No, not me personally...but this was how a friend of mine recently started a phone conversation with me. Yikes. I thought MY recent situation was bad! It kind of makes you appreciate the things you have, AND the things you DON'T have, like a zygote in your uterus and/or money.
If you read this on facebook, can you please comment on how YOU would respond to such a statement? I couldn't really tell right away from the tone of her voice how upset she was, or if she was upset at all. Was this a panicked phone call to a friend looking for advice, or was it just a topic for conversation? I felt like the first words to leave my lips would be critical. I had a very crucial and delicate decision to make, cause as we all know, bitches be crazy, and it would be my ass if I came back with the wrong response.
Many things ran through my mind in a flash as to what to say initially. My ideas ranged from simple, obvious questions, to trying to be consoling, to asking what I could do, to trying to make light of the situation, to utter dumbfoundedness. We'll use the name "Late Girl" for the purposes of this story. Examples of my first words included: "Oh shit Late Girl! Why do you think you're pregnant?" "How late are you?" "Wait, are you seeing someone right now?" "Ummm....did you take the test yet?" "Why did you feel the need to tell me you had to pay with quarters? Are you implying that you're poor, or are you saying you need to do laundry at my house?" "Ahhh...I know we're good friends, but am I the first person you should be telling this to?" "Did the guy not have a twenty he could have spotted you?" "Do you need to borrow money for tampons just in case it comes out negative?" "Shit Late Girl, you couldn't have waited a couple days to get a paycheck? I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty sure a couple days doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things." "Are you shitting me?" "So what are you gonna do if it's positive." "How much do those piss sticks cost?" "In theory, would you have to do any less laundry if you don't get your period, thus saving you quarters, or is the difference negligible?" "Is it too late for plan B?" "Do you need a hug?" "If you ARE pregnant, there's no chance it's MINE, is there?" OK, I made that last one up, a guy doesn't generally get a girl pregnant if it's been 3 years since they've slept together, and when it did happen, both of us passed out drunk before it was over.
Knowing the severity of the consequences had I said the wrong thing, I bought myself some more crucial seconds...precious time, by pausing a moment, and finally uttering the following in a confused tone: "Wait...Late Girl....say that again? What are you talking about?"
She sighed and repeated herself. "Laundry quarters Vinny...I walked into the pharmacy with a five-dollar bill and my Ziploc bag full of quarters. I walked up to the cashier with the cheapest pregnancy test I could find, a hood over my head, and shame filled embarrassment plastered on my face."
"Maybe if you had let something else get plastered on your face, you wouldn't have been in this situation."
"THAT'S NOT FUCKING FUNNY!"
I cringed for a second. Perhaps making light of the situation was the wrong way to go. After a few scary seconds; however, she laughed. Disaster averted, well relatively speaking. I suppose the overall disaster of the situation was still very much in play. "What am I gonna dooooooooo?" She whined.
How the fuck should I know? Was this a question of what is she gonna do if she's pregnant, where is she going to get more, actual paper money, or how is she gonna do her laundry? I suppose it was most likely a combination of all of the above.
"Well what are you waiting for? Why don't you take the test and see what it says? Wouldn't it resolve what is clearly an unanswered, stressful question?" Quickly transforming into consoling friend mode--"Tell you what, why don't you come by, take the test over here, and you can even bring your laundry...how does that sound?"
She thought it over for a second. "No, I'm just gonna take it in the morning, that's when your pee is most concentrated." I held my phone away from my ear, leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and sighed. I love Late Girl, I've been friends with her for half my life, we have shared many emotional conversations, consoled each other during break-ups, gave each other advice on life in general, and even shared genitals from time to time; but what the FUCK is she trying to get at right now. WHAT does she want me to say or do. There was no resolution that I could have come to at this very moment, with this very phone call.
"Listen, Late Girl, I don't know what you need. Just tell me what you want me to do. Do you need to borrow some money? Do you need to borrow my toilet or washing machine? Seriously dude, I'm fishing for shit to say to you right now."
"I don't KNOW Vinny, I'm just freaking out."
"Wait, who are you even banging?"
"It was just a hookup, we were drunk...don't judge me."
"Whatever Late Girl. Listen, just calm down, wait until the morning, take the test, and let me know what it says. We'll figure something out. Why is it that you felt the need to buy a test in such a hurry anyways? How long ago did you bang this clown?"
"Like 3 weeks ago."
"Wait...3 weeks ago? When were you supposed to get your period? What makes you think you're pregnant?"
"I was supposed to get my period like a couple days ago or something, but I threw up this morning."
The stupidity of her answer nearly made me collapse to my knees, especially because my friend is very intelligent. I'm a guy. I have no idea what it feels like to be pregnant, to have a period, or to have morning sickness. What I DO know, is that I've made a couple kids. I've been with the mother of my children as they found out they were pregnant, and what the general signs of pregnancy are. In fairness to Late Girl, she is a little younger than me and has never been pregnant, she only has one brother, and I suppose being a couple days late and throwing up could have possibly made her a little anxious....but was she shitting me?
Instead of completely tearing into her and breaking her balls without mercy, (juuuuuuust in case I wound up being wrong,) I took the high road. "You're not pregnant Late Girl. You probably ate some bad chicken or something. There's nothing to worry about right now except maybe getting your underwear clean, ok?"
"OK. Thanks Vinny, I just figured with you being a dad, you'd know about this stuff."
