPEC nations announced they could produce another 2,000,000 barrels of oil per day. They just needed a buyer. No one wanted it so they've been stock piling it. So much more the oil shortage. If there's no shortage why the high prices? Well the oil companies claim there are not enough refineries. That's because they bought all the refineries and closed a bunch of them. Now we need the refineries to refine the oi,l but due to EPA regulations the old refineries aren't up to code and it's damn near impossible to build new refineries to the EPA regulations. It can be done but it would take about 10 years and millions of dollars, plus as long as the oil companies can't refine fast enough they can cause an artificial shortage of sorts.
Now the really juicy shit. There are two different types of crude oil. Sweet crude and sour crude. They use two different techniques to refine them. It's more expensive to refine sour crude than sweet crude. The shit selling for $60.00 a barrel is sweet crude. Sour crude prices have remained virtually unchanged. So although it cost more to process sour crude, it's cheaper to buy. There are a few big oil companies that still use sour crude. Their price per gallon of gas goes up just like everyone else's. They refine a lower grade of crude that they buy cheaply, and use the price per barrel of sweet crude as an excuse for rising gas prices. These companies have had record breaking profits for the last four quarters. Profits into the billions of dollars, and as much as I like G.Dubya, I'm sure he's getting his cut.
Here's a list of the offenders.
1. Exxon Mobil Corp.
2. Valero (Diamond Shamrock)
3. Conoco Phillips Corp.
4. Chevron
Just about every major gas company in the free world (HA) uses sour crude.
When they kill me be sure to put up white crosses and flowers at the pump.
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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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.
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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.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Great Caesar's Ghost
Finally tally.
1. Barred from Caesar's - 25
2. Dead Chick - 18
3. Get Me Killed - 7
Some of y'all voted for all 3. That's cool. I was just surprised by the number of people that want me dead. Seems like my absence has cost me some love.
So sit back and make yourselves comfortable, mix a drink, pour a beer, take some painkillers, whatever it is you do to prepare yourself to read one of my tales. This one is a doozy, I'm about to share a story with you that has remained a secret until I told it to Zelda and Jethro. Since I told them, I'll share it with you. I'm warning you ahead of time this story is full of bodily functions and secretions, if you have a queasy stomach stop now. I'm stooping to an all time low and I hope you enjoy it.
I don't remember what year it was I just know it was about 6 or 7 years ago. Jen and I were split up due to my temporary insanity. I was still in business with WBG and things were going financially well. Six of us had gone to Vegas for the Super Bowl, it was me and Kelly, The Saint and Lori, and WBG and his wife.
Saturday night me, Lori, WBG and his wife crossed the street to Caesers Palace to get a few drinks and do a little dancing. The Saint stayed behind to play Black Jack (he was angry because Lori wasn't giving up any). I don't remember where Kelly was, I'm assuming she was visiting her Uncle Paulie in the penthouse at Harrah's.
The tequila was flowing like a river and I was tearing up the dance floor with Lori (I'm quite agile for a fat fuck and one hell of a dancer when I'm drunk). After about 7 or 8 songs and somewhere around the 11th shot of tequila, Lori and I worked our way back to the table. WBG and his wife had just ordered another round. I sat down and Lori straddled my lap looking me right in the eye. She leaned forward and sweetly whispered in my ear. "I'm not wearing any underwear." Then she reached up under her skirt, grabbed my zipper and freed Willy. We proceeded to do some some dirty dancing right at the table. We're swapping spit and other body fluids when the waitress shows up with our order. I grabbed my shot of tequila and downed it real quick. The following conversation is not verbatim, but rather from little snippets of what I remember from that night.
Trashman: "Excuse me miss. Could you bring us another round?"
Waitress: "Yes sir."
WBG: "Are you two fucking."
Trashman: "Shhhhh you'll ruin my concentration ."
Lori: "Ignore them. Just fuck me."
Trashman: "It's hard to ignore a disco full of people."
Lori: "Do what you have to do. Just fuck me."
WBG: "They're fucking."
His Wife: "Are you two crazy?"
Trashman: "She is."
Lori: "Shut and fu...."
Waitress: "That'll be $25.00."
Trashman: "Here's $50.00 keep the change."
Waitress: "Thank you sir. By the way security is watching you and if they figure out what you're doing you'll be thrown out."
Lori: "I'm done now. You can finish."
Trashman: "Give me just a second."
