I frantically searched through my oversized trashcan I call a handbag for a single dollar bill. Fives, tens, twentys, even a hundred dollar bill wadded in the bottom corner but no single dollars. I pulled out a fiver and slipped into the brightly lit death box, or Wheel of Fortune slot machine. Twenty credits... I gotta' make it last. I bet one credit, reached my right arm up to the long silver lever with the bulb on the end and pulled it toward me.
"WHEEL OF FORTUNE!", the machine yelled at me. Something happened it seemed good, and now I was getting to spin the wheel.
Round and round the wheel went 1000x10 being the highest 35 being the lowest. I struck it lamely at 35, of course. Bet another credit, nothing. Bet three credits, nothing. I was beginning to panic, my brow started to dampen, but I sat with a complete stare of boredom at the machine letting long exhausted bits of air escape through my lips so that if anyone around me, that I knew, happened to look my direction they would think I wasn't concerned with the winnings of a slot machine. But I was! I stopped and thought about how I really needed this lucky break and how I would do so much good if I could just win a bit of money. I began to pray, something I only do when I want to win money, or find money in a mysterious unmarked envelope on the sidewalk, or when I want to win money on a bingo scratch card, or when I want someone to show up at my front door with a gigantic check with my name on it.
"God pleeease let me win I swear I will share it with other people after I take care of my debt", then I thought to myself this isn't how prayers work I gotta' pray for others happiness then I will be rewarded, "actually God let the person next to me win I don't need it, I'll survive. Let everyone else, all the diaper wearin' blue hairs, in this casino win.. for the people God".
My wishes came through, my last credit... I won nothing. The people... won everything. Even this one dope who was with Pj Smorg, Margaret Louise, The Mayor, Durwood, the others, and me stuck one freakin' dollar in and won $250.00 bucks. Why him, he looks funny and has a lame girlfriend. A girlfriend who complained of the smoke in the shared hotel room with my friends and dicked them out of the rooms bill by demanding her own smoke free room. What did she think going to a wedding in the sinfilled town of Las Vegas agreeing to shack up with two smokers for a weekend, go back to church camp Mother Teresa! I was bitter now, once again I was in cheap crappy fanny pack sweat suit stank Vegas. All I wanted out of this shit town was a giant stuffed unicorn or a million dollars, that's nothing. Instead all I got was a hangover, and a chance to run into this guy I dated in Chicago for a brief spell who whenever we'd start to get it on would turn into a dog. Barking and panting, licking himself, and begging for treats and frisby tosses in the park. I got an attempted salad and mac-n-chees from the ever so lovely Harley Davidson Cafe, the kind of place you want to return your meal in the toilet seconds after digestion. The only thing worth remembering from the Vegas trip was the ride to and from where I spent many hours laughing and making road trip jokes with The Mayor and Margaret Louise, and the 45 seconds I spent on the rollar coaster at the casino where I saw the Dog Man.
I've spent the last 48 hours trying to escape the bling bling ching ching doodlydoodlydoodly sounds of the slot machines that are dancing unforgotten in my head, as I sit and wait for Ed and his giant check. One day, I know it, I'll be the big winner. Then me and the Dog Man can go get a ranch in Montana where he can run and run and run.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Old Crusty Prostitute
Last week when I was bartending I felt the overwhelming boredom fall over me as the tumbleweeds came blowing through the saloon doors at the front of my establishment. Just as I was about to walk out front into oncoming traffic, seemingly my only way out, the phone rang. It was Margaret Louise, one of my very dear friends, and she informed me she was going to come down and hang out with me. Thank God I thought, that'll save that poor bus driver from having to clean me off his grill after he'd hit me. No more than five seconds after I placed down the phone some customers started walking in.
The first two were these men roughly 30 years in age who appeared to be a couple that came in atleast once or twice a week. About a week ago at the end of the night the apeish looking one started the "tab is wrong" battle. As he put it so eloquently, "you just want to fuck me". As if that were why his bill was a whole whoppin' $42.00. I laughed out loud and said, "I want to fuck you? HAH!". Then I walked over to his table and counted all the bottles and glasses, seeing as how I hadn't cleaned a table all night, then calculated it out loud in front of him and said, "now sign your fuckin' tab bozo". He did.