"What I do know is that before you use your last dime to buy a pregnancy test, call me FIRST next time, ok? Chances are you're not pregnant, and if you are, we'll figure something out, ok?"
"Alright Vinny, sorry to call you like this, I just get freaked out. It was such a mistake to....." Blah, blah, blah....she went on for like another 5 minutes and I just yupped her to death.
I never did get a call to find out if my friend's test came out positive. I'm assuming it didn't, since I probably would have received a not-too pleasant, tear filled, follow-up phone call 2-5 minutes later, or possibly in the morning. No call came. We haven't spoken in the last couple weeks, since this ridiculous call went down.
I guess the point of the story is to educate those of you out there who are about to spend your last bag of laundry quarters. Don't. And if you do, don't tell anyone about it, because it will probably end up as a blog entry on the Internet.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Merry Christmas
Ah, the holidays! Depending on your point of view, either the happiest or shittiest time of year. First of all, can we stop with all the "Happy Holidays" bullshit? It's CHRISTMAS, ok? Can we just agree on that. Say it with me, "Merry Christmas!" It's ok...you're not going to get sneered at or be spit on or struck down by some God who isn't your God if you say Merry Christmas, I promise. Whenever I hear "Happy Holidays," because of political correctness, it makes me want to punch myself in the face until I'm unconscious. Who the hell do these people think they are trying to call a Christmas tree a "Holiday Tree?" So you're just going to forgo hundreds of years of tradition just to be politically correct?
Guess what? If you know someone is Jewish, wish them Happy Hanukkah, or Chanukah, or whatever the fuck...if you know someone celebrates Christmas, wish them a Merry Christmas. If you're not sure, go with the most popular one, the one that kids get a week off of school from...you guessed it, Merry Christmas!
Now listen, I'm the least religious person I know. My family is Catholic, and I went to Sunday school and occasionally church when I was a kid, but I would consider myself Agnostic. If you don't know what that means, go look it up, I'm not a fucking dictionary. My kids have not been baptised or Christened and they don't have Godparents. If they choose to pick a religion when they're older, that will be fine with me. I was not going to force something on them before they were able to sit up. Go ahead and judge me if you want to, but that's how my ex-wife and I are playing it.
Having said that, it's CHRISTMAS season. CHRISTMAS is the holiday that MOST people celebrate. If you're Jewish, that's awesome. Good for you. If you're Muslim, great! Taoist, Buddhist, Hindu, I don't give a flying, shit-covered fuck. If you are celebrating a holiday in December, you are celebrating Christmas. You know it, I know it, and so does the entire world....(except maybe the Middle East, but who cares about that desolate hell hole...even the sane Muslims know what's up.)
Disclaimer, by the way, before any nice, practicing Muslims try to track this IP address and get all uppity....relax. Everyone knows you're out there. Everyone knows that you can practice religion and pray to Allah or whoever you want to and everybody knows that the crazy Muslims shouldn't be lumped in with you, so just relax and put a sock in it already....jeezus. And another thing, if you get racially profiled at the airport, too fucking bad!! How many Asians have taken down an airplane? Somebody find out and get back to me. If you look like a Middle Eastern terrorist, just roll with it. I apologize on behalf of white people everywhere, but the extremists who happen to look like you fucked it up for the rest of you, so just sit there, get your luggage checked, and move on with your lives. Just to seem a lot less racist, because I'm NOT racist; in my opinion, any white kids who dress all Gothic and wear trench coats to school...what do they call them these days? Emo kids? I think THEY should be profiled too. Some people who look like you other Emo kids who just want to "Rage Against the Machine" and peacefully mind there own business and listen to heavy metal fucked it up for the rest of you...too bad. Deal with it. When my kids go to school in a couple years, you're damn right I'm going to personally check out every Emo kid and Muslim kid in their schools. Call me crazy, but you can thank Osama Bin Laden, Eric Reid, Eric Harris, and Dylan Klebold. I'll be damned if MY kids are gonna get shot up just because they want to play sports or are popular or aren't Muslim. Fuck that noise. I'll run a full background check on anybody I think is suspect, and I don't care what people think of me. These are the times we live in.
Back to the Holiday Season. Merry Christmas everyone. Merry Christmas especially to those Americans serving this year overseas and Merry Christmas to their families who will be spending Christmas thousands of miles away from their loved ones. Happy Hanukkah to the Jewish soldiers and THEIR families, and whatever else you want to say to them individually. Don't lump them all in to "Happy Holidays." Charlie Brown deserves better. Are they going to rename it "Charlie Brown's Holiday Special." How about Chevy Chase in "National Lampoon's Holiday Vacation." "A Holiday Story" where Ralphie shoots his eye out? I know, let's rename "A Christmas Carol" written by Charles Dickens in 1843 to "A Holiday Carol."
So this week's giant "Fuck You" goes to the politicians and corporations who think it's such a great idea to change every tradition that everyone has known since they were born.
Have some fucking common sense people. And this is coming from someone who asks, "What the hell has Jesus Christ done for me lately?"
Guess what? If you know someone is Jewish, wish them Happy Hanukkah, or Chanukah, or whatever the fuck...if you know someone celebrates Christmas, wish them a Merry Christmas. If you're not sure, go with the most popular one, the one that kids get a week off of school from...you guessed it, Merry Christmas!