After I blew my load, Lori grabbed a napkin reached under her dress while we were still tongue rasslin and cleaned me up. She caged Willy and zipped me back up all the while only using one hand. I'm not sure but I think she had done this a time or two, and now I knew why she wasn't giving it up to The Saint. He was going for traditional sex and she was a fucking freak.
We drank a few (bunch) more shots of tequila and danced some more. The booze started to do it's damage and I knew it was time for a trip to the men's room, when our waitress returned I had her lead me to the facilities.
I strolled (stumbled) into the mens room and walked up to the first sink I saw, and blew chunks, I stepped down to the next sink and regurgitated, stepped over one more time and lost my lunch. I turned on the water, washed my face, rinsed my mouth and started stirring the puke with my finger. I looked up and see the mens room attendant staring at me.
Trashman: "I'll get it to drain."
I stirred a little longer when I began to feel a rumbling in my bowels. I walked (tripped) to a stall, hung my jacket on the door, dropped my pants, sat down and my ass exploded. Now I'm shitting pure liquid and I have to puke again, so I lean forward and let loose.
Recap. I've got the Hershey squirts and I'm leaned over blowing chunks, I smell like smoke, booze, puke, shit, sweat and nasty sex. Now I fall off the toilet and land in my own vomit. That's right my ass is sticking up in the air and I'm laying in puke. Isn't that how Elvis died? I heard a voice and I eventually looked up and the attendant was staring at me under the door.
attendant: "Are you alright sir?"
Trashman: "I'll be fine. I'm just gonna lay here on the cool tile for a minute."
attendant: "It can't be very cool, it's covered in puke."
Trashman: "Oh yeah. I'm done anyway. Gotta get back to my friends."
I got off the floor and cleaned as much puke and shit off as I could, stepped over to the sink and washed off a little more. I looked in the mirror and was happy with what I saw (I was drunk, really drunk) and headed out the door. No sooner than I stepped out I was grabbed by two gorillas and pushed against the wall.
Gorilla 1: "Are you a guest here sir?"
Trashman: "Nope. I'm staying at Harrahs."
Gorilla 1: "Do you have a casino card sir?"
Trashman: "Sure."
Gorilla 1: "Could we see it sir."
Trashman: "Sure."
I fished out the card and handed it to the gorilla, he stuck it in his pocket and nodded at gorilla 2, they grabbed me by both arms and started dragging me towards the cab stand.
Gorilla 1: "Sir you're barred from Caesars. For life."
Trashman: "OK"
See even I know when not to put up a fight.
They threw me in a cab and sent me across the street to Harrahs.
I don't remember the ride, just that it cost me $100.00 to cross the street. I remember getting in the cab and then I came too in the hallway being kicked in the leg by one of Harrahs finest.
Harrahs Security: "Is this your room sir?"
Trashman: "Does this key work?"
I handed him my electronic card.
Harrahs Security: "Yes sir."
Trashman: "Then it must be my room."
They opened the door and Kelly was standing there. Uh-oh we woke her up.
Harrahs Security: "Ma'am does this belong to you?"
Kelly: "Yeah?"
Harrahs Security: "Where do you want him?"
Kelly: "Just drop him in the floor."
Harrahs Security: "Sir don't leave the room tonight."
Trashman: "OK"
I passed out on the floor, when I woke up the sun was shining though the window and Kelly was gone. I gradually stood up and looked and myself in the mirror. It was horrible, and then the stink hit me, I almost puked again. My suit was encrusted with puke and shit and God knows what else. I crawled into the shower fully clothed and turned on the water. The stuff was hardened on and I knew the only way I was going to get it off was, wet. After my shower I bagged up the suit and called the front desk to pick up some dry cleaning. Kelly came back to the room and I asked where she had been. I was informed she had to leave due to the stink. Go figure.
When it was returned the next day I called the front desk and chewed some ass for the cleaners ruining my suit. They cut me a check for $650.00. I only paid $350.00 for the suit in the first place.
So now y'all know the story. I had public sex, shit on myself, fell in my own vomit, got barred from Caesars for life, and ruined a suit but I made $300.00 on the deal.
1. Barred from Caesar's - 25
2. Dead Chick - 18
3. Get Me Killed - 7
Some of y'all voted for all 3. That's cool. I was just surprised by the number of people that want me dead. Seems like my absence has cost me some love.