So the lovers were back at the bar, the mousey one said to the Ape, "she's the bartender you were fighting with last week.".
I walked over, "ya' you WERE fighting with me.".
Ape, "you were waisted though and got my tab wrong.".
Me, " No YOU were waisted and do you remember the reason you thought the tab was wrong?" He looked confused, I continued, "It's because aparently you thought I wanted to fuck you and because you were unwilling I jacked up your tab, bring back any memories sport?"
He apologized, we laughed, and we made our ammends and poof! they had whiskey again. Following in a few moments after the ape and mouse was this beat up, sad eye'd, cheap rings of black eyeliner, peroxide job, in her 40's looking woman. She sat a few stools down from the boys and ordered one four doller glass of chianti. Within a couple of minutes the whole rim of the glass was covered in impossible to remove red lip prints.
Thirty to forty minutes had passed and the Ape and the Mouse had found their way to the Wine Whench. The boys were getting sloppy on their shots of whiskey, and her with her wine(glass now completely red from lipstick even the stem), and they had started the all too popular, "I love you bartender routine". One day they hate you cause' you want to fuck them, next day they love you. Then she started...
"..you have to love the body, want to kiss it everywhere. If you have a man(she was now directing it to me) you have to kiss him from head to toe," she reached around and started patting her own rear, "even every part of this gets kissed, you know what I mean?".
The Mouse spoke up, "you mean kiss the asshole". This made him giggle.
At this point the Mouse and the Ape were what seemed to be swording it out with their little nubs in a moment of gay rage underneath the bars edge. At the same time they seemed to be flirting with Old Crusty.
My attention thankfully was taken by my off duty security guard and 2 friends coming in for drinks. Two bud lights and a Shiner boch. Then Margaret Louise enters. I was thinking in my head, as she headed to the empty stool next to Old Crusty, oooo she's in for a treat.
More customers came in so between orders I would slide back over to where the Mouse, Margaret and Old Crusty were exchanging stories, the Ape was dancing around the middle of the bar alone. At some point the Mouse squeezed in to the other side of Margaret so she was in the middle of the two, a hard sandwich to swallow. Then as they were getting more excited about whatever sordid detail they were on would take turns hovering over the bar in front of Margaret. She was just laughing at the ridiculous invasion of her space. I wasn't there for the conversation but at one point I picked up Old Crusty saying, "... you got to do it everywhere, thee kitchen table, thee bedroom, and even sometimes you go out to thee car and(she put her arms bent by where her waistline would be and started thrusting her hips slightly forward) ugh ugh... you know". She looked at me, "you are very beautiful, what is your name?".
I told her my name, she then decided to tell me she loved me and that she wanted to open her own bar, just a wine and beer joint with possible appetizers. Her and Margaret started a conversation, the Mouse was dancing, as I went to serve 2 bud lights 1 shiner boch. I headed back over to my friend in need, then asked Old Crusty, "what's your name?"
"It is Amy.". She replied, this was a familiar name to me.
At one point Margaret excused herself to the bathroom and when she returned she sat at the other end of the bar near my off duty security and friends. They were filled in on the female trouble at the end of the bar.. they decide to further the fun with Old Crusty. My security walked over and within two minutes was pissed and came back over to our end. She had started scolding him for being mexican and not speaking spanish. This for whatever reason set off Tony, my securtiys Latin American friend. Tony and OC get into it. It's now 2am and I'm kicking out strangers, and somehow Tony ends up leaving with OC.
"What's that about?" I asked.
"We convinced him to take her home," his friends start laughing.
"You know he's getting murdered tonight." I say in all sincerity, that ol' bag didn't seem so stable.
No more than 15 minutes passed when there is a banging at the back door. It was Tony and him and OC got no further than two blocks away when she tried strangling him. I laughed. We all laughed. We spent the next 30 minutes or so filling each other in on the different things she had said to all of us. It seemed through all the stories she was apparently a prostitute whom liked women not men, maybe that's why she tried killing Tony.
On saturday I was at the other bar I work at when two of my customers who frequent my shifts at both bars came in. They were laughing and excited to tell me some story. It turns out on Thursday they had come to my bar and been acosted by an old crusty mexican prostite, who said she wanted to open her own hair salon. I couldn't have been happier and can't wait to hear more reports.