Now listen, I'm the least religious person I know. My family is Catholic, and I went to Sunday school and occasionally church when I was a kid, but I would consider myself Agnostic. If you don't know what that means, go look it up, I'm not a fucking dictionary. My kids have not been baptised or Christened and they don't have Godparents. If they choose to pick a religion when they're older, that will be fine with me. I was not going to force something on them before they were able to sit up. Go ahead and judge me if you want to, but that's how my ex-wife and I are playing it.
Having said that, it's CHRISTMAS season. CHRISTMAS is the holiday that MOST people celebrate. If you're Jewish, that's awesome. Good for you. If you're Muslim, great! Taoist, Buddhist, Hindu, I don't give a flying, shit-covered fuck. If you are celebrating a holiday in December, you are celebrating Christmas. You know it, I know it, and so does the entire world....(except maybe the Middle East, but who cares about that desolate hell hole...even the sane Muslims know what's up.)
Disclaimer, by the way, before any nice, practicing Muslims try to track this IP address and get all uppity....relax. Everyone knows you're out there. Everyone knows that you can practice religion and pray to Allah or whoever you want to and everybody knows that the crazy Muslims shouldn't be lumped in with you, so just relax and put a sock in it already....jeezus. And another thing, if you get racially profiled at the airport, too fucking bad!! How many Asians have taken down an airplane? Somebody find out and get back to me. If you look like a Middle Eastern terrorist, just roll with it. I apologize on behalf of white people everywhere, but the extremists who happen to look like you fucked it up for the rest of you, so just sit there, get your luggage checked, and move on with your lives. Just to seem a lot less racist, because I'm NOT racist; in my opinion, any white kids who dress all Gothic and wear trench coats to school...what do they call them these days? Emo kids? I think THEY should be profiled too. Some people who look like you other Emo kids who just want to "Rage Against the Machine" and peacefully mind there own business and listen to heavy metal fucked it up for the rest of you...too bad. Deal with it. When my kids go to school in a couple years, you're damn right I'm going to personally check out every Emo kid and Muslim kid in their schools. Call me crazy, but you can thank Osama Bin Laden, Eric Reid, Eric Harris, and Dylan Klebold. I'll be damned if MY kids are gonna get shot up just because they want to play sports or are popular or aren't Muslim. Fuck that noise. I'll run a full background check on anybody I think is suspect, and I don't care what people think of me. These are the times we live in.
Back to the Holiday Season. Merry Christmas everyone. Merry Christmas especially to those Americans serving this year overseas and Merry Christmas to their families who will be spending Christmas thousands of miles away from their loved ones. Happy Hanukkah to the Jewish soldiers and THEIR families, and whatever else you want to say to them individually. Don't lump them all in to "Happy Holidays." Charlie Brown deserves better. Are they going to rename it "Charlie Brown's Holiday Special." How about Chevy Chase in "National Lampoon's Holiday Vacation." "A Holiday Story" where Ralphie shoots his eye out? I know, let's rename "A Christmas Carol" written by Charles Dickens in 1843 to "A Holiday Carol."
So this week's giant "Fuck You" goes to the politicians and corporations who think it's such a great idea to change every tradition that everyone has known since they were born.
Have some fucking common sense people. And this is coming from someone who asks, "What the hell has Jesus Christ done for me lately?"
Thursday, November 24, 2011
My Love for Alice's Restaurant
Is there a better day of the year than Thanksgiving? Not in my estimation. When you're younger, obviously, Christmas takes the top spot, but to have a day where so much good is celebrated is not something to be taken lightly.
Let's get the obvious out of the way. Most people love to eat. I know I do. There's no better feeling than stuffing yourself full of turkey and all the fixin's and plopping your fat ass on the couch, football on in the background, socializing with your family and/or friends, some of whom maybe you haven't seen in a while.
Before that; however, if you aren't hungover too much from the night before, the day usually starts with going to watch your old high school football team. Maybe you have some coffee or hot chocolate to keep you warm...maybe you have some Brandi..no judgement here. It's a good time to run into some old high school friends and people you haven't seen in a while and catch up.
After the game your day could go a number of ways. Maybe you go home and watch the parade for a bit. Maybe you're doing the cooking for the day. Maybe you're travelling and bundle the kids up and head to grammy's house. Perhaps you make some last minute adjustments to your fantasy football league. Whatever the case may be, the day is full of promise, turkey, and of course the noontime playing of Alice's Restaurant on the radio, one of my favorite traditions.
Despite everything that's good about Thanksgiving physically...the food, the family, the traditions...I think my favorite part about the holiday is that it gives me an excuse to look at the good things in my life. Not that I should need an excuse, but inevitably, it DOES give me a good reason. There are plenty of things in my life that I'm thankful for. My beautiful children, the family and friends in my life, the memories of the family and friends who aren't here any more, the Patriots, my relative good health...shit, I'm even thankful for all of my ex-wives. How often do I allow myself to say that? Not very often, I assure you. If any of you heathens are out there reading this, by the way...thank you for being fantastic mom's to our kids. I mean that with all my soul. And know, I guess, that I don't really think you're fire-breathing, god-forsaken succubi...I'm just having some fun with yas, you stupid bitches. (I would insert a smiley face right here or some other emoticon, but I'm not a homo.)
Another good thing about Thanksgiving? Once the day is over and you're in a turkey coma, you have 3 more days off of work and pounds of leftovers to bring home. What other holiday can claim those bonuses? Most importantly, allow yourself to remember those close to you that you've lost, and allow yourself to appreciate those who will eventually no longer be with us. It's important. Show thanks for them.