So sit back and make yourselves comfortable, mix a drink, pour a beer, take some painkillers, whatever it is you do to prepare yourself to read one of my tales. This one is a doozy, I'm about to share a story with you that has remained a secret until I told it to Zelda and Jethro. Since I told them, I'll share it with you. I'm warning you ahead of time this story is full of bodily functions and secretions, if you have a queasy stomach stop now. I'm stooping to an all time low and I hope you enjoy it.
I don't remember what year it was I just know it was about 6 or 7 years ago. Jen and I were split up due to my temporary insanity. I was still in business with WBG and things were going financially well. Six of us had gone to Vegas for the Super Bowl, it was me and Kelly, The Saint and Lori, and WBG and his wife.
Saturday night me, Lori, WBG and his wife crossed the street to Caesers Palace to get a few drinks and do a little dancing. The Saint stayed behind to play Black Jack (he was angry because Lori wasn't giving up any). I don't remember where Kelly was, I'm assuming she was visiting her Uncle Paulie in the penthouse at Harrah's.
The tequila was flowing like a river and I was tearing up the dance floor with Lori (I'm quite agile for a fat fuck and one hell of a dancer when I'm drunk). After about 7 or 8 songs and somewhere around the 11th shot of tequila, Lori and I worked our way back to the table. WBG and his wife had just ordered another round. I sat down and Lori straddled my lap looking me right in the eye. She leaned forward and sweetly whispered in my ear. "I'm not wearing any underwear." Then she reached up under her skirt, grabbed my zipper and freed Willy. We proceeded to do some some dirty dancing right at the table. We're swapping spit and other body fluids when the waitress shows up with our order. I grabbed my shot of tequila and downed it real quick. The following conversation is not verbatim, but rather from little snippets of what I remember from that night.
Trashman: "Excuse me miss. Could you bring us another round?"
Waitress: "Yes sir."
WBG: "Are you two fucking."
Trashman: "Shhhhh you'll ruin my concentration ."
Lori: "Ignore them. Just fuck me."
Trashman: "It's hard to ignore a disco full of people."
Lori: "Do what you have to do. Just fuck me."
WBG: "They're fucking."
His Wife: "Are you two crazy?"
Trashman: "She is."
Lori: "Shut and fu...."
Waitress: "That'll be $25.00."
Trashman: "Here's $50.00 keep the change."
Waitress: "Thank you sir. By the way security is watching you and if they figure out what you're doing you'll be thrown out."
Lori: "I'm done now. You can finish."
Trashman: "Give me just a second."
After I blew my load, Lori grabbed a napkin reached under her dress while we were still tongue rasslin and cleaned me up. She caged Willy and zipped me back up all the while only using one hand. I'm not sure but I think she had done this a time or two, and now I knew why she wasn't giving it up to The Saint. He was going for traditional sex and she was a fucking freak.
We drank a few (bunch) more shots of tequila and danced some more. The booze started to do it's damage and I knew it was time for a trip to the men's room, when our waitress returned I had her lead me to the facilities.
I strolled (stumbled) into the mens room and walked up to the first sink I saw, and blew chunks, I stepped down to the next sink and regurgitated, stepped over one more time and lost my lunch. I turned on the water, washed my face, rinsed my mouth and started stirring the puke with my finger. I looked up and see the mens room attendant staring at me.
Trashman: "I'll get it to drain."
I stirred a little longer when I began to feel a rumbling in my bowels. I walked (tripped) to a stall, hung my jacket on the door, dropped my pants, sat down and my ass exploded. Now I'm shitting pure liquid and I have to puke again, so I lean forward and let loose.
Recap. I've got the Hershey squirts and I'm leaned over blowing chunks, I smell like smoke, booze, puke, shit, sweat and nasty sex. Now I fall off the toilet and land in my own vomit. That's right my ass is sticking up in the air and I'm laying in puke. Isn't that how Elvis died? I heard a voice and I eventually looked up and the attendant was staring at me under the door.
attendant: "Are you alright sir?"
Trashman: "I'll be fine. I'm just gonna lay here on the cool tile for a minute."
attendant: "It can't be very cool, it's covered in puke."
Trashman: "Oh yeah. I'm done anyway. Gotta get back to my friends."
I got off the floor and cleaned as much puke and shit off as I could, stepped over to the sink and washed off a little more. I looked in the mirror and was happy with what I saw (I was drunk, really drunk) and headed out the door. No sooner than I stepped out I was grabbed by two gorillas and pushed against the wall.
Gorilla 1: "Are you a guest here sir?"
Trashman: "Nope. I'm staying at Harrahs."
Gorilla 1: "Do you have a casino card sir?"