The first two were these men roughly 30 years in age who appeared to be a couple that came in atleast once or twice a week. About a week ago at the end of the night the apeish looking one started the "tab is wrong" battle. As he put it so eloquently, "you just want to fuck me". As if that were why his bill was a whole whoppin' $42.00. I laughed out loud and said, "I want to fuck you? HAH!". Then I walked over to his table and counted all the bottles and glasses, seeing as how I hadn't cleaned a table all night, then calculated it out loud in front of him and said, "now sign your fuckin' tab bozo". He did.
So the lovers were back at the bar, the mousey one said to the Ape, "she's the bartender you were fighting with last week.".
I walked over, "ya' you WERE fighting with me.".
Ape, "you were waisted though and got my tab wrong.".
Me, " No YOU were waisted and do you remember the reason you thought the tab was wrong?" He looked confused, I continued, "It's because aparently you thought I wanted to fuck you and because you were unwilling I jacked up your tab, bring back any memories sport?"
He apologized, we laughed, and we made our ammends and poof! they had whiskey again. Following in a few moments after the ape and mouse was this beat up, sad eye'd, cheap rings of black eyeliner, peroxide job, in her 40's looking woman. She sat a few stools down from the boys and ordered one four doller glass of chianti. Within a couple of minutes the whole rim of the glass was covered in impossible to remove red lip prints.
Thirty to forty minutes had passed and the Ape and the Mouse had found their way to the Wine Whench. The boys were getting sloppy on their shots of whiskey, and her with her wine(glass now completely red from lipstick even the stem), and they had started the all too popular, "I love you bartender routine". One day they hate you cause' you want to fuck them, next day they love you. Then she started...
"..you have to love the body, want to kiss it everywhere. If you have a man(she was now directing it to me) you have to kiss him from head to toe," she reached around and started patting her own rear, "even every part of this gets kissed, you know what I mean?".
The Mouse spoke up, "you mean kiss the asshole". This made him giggle.
At this point the Mouse and the Ape were what seemed to be swording it out with their little nubs in a moment of gay rage underneath the bars edge. At the same time they seemed to be flirting with Old Crusty.
My attention thankfully was taken by my off duty security guard and 2 friends coming in for drinks. Two bud lights and a Shiner boch. Then Margaret Louise enters. I was thinking in my head, as she headed to the empty stool next to Old Crusty, oooo she's in for a treat.
More customers came in so between orders I would slide back over to where the Mouse, Margaret and Old Crusty were exchanging stories, the Ape was dancing around the middle of the bar alone. At some point the Mouse squeezed in to the other side of Margaret so she was in the middle of the two, a hard sandwich to swallow. Then as they were getting more excited about whatever sordid detail they were on would take turns hovering over the bar in front of Margaret. She was just laughing at the ridiculous invasion of her space. I wasn't there for the conversation but at one point I picked up Old Crusty saying, "... you got to do it everywhere, thee kitchen table, thee bedroom, and even sometimes you go out to thee car and(she put her arms bent by where her waistline would be and started thrusting her hips slightly forward) ugh ugh... you know". She looked at me, "you are very beautiful, what is your name?".
I told her my name, she then decided to tell me she loved me and that she wanted to open her own bar, just a wine and beer joint with possible appetizers. Her and Margaret started a conversation, the Mouse was dancing, as I went to serve 2 bud lights 1 shiner boch. I headed back over to my friend in need, then asked Old Crusty, "what's your name?"
"It is Amy.". She replied, this was a familiar name to me.
At one point Margaret excused herself to the bathroom and when she returned she sat at the other end of the bar near my off duty security and friends. They were filled in on the female trouble at the end of the bar.. they decide to further the fun with Old Crusty. My security walked over and within two minutes was pissed and came back over to our end. She had started scolding him for being mexican and not speaking spanish. This for whatever reason set off Tony, my securtiys Latin American friend. Tony and OC get into it. It's now 2am and I'm kicking out strangers, and somehow Tony ends up leaving with OC.
"What's that about?" I asked.
"We convinced him to take her home," his friends start laughing.
"You know he's getting murdered tonight." I say in all sincerity, that ol' bag didn't seem so stable.