Happy Thanksgiving everybody. Really think about all the good in your life, even if you have piles of bad. There's 364 remaining days in the year for self-pity, so enjoy today. Use it to reflect on all the good, I promise it will make you feel like you're on top of the world, if only for one day, and even if you're in a really bad place in your life. Just remember the story of Alice's Restaurant. Hell, those clowns had nothing going for them, but when the dust settled, they had each other, and the promise of a great holiday to fall back on.
Let's get the obvious out of the way. Most people love to eat. I know I do. There's no better feeling than stuffing yourself full of turkey and all the fixin's and plopping your fat ass on the couch, football on in the background, socializing with your family and/or friends, some of whom maybe you haven't seen in a while.
Before that; however, if you aren't hungover too much from the night before, the day usually starts with going to watch your old high school football team. Maybe you have some coffee or hot chocolate to keep you warm...maybe you have some Brandi..no judgement here. It's a good time to run into some old high school friends and people you haven't seen in a while and catch up.
After the game your day could go a number of ways. Maybe you go home and watch the parade for a bit. Maybe you're doing the cooking for the day. Maybe you're travelling and bundle the kids up and head to grammy's house. Perhaps you make some last minute adjustments to your fantasy football league. Whatever the case may be, the day is full of promise, turkey, and of course the noontime playing of Alice's Restaurant on the radio, one of my favorite traditions.
Despite everything that's good about Thanksgiving physically...the food, the family, the traditions...I think my favorite part about the holiday is that it gives me an excuse to look at the good things in my life. Not that I should need an excuse, but inevitably, it DOES give me a good reason. There are plenty of things in my life that I'm thankful for. My beautiful children, the family and friends in my life, the memories of the family and friends who aren't here any more, the Patriots, my relative good health...shit, I'm even thankful for all of my ex-wives. How often do I allow myself to say that? Not very often, I assure you. If any of you heathens are out there reading this, by the way...thank you for being fantastic mom's to our kids. I mean that with all my soul. And know, I guess, that I don't really think you're fire-breathing, god-forsaken succubi...I'm just having some fun with yas, you stupid bitches. (I would insert a smiley face right here or some other emoticon, but I'm not a homo.)
Another good thing about Thanksgiving? Once the day is over and you're in a turkey coma, you have 3 more days off of work and pounds of leftovers to bring home. What other holiday can claim those bonuses? Most importantly, allow yourself to remember those close to you that you've lost, and allow yourself to appreciate those who will eventually no longer be with us. It's important. Show thanks for them.
Happy Thanksgiving everybody. Really think about all the good in your life, even if you have piles of bad. There's 364 remaining days in the year for self-pity, so enjoy today. Use it to reflect on all the good, I promise it will make you feel like you're on top of the world, if only for one day, and even if you're in a really bad place in your life. Just remember the story of Alice's Restaurant. Hell, those clowns had nothing going for them, but when the dust settled, they had each other, and the promise of a great holiday to fall back on.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Cold November Rain
Anyone who believes that money makes the man is either rich or ignorant, or both. I've come across some real assholes in my day...the majority of them have been business owners, beneficiaries, or other rich people with an undeserved sense of self worth...as if the fact that they have money automatically catapults them into some kind of "level" above the rest of us. The only people tolerable that have money are those who have worked their entire lives to earn it. If those SAME people, make their children work just as hard to earn money and respect as they grow, then all the better. I'm not saying that if you're a parent, and you can afford it, that you shouldn't help out your kids or close family or friends when they need help...but just handing them money and spoiling them will just turn them into douchebags...I've seen it countless times.
My real beef is with people, men or women, who have a big time title or even own a company and deal with their employees directly as if they were lesser forms of human. This goes out to these people directly. FUCK YOU! You think because you have more money or a better title then me, that makes you a better man? Nope. In fact, in most cases, it makes you one of the biggest assholes on the planet. And yes, of course I'm speaking from direct experience.
It's a shitty thing that there are people in this country and around the world who literally live in shacks and have to hunt their own food or play soccer with a fucking coconut. I've seen it. It's not cool. In the meantime, we have CEO's of companies who literally have anything and everything they want. It's always the people who work the hardest who make the least amount of money, too. Something's wrong with that. I know it will never change. It's the way it is. There's nothing we can do about it. We can't solve world hunger, we'll never have world peace, and the rich will always get richer before the poor get a meal.
All of the above sounds really preachy, I know, but it doesn't make it not true. I hate being poor. I hate living paycheck to paycheck and not being able to help out my family, who is also poor as fuck. I don't like filing unemployment every week and going to eviction hearings. I don't like getting laid off and having to withdraw my 401(k). I even bought an $8,000 ring from a jewelery store one time on a credit card and sold it for $2,000 at a pawn shop just so I could get some cash. And you know what the fucked up thing is? I'm a LUCKY one! I have my health, for now, and friends and family and wonderful kids who look up to me, no matter how much money I make or don't make. I don't have to worry about my kids getting dysentery because I live in a place where health care is available. It's not a perfect system, I know, but it's better than being in Somalia.