Trashman: "Sure."
Gorilla 1: "Could we see it sir."
Trashman: "Sure."
I fished out the card and handed it to the gorilla, he stuck it in his pocket and nodded at gorilla 2, they grabbed me by both arms and started dragging me towards the cab stand.
Gorilla 1: "Sir you're barred from Caesars. For life."
Trashman: "OK"
See even I know when not to put up a fight.
They threw me in a cab and sent me across the street to Harrahs.
I don't remember the ride, just that it cost me $100.00 to cross the street. I remember getting in the cab and then I came too in the hallway being kicked in the leg by one of Harrahs finest.
Harrahs Security: "Is this your room sir?"
Trashman: "Does this key work?"
I handed him my electronic card.
Harrahs Security: "Yes sir."
Trashman: "Then it must be my room."
They opened the door and Kelly was standing there. Uh-oh we woke her up.
Harrahs Security: "Ma'am does this belong to you?"
Kelly: "Yeah?"
Harrahs Security: "Where do you want him?"
Kelly: "Just drop him in the floor."
Harrahs Security: "Sir don't leave the room tonight."
Trashman: "OK"
I passed out on the floor, when I woke up the sun was shining though the window and Kelly was gone. I gradually stood up and looked and myself in the mirror. It was horrible, and then the stink hit me, I almost puked again. My suit was encrusted with puke and shit and God knows what else. I crawled into the shower fully clothed and turned on the water. The stuff was hardened on and I knew the only way I was going to get it off was, wet. After my shower I bagged up the suit and called the front desk to pick up some dry cleaning. Kelly came back to the room and I asked where she had been. I was informed she had to leave due to the stink. Go figure.
When it was returned the next day I called the front desk and chewed some ass for the cleaners ruining my suit. They cut me a check for $650.00. I only paid $350.00 for the suit in the first place.
So now y'all know the story. I had public sex, shit on myself, fell in my own vomit, got barred from Caesars for life, and ruined a suit but I made $300.00 on the deal.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
I'm Back, Pukin' Relish
As y'all know by now, Jen and I met Zelda and Jethro for lunch last Saturday. After hanging with Jack for 20 years it was refreshing to have an intelligent conversation with someone. They are amazing people and their kids were fantastic. I don't think I've ever seen two better behaved kids. I'd like to know how they get their kids to be so good. I use fear myself.
They're the first bloggers I've ever met (Jack doesn't count, of course that's nothing new). I can't wait to hang out with them again. We talked for five hours. Five hours of puke filled conversation. The subject changed several times but it always came back to puke. I couldn't have been happier. We had to leave way to early to suit me, Jen and I had to go to my bosses wife's birthday party. I would have rather stayed at The Broken Spoke. I felt like I had known them all my life and I wasn't ready for the party to end. But like all good things, etc. etc. etc.
I would suggest that if you get a chance to meet them. Do it. You'll never meet a finer pair and Jethro ain't bad either (Sorry had to throw in some breast humor). I'm sure there's a lot more I could say about them, but I'm running on empty right now. I've worked 14 hour day's all week and I probably won't get a day off until next weekend. I won't bore you with that though.
Instead I'm giving you three choices for my next post. Y'all know how this works. Most votes wins.
1. Barred From Caesars Palace For Life
2. Dead Chick In The Van
3. The Truth About Gas Prices (This one could get me killed)
Let your conscience guide you or vote number three if you want me dead.
They're the first bloggers I've ever met (Jack doesn't count, of course that's nothing new). I can't wait to hang out with them again. We talked for five hours. Five hours of puke filled conversation. The subject changed several times but it always came back to puke. I couldn't have been happier. We had to leave way to early to suit me, Jen and I had to go to my bosses wife's birthday party. I would have rather stayed at The Broken Spoke. I felt like I had known them all my life and I wasn't ready for the party to end. But like all good things, etc. etc. etc.
I would suggest that if you get a chance to meet them. Do it. You'll never meet a finer pair and Jethro ain't bad either (Sorry had to throw in some breast humor). I'm sure there's a lot more I could say about them, but I'm running on empty right now. I've worked 14 hour day's all week and I probably won't get a day off until next weekend. I won't bore you with that though.
Instead I'm giving you three choices for my next post. Y'all know how this works. Most votes wins.
1. Barred From Caesars Palace For Life
2. Dead Chick In The Van
3. The Truth About Gas Prices (This one could get me killed)
Let your conscience guide you or vote number three if you want me dead.
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