No more than 15 minutes passed when there is a banging at the back door. It was Tony and him and OC got no further than two blocks away when she tried strangling him. I laughed. We all laughed. We spent the next 30 minutes or so filling each other in on the different things she had said to all of us. It seemed through all the stories she was apparently a prostitute whom liked women not men, maybe that's why she tried killing Tony.
On saturday I was at the other bar I work at when two of my customers who frequent my shifts at both bars came in. They were laughing and excited to tell me some story. It turns out on Thursday they had come to my bar and been acosted by an old crusty mexican prostite, who said she wanted to open her own hair salon. I couldn't have been happier and can't wait to hear more reports.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Getting to the bottom of it all.
Ok I was going to post this today anyway because it's been on my mind. Today I was asked about the man who has been all over the news, from here in LA, caught in the muddy flooding WITH HIS PANTS DOWN. The thing is is he wasn't alone in the depantsing. There have been three different situations involving three different men all of them being depanted by this wicked storm. My question is, what exactly is mother nature up to? She's swallowing this town whole by using force of water but then, as if to rub salt in our wounds, is ripping the britches right off of us for all the world to see. As if everyone doesn't already have enough to laugh about when it involves this here city, they now have mutiple images of all of us floating bottoms up. And how exactly is this happening. What, did the whole damn town just give up and decide, 'well hell it's raining I guess we'll all just wear our drawstring pants(undrawn) out today'? I'm taking no chances, I have duct taped my pants to my waistline and made a makeshift harness that goes between my legs and over my shoulder, as to keep my pants in place. You won't see me floating around in that muck toosh to the heavens, hell no!
Well I guess I'll hop in my canoe and paddle home now. Bon Voyage.
Well I guess I'll hop in my canoe and paddle home now. Bon Voyage.
Monday, January 10, 2005
The tape, she used the tape!!!
I was sitting in the small wading pond, that was recently installed by either God or my landlord over the last week.. or maybe it was merely from the non-stop bible worthy rain(this IS a religious story), this morning while chain smoking and drinking coffee when I was startled by a very odd sound. It was the sound of someone or thing scampering past me in the kitchen toward my library/den/office/guest bedroom/media room/closet/sewing room/dry storge/garage/back half of my living room.
"What was that?". Lou asked as he casually stole a hit off my cigarette that was perched on it's ashtray.
"I have no idea buddy," I said as I got up to further inspect the situation, "finish that I'm gonna' look around a bit".
Lou pulled the ashtray closer to him as I went after the mysterious sound. I stepped into the next room and I noticed that my orphan's bed was empty in the guest room. Hmmm maybe it was Orphan #7 and I just didn't see her fly by.
This was possible being that this particular orphan showed up on my doorstep after an unsettleing 8 year stay on hippie island. For three months now I had been training my brain and eyes to not see her as she ran from room to room, because more often than not she thought clothing was optional. I had tried many times to explain to her, inside does not equal birthday suit but it was taking the hippie time to adjust.
"Orphan #7, is that you?" I called out.
Just like in some bad horror film I heard giggling, then the scamper again, and then I felt her pass through me. I clutched my sweater that was tied around my neck, "she passed though me, I can smell her on my cloths," I said totally grossed out to Lou who was now eating a sandwich next to me.
I started tearing through the house following the laughter and thudding of her wicked footsteps.
"Damn you filthy hippie!" I cursed into the air just as I was making on my fifth lap around the house.
I stopped in the bathroom and bent over with my hands above my knees to catch my breath when I noticed them. There on the bathroom floor laying next to each other looking up at me and, seemingly, smirking were the tapes. Not just one but both of them. I grabbed the Scotch Magic tape threw it up over my back and shouted "Dirty". Then with my other hand, that was still resting above my right knee, I reached down and grabbed the Scotch Invisible tape throwing it in the air forcing my body upright and shouted, "Hippie". She used the tape! I started screaming and spitting and rolling all over my house. That stinking hippie pulled one over on me. She used all the magic and invisible tape and is now walking all around my house, surely, clothing optional getting her hippie stink pore juice everywhere. Lou was so repulsed he ran to the toilet and yaked and hurled like a bolemic after a trip to Old Country Buffet.