That's what irritates me about these smug fucks who can go out and buy whatever they want and send their kids to the best schools in the world and SAVE money and retire early and travel around the world. They have NO IDEA how lucky they are. They'll never understand. They'll say ignorant shit to poor tour guides like, "Gee, how much would it be to buy up a bunch of this land?" I'm not making that up, I was on a cruise during my honeymoon and some stuck up, cunt of a rich bitch from Manhattan actually asked our tour guide through the most poverty stricken part of the Dominican Republic. It took everything I had, and the begging of my wife at the time, not to wage an all out war against this absolute disease of a woman who had thousands of dollars of jewels but refused to give a dollar bill to any of the kids begging, (yes begging) for a buck from us rich Americans. It made me sick.
These facts make me realize; however, that THEY are the douchebags and the drains on society..not me, and certainly not the people who eat at soup kitchens or live in the streets. We're real people. You know who's fake? The people that pay thousands of dollars to go on cruises to places like the Dominican Republic and take a tour through what is easily the poorest place they've ever seen and instead of being enlightened, they snub their noses at these poor people who live day to day with no supermarket to buy food from, no running water, nothing. Compared to us, they have nothing. I'm ok with it...trust me. Better them than me. I'm not trying to sound cold, but seriously. At the same time, I make enough to barely keep a roof over my head and food on my kids table. At the same time, I'm not going to sit here and shit on people who have less than me.
So anyways, go fuck yourself rich people.
Also, I hate people who take slow right turns in their cars and I am REALLY not a fan of Jimmy Fallon.
My real beef is with people, men or women, who have a big time title or even own a company and deal with their employees directly as if they were lesser forms of human. This goes out to these people directly. FUCK YOU! You think because you have more money or a better title then me, that makes you a better man? Nope. In fact, in most cases, it makes you one of the biggest assholes on the planet. And yes, of course I'm speaking from direct experience.
It's a shitty thing that there are people in this country and around the world who literally live in shacks and have to hunt their own food or play soccer with a fucking coconut. I've seen it. It's not cool. In the meantime, we have CEO's of companies who literally have anything and everything they want. It's always the people who work the hardest who make the least amount of money, too. Something's wrong with that. I know it will never change. It's the way it is. There's nothing we can do about it. We can't solve world hunger, we'll never have world peace, and the rich will always get richer before the poor get a meal.
All of the above sounds really preachy, I know, but it doesn't make it not true. I hate being poor. I hate living paycheck to paycheck and not being able to help out my family, who is also poor as fuck. I don't like filing unemployment every week and going to eviction hearings. I don't like getting laid off and having to withdraw my 401(k). I even bought an $8,000 ring from a jewelery store one time on a credit card and sold it for $2,000 at a pawn shop just so I could get some cash. And you know what the fucked up thing is? I'm a LUCKY one! I have my health, for now, and friends and family and wonderful kids who look up to me, no matter how much money I make or don't make. I don't have to worry about my kids getting dysentery because I live in a place where health care is available. It's not a perfect system, I know, but it's better than being in Somalia.
That's what irritates me about these smug fucks who can go out and buy whatever they want and send their kids to the best schools in the world and SAVE money and retire early and travel around the world. They have NO IDEA how lucky they are. They'll never understand. They'll say ignorant shit to poor tour guides like, "Gee, how much would it be to buy up a bunch of this land?" I'm not making that up, I was on a cruise during my honeymoon and some stuck up, cunt of a rich bitch from Manhattan actually asked our tour guide through the most poverty stricken part of the Dominican Republic. It took everything I had, and the begging of my wife at the time, not to wage an all out war against this absolute disease of a woman who had thousands of dollars of jewels but refused to give a dollar bill to any of the kids begging, (yes begging) for a buck from us rich Americans. It made me sick.
These facts make me realize; however, that THEY are the douchebags and the drains on society..not me, and certainly not the people who eat at soup kitchens or live in the streets. We're real people. You know who's fake? The people that pay thousands of dollars to go on cruises to places like the Dominican Republic and take a tour through what is easily the poorest place they've ever seen and instead of being enlightened, they snub their noses at these poor people who live day to day with no supermarket to buy food from, no running water, nothing. Compared to us, they have nothing. I'm ok with it...trust me. Better them than me. I'm not trying to sound cold, but seriously. At the same time, I make enough to barely keep a roof over my head and food on my kids table. At the same time, I'm not going to sit here and shit on people who have less than me.
So anyways, go fuck yourself rich people.
Also, I hate people who take slow right turns in their cars and I am REALLY not a fan of Jimmy Fallon.
Monday, October 31, 2011
The Invasion of Montreal-Part deux
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Friday, October 21, 2011
The Invasion of Montreal
Part 1
How do you say, "Holy shit, that stripper just blew me in the back room for twenty bucks!" in French?
It doesn't matter, because for a couple of nights many years ago, when the Red Sox played a few road games against the now defunct Montreal Expos, the entire city was occupied by New Englanders. Everyone important enough within earshot spoke English!
Tangent alert:
First of all, Montreal, and on a broader scope, the province of Quebec...who the hell do you think you are? Speak English like the rest of the majority north of the Rio Grande. I understand that the area was initially settled by the French 300 years ago, but ya know what? Mexico was settled, (ok, ravaged) by the Spanish but they're at least smart enough to TRY to learn English.
Quebec is so arrogant that they thumb their noses at us in the states, which I suppose you could understand...but they do the same thing against the rest of their OWN COUNTRY!! They tried to secede from Canada in the 90's!! Does anyone remember this? Does anybody care? They wanted to be their own country! Really, Quebec? You wanted to secede from one of the most stable countries in the world, who have free health care and virtually no enemies, and start your OWN country? Is "douchebag" a French word? I think it is....
Quebec wanted to start their own government and literally become the country of Quebec. What the hell would the "country" of Quebec have to offer the world? Nobody cares about Celine Dion anymore. What would their main export be? Would they have a two-team hockey league? How would they self-sustain without leaching off America and the country that they just told to "fuck off?" "Ummm....yeah, Canada...I know we just told you to go fuck yourselves and became our own country and everything...but the only natural resource we have is moose, can you help us out?" This is not to mention the fact that every terrorist in the world would probably set up shop in the "country" of Quebec. They would practically have to rename the country West Lybia. If they're anything like their surrender monkey mother land, France, they would welcome the terrorists with open arms, give them homes, money, free health care. They wouldn't have to hide in caves, they could send suicide bombers down the Appalachian trail.
This was a REAL thing!! They voted on it, and it almost went down. Would nobody have stepped in and said, "Ya know what, this is probably a bad idea."
Anyways, back to the Invasion of Montreal:
Aren't the greatest adventures the ones that begin with a spur of the moment idea that seems so great at the time, you could swear you just invented space flight? That's how this road trip began. Me, four other guys sitting in my studio apartment, and a dream. The Sox were playing the Expos in Montreal, as I said, for a weekend series. I returned home from work at around 2 p.m. on the Friday and a few of my buddies came by my tiny studio apartment. B-Ride, his cousin JB, Gunny, and my brother Joey. Me, B-Ride, and Gunny were 20 years old. JB was 24, and Joey was only 15.
"What should we do tonight." A bar was out of the question. We could get booze, but then what? Have people over my place, affectionately know as the "Crack Shack." There was a bed, a love seat size sofa, and a small t.v. The kitchen was the size of a normal sized bathroom. Needless to say, our options were limited.
Someone, I forget who, threw it out there. "We should just drive to Montreal." It was meant to be a throw-away suggestion....a joke...but it was a spark that ignited the wheels of our young minds to turn. After a few minutes of everyone thinking the same thing but nobody saying anything, JB spoke up. "Why couldn't we go?" Joey was 15, he was out. B-Ride had something going on the next day. Me and Gunny were in. I did some quick math. "If we leave right now, we could be there by like 9 o'clock, we could go out, grab a hotel, and get tickets to the game tomorrow." Clearly a fool-proof plan, right? The only problem was that every one else in the entire northeast had the same idea. Looking back, it's shocking to me that we thought we were the only ones brilliant enough to head up to Montreal. What's even MORE retarded is how we thought that nobody else had this weekend planned and their hotels and game tickets secured for months. The excitement and spontaneity of the situation clouded our judgement. Yoda would clearly be very worried about us turning to the dark side if he had seen us at this point.
We got in the car, maybe a few hundred bucks between us, no bags, no supplies. We made a quick stop at the gas station and got some snacks and gas, and we were off. Our neighbors to the north had no idea what was in store for them.
How do you say, "Holy shit, that stripper just blew me in the back room for twenty bucks!" in French?
It doesn't matter, because for a couple of nights many years ago, when the Red Sox played a few road games against the now defunct Montreal Expos, the entire city was occupied by New Englanders. Everyone important enough within earshot spoke English!
Tangent alert:
First of all, Montreal, and on a broader scope, the province of Quebec...who the hell do you think you are? Speak English like the rest of the majority north of the Rio Grande. I understand that the area was initially settled by the French 300 years ago, but ya know what? Mexico was settled, (ok, ravaged) by the Spanish but they're at least smart enough to TRY to learn English.
Quebec is so arrogant that they thumb their noses at us in the states, which I suppose you could understand...but they do the same thing against the rest of their OWN COUNTRY!! They tried to secede from Canada in the 90's!! Does anyone remember this? Does anybody care? They wanted to be their own country! Really, Quebec? You wanted to secede from one of the most stable countries in the world, who have free health care and virtually no enemies, and start your OWN country? Is "douchebag" a French word? I think it is....
Quebec wanted to start their own government and literally become the country of Quebec. What the hell would the "country" of Quebec have to offer the world? Nobody cares about Celine Dion anymore. What would their main export be? Would they have a two-team hockey league? How would they self-sustain without leaching off America and the country that they just told to "fuck off?" "Ummm....yeah, Canada...I know we just told you to go fuck yourselves and became our own country and everything...but the only natural resource we have is moose, can you help us out?" This is not to mention the fact that every terrorist in the world would probably set up shop in the "country" of Quebec. They would practically have to rename the country West Lybia. If they're anything like their surrender monkey mother land, France, they would welcome the terrorists with open arms, give them homes, money, free health care. They wouldn't have to hide in caves, they could send suicide bombers down the Appalachian trail.
This was a REAL thing!! They voted on it, and it almost went down. Would nobody have stepped in and said, "Ya know what, this is probably a bad idea."
Anyways, back to the Invasion of Montreal:
Aren't the greatest adventures the ones that begin with a spur of the moment idea that seems so great at the time, you could swear you just invented space flight? That's how this road trip began. Me, four other guys sitting in my studio apartment, and a dream. The Sox were playing the Expos in Montreal, as I said, for a weekend series. I returned home from work at around 2 p.m. on the Friday and a few of my buddies came by my tiny studio apartment. B-Ride, his cousin JB, Gunny, and my brother Joey. Me, B-Ride, and Gunny were 20 years old. JB was 24, and Joey was only 15.