I ran out front of my house grabbed the hose, turned it on full blast, and tore back into my house like Turk 182. I sprayed the couch, the walls, the beds, the books, the fabric sheets, Lou, and Orphan # 7. Slowly before my eyes an Orphan #7 stood before me, piece by piece as the tape melted away, in her birthday suit. She was scratching the sides of her thighs manically saying over and over again, "A penny saved is a penny earned..."..
And indeed it was. I went straight to the bank and deposited one United States Of America penny.
"What was that?". Lou asked as he casually stole a hit off my cigarette that was perched on it's ashtray.
"I have no idea buddy," I said as I got up to further inspect the situation, "finish that I'm gonna' look around a bit".
Lou pulled the ashtray closer to him as I went after the mysterious sound. I stepped into the next room and I noticed that my orphan's bed was empty in the guest room. Hmmm maybe it was Orphan #7 and I just didn't see her fly by.
This was possible being that this particular orphan showed up on my doorstep after an unsettleing 8 year stay on hippie island. For three months now I had been training my brain and eyes to not see her as she ran from room to room, because more often than not she thought clothing was optional. I had tried many times to explain to her, inside does not equal birthday suit but it was taking the hippie time to adjust.
"Orphan #7, is that you?" I called out.
Just like in some bad horror film I heard giggling, then the scamper again, and then I felt her pass through me. I clutched my sweater that was tied around my neck, "she passed though me, I can smell her on my cloths," I said totally grossed out to Lou who was now eating a sandwich next to me.
I started tearing through the house following the laughter and thudding of her wicked footsteps.
"Damn you filthy hippie!" I cursed into the air just as I was making on my fifth lap around the house.
I stopped in the bathroom and bent over with my hands above my knees to catch my breath when I noticed them. There on the bathroom floor laying next to each other looking up at me and, seemingly, smirking were the tapes. Not just one but both of them. I grabbed the Scotch Magic tape threw it up over my back and shouted "Dirty". Then with my other hand, that was still resting above my right knee, I reached down and grabbed the Scotch Invisible tape throwing it in the air forcing my body upright and shouted, "Hippie". She used the tape! I started screaming and spitting and rolling all over my house. That stinking hippie pulled one over on me. She used all the magic and invisible tape and is now walking all around my house, surely, clothing optional getting her hippie stink pore juice everywhere. Lou was so repulsed he ran to the toilet and yaked and hurled like a bolemic after a trip to Old Country Buffet.
I ran out front of my house grabbed the hose, turned it on full blast, and tore back into my house like Turk 182. I sprayed the couch, the walls, the beds, the books, the fabric sheets, Lou, and Orphan # 7. Slowly before my eyes an Orphan #7 stood before me, piece by piece as the tape melted away, in her birthday suit. She was scratching the sides of her thighs manically saying over and over again, "A penny saved is a penny earned..."..
And indeed it was. I went straight to the bank and deposited one United States Of America penny.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
My Golden Slumber
There I was standing on this neon sign lit corner in New York. It was late but there were still cars and people everywhere. I heard this sound rushing toward me. The sound vaguely sounded like a fire engine, but one with a New York accent. It was nearing just as a beat up sedan came screeching up to a halted stop in front of me. Two cops came flying out of the car piercing my ears with the shrill of their slide whisltes. I covered my ears and lowered my head and closed my eyes. Through my hands, covering my ears, I could hear the muffled sounds of choas and yelling. I opened my eyes to see the two cops trying to put Woody Allen, and some other guy, in their red pajama's in the back of the car. I yelled out, "why isn't he laughing he's supposed to be laughing, cause' it's crummy!". Alas, he was not laughing in fact Woody Allen was crying. He looked up at me and reached out his closed hand and said, "get this to..", as he was saying this I had already reached out my hand. Before he could tell me who to get it to he had already done it. He had dropped three or four dancing cockroaches in my hand. I screamed and and began to shake about like I was being electricuted, with my eyes shut again. Suddenly, I heard waves, and laughter. I stopped moving and opened my eyes to see a bunch of my customers from the bar laughing and drinking and playing beach volleyball on this breathtaking beach. I had my back to the ocean and was face to face with Fancypants, this is a boy who often frequents my bar to attempt to court me but I can't stop laughing at his fancy pants long enough to do anything about it.
I started to relax and giggle and was trying to explain to Fancypants that I thought I was with Woody Allen and that's why I was acting so weird. He just