"What should we do tonight." A bar was out of the question. We could get booze, but then what? Have people over my place, affectionately know as the "Crack Shack." There was a bed, a love seat size sofa, and a small t.v. The kitchen was the size of a normal sized bathroom. Needless to say, our options were limited.
Someone, I forget who, threw it out there. "We should just drive to Montreal." It was meant to be a throw-away suggestion....a joke...but it was a spark that ignited the wheels of our young minds to turn. After a few minutes of everyone thinking the same thing but nobody saying anything, JB spoke up. "Why couldn't we go?" Joey was 15, he was out. B-Ride had something going on the next day. Me and Gunny were in. I did some quick math. "If we leave right now, we could be there by like 9 o'clock, we could go out, grab a hotel, and get tickets to the game tomorrow." Clearly a fool-proof plan, right? The only problem was that every one else in the entire northeast had the same idea. Looking back, it's shocking to me that we thought we were the only ones brilliant enough to head up to Montreal. What's even MORE retarded is how we thought that nobody else had this weekend planned and their hotels and game tickets secured for months. The excitement and spontaneity of the situation clouded our judgement. Yoda would clearly be very worried about us turning to the dark side if he had seen us at this point.
We got in the car, maybe a few hundred bucks between us, no bags, no supplies. We made a quick stop at the gas station and got some snacks and gas, and we were off. Our neighbors to the north had no idea what was in store for them.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Rock Bottom Is Not That Bad
Unless you're dead, I guess.
My point is, sometimes you get poop on your finger. You do your very best to wash it off, but sometimes it really stinks for a while. Eventually, the stench dissipates and you go back to forging your finger ahead into the butthole that is life, hoping that the next time...it comes out clean on the other end. Cause life is shit sometimes. One day you can have it all figured out, and then you go and do something stupid. More likely, you commit a series of shitty mistakes. That, coupled with dumb, blind, shitty luck...and there you have it. Rock bottom.
People can have tough times, even when they have the best intentions. For the most part; however, bad things seem to happen in spurts. For those unlucky enough, when it rains, it pours, as they say. No matter how big your heart is and how much you pour into life and relationships, it might not be enough.
One guy I know was about to turn 30 years old. He had a great job, made a ton of money, had a wife and son, and was even thrown a surprise 30th birthday party with all his friends and family in attendance. He was on top of the mountain. Nothing, in his mind, could go wrong.
One month later, his wife left him and took his son. He moved back with his parents. He had meaningless sex with numerous girls in order to attempt to fill the lonely void of being separated. This poor bastard moved into a shitty apartment by himself and battled with his now ex-wife. They divorced. He was laid off from his job. He got a new job offer, with a great salary, and the position was taken away two days before he was supposed to start. He found out his ex-wife was in a serious relationship; the "new guy" spending more time with his son than he did. His mom was very sick. He had a shitty relationship with his father. His friends started to become distant.
Finally, he met a new woman. He hit it off right away with her. He even went so far as to think they would spend the rest of their lives together. The bond was that strong. The problem was, his life was in such shambles that the new woman, rightfully so, decided that he couldn't handle a relationship until he got back on his feet, and broke it off after a few months. He was evicted from his apartment shortly after. His debt piled up. There were no lucrative job offers on the table. In a nutshell, this guy was fucked.
As my friend's 31st birthday approached, things seemed pretty dim, to say the least. There were two directions he could have gone. Give up, or give it all he had to turn things around. This man, yes MAN, turned things around. He said to me, when I asked him what his plan was, "Vinny....no matter what happens to me and to my life, the sun is going to rise tomorrow. There will be new opportunities. There's only one way to go but up, at this point. I'm a hard worker. I'll find a new place to live, a great job...and maybe, just maybe, things will work out with the perfect girl that I stumbled upon. And if not, I'll move on. Life is going to happen, but only if I take it by the balls."
"The sun is going to rise tomorrow." That really hit home for me. No matter how bad things get in life, the world doesn't care. A new day will begin, and then another, and then another. You could be homeless, alone, and broke....but the world and all it's inhabitants don't give a shit. So you have to make your own way. You have to say, "Ya know what, FUCK YOU. I don't care what you throw at me, I'm gonna be fine. I'm gonna take all this shit, all this bad karma, and use it as fuel to pour on the fire under my ass to make myself better. If that's not being a man, I don't know what is.
I'm inspired by this man, and make no mistake, he is a man. A good man, with a good heart and a relentless sense of bettering himself. He's my inspiration. I thought he would break. I thought he would give up. Shit, I thought he might down a bottle of pills and just take himself out of the equation...but he never even got close to that point. Life beat the shit out of him. He just got up, dusted himself off, cleaned the poop off his finger, and soldiered on. That's what a man does when faced with adversity.
At some point, you need to take control, regardless of the hopelessness of the situation. If you ever find yourself in such a position. You can give up, sit on your couch, and say "Fuck it." OR, you can get beat down, get back up, and give life the proverbial uppercut to the nuts. Tomorrow is always another day. As long as you have air in your lungs and blood is pumping through your veins...you have the ability to own your destiny. You have the ability to go out and get the job you need, or change your career to something you love. You have the ability to get yourself back on your feet financially. You can be a great parent to your children. Hell, maybe you can even find your true soul mate, as gay as that sounds. Who knows, maybe it can even be the woman you needed to prove yourself to. Maybe she'll move on. It doesn't matter. It's a product of bettering one's self that either she'll see, or someone else will
I'm pulling for my buddy, I really am. I've never seen anyone battle life like he has and continues to do so. I know that if I ever hit rock bottom, the sun will rise every day. New opportunities will present themselves, and when they do, you need to grab them by the balls, squeeze, and not let go until you have what you want.
If you're in the same position as my friend. Don't be a bitch. Be a man. Fuck everyone else. Fuck the entire planet. It's all about you, and what you do with your day. You might not accomplish everything you need to overnight...but you know what, you'll go to sleep tonight, the sun will rise, the new day will begin, and you'll have a fresh start to fight for what you need. It's not hard. Rock bottom is not that bad. Rock bottom is just a great excuse to make yourself the best man you can be.
My point is, sometimes you get poop on your finger. You do your very best to wash it off, but sometimes it really stinks for a while. Eventually, the stench dissipates and you go back to forging your finger ahead into the butthole that is life, hoping that the next time...it comes out clean on the other end. Cause life is shit sometimes. One day you can have it all figured out, and then you go and do something stupid. More likely, you commit a series of shitty mistakes. That, coupled with dumb, blind, shitty luck...and there you have it. Rock bottom.
People can have tough times, even when they have the best intentions. For the most part; however, bad things seem to happen in spurts. For those unlucky enough, when it rains, it pours, as they say. No matter how big your heart is and how much you pour into life and relationships, it might not be enough.
One guy I know was about to turn 30 years old. He had a great job, made a ton of money, had a wife and son, and was even thrown a surprise 30th birthday party with all his friends and family in attendance. He was on top of the mountain. Nothing, in his mind, could go wrong.
One month later, his wife left him and took his son. He moved back with his parents. He had meaningless sex with numerous girls in order to attempt to fill the lonely void of being separated. This poor bastard moved into a shitty apartment by himself and battled with his now ex-wife. They divorced. He was laid off from his job. He got a new job offer, with a great salary, and the position was taken away two days before he was supposed to start. He found out his ex-wife was in a serious relationship; the "new guy" spending more time with his son than he did. His mom was very sick. He had a shitty relationship with his father. His friends started to become distant.
Finally, he met a new woman. He hit it off right away with her. He even went so far as to think they would spend the rest of their lives together. The bond was that strong. The problem was, his life was in such shambles that the new woman, rightfully so, decided that he couldn't handle a relationship until he got back on his feet, and broke it off after a few months. He was evicted from his apartment shortly after. His debt piled up. There were no lucrative job offers on the table. In a nutshell, this guy was fucked.
As my friend's 31st birthday approached, things seemed pretty dim, to say the least. There were two directions he could have gone. Give up, or give it all he had to turn things around. This man, yes MAN, turned things around. He said to me, when I asked him what his plan was, "Vinny....no matter what happens to me and to my life, the sun is going to rise tomorrow. There will be new opportunities. There's only one way to go but up, at this point. I'm a hard worker. I'll find a new place to live, a great job...and maybe, just maybe, things will work out with the perfect girl that I stumbled upon. And if not, I'll move on. Life is going to happen, but only if I take it by the balls."
"The sun is going to rise tomorrow." That really hit home for me. No matter how bad things get in life, the world doesn't care. A new day will begin, and then another, and then another. You could be homeless, alone, and broke....but the world and all it's inhabitants don't give a shit. So you have to make your own way. You have to say, "Ya know what, FUCK YOU. I don't care what you throw at me, I'm gonna be fine. I'm gonna take all this shit, all this bad karma, and use it as fuel to pour on the fire under my ass to make myself better. If that's not being a man, I don't know what is.
I'm inspired by this man, and make no mistake, he is a man. A good man, with a good heart and a relentless sense of bettering himself. He's my inspiration. I thought he would break. I thought he would give up. Shit, I thought he might down a bottle of pills and just take himself out of the equation...but he never even got close to that point. Life beat the shit out of him. He just got up, dusted himself off, cleaned the poop off his finger, and soldiered on. That's what a man does when faced with adversity.
At some point, you need to take control, regardless of the hopelessness of the situation. If you ever find yourself in such a position. You can give up, sit on your couch, and say "Fuck it." OR, you can get beat down, get back up, and give life the proverbial uppercut to the nuts. Tomorrow is always another day. As long as you have air in your lungs and blood is pumping through your veins...you have the ability to own your destiny. You have the ability to go out and get the job you need, or change your career to something you love. You have the ability to get yourself back on your feet financially. You can be a great parent to your children. Hell, maybe you can even find your true soul mate, as gay as that sounds. Who knows, maybe it can even be the woman you needed to prove yourself to. Maybe she'll move on. It doesn't matter. It's a product of bettering one's self that either she'll see, or someone else will
I'm pulling for my buddy, I really am. I've never seen anyone battle life like he has and continues to do so. I know that if I ever hit rock bottom, the sun will rise every day. New opportunities will present themselves, and when they do, you need to grab them by the balls, squeeze, and not let go until you have what you want.
If you're in the same position as my friend. Don't be a bitch. Be a man. Fuck everyone else. Fuck the entire planet. It's all about you, and what you do with your day. You might not accomplish everything you need to overnight...but you know what, you'll go to sleep tonight, the sun will rise, the new day will begin, and you'll have a fresh start to fight for what you need. It's not hard. Rock bottom is not that bad. Rock bottom is just a great excuse to make yourself the best man you can be.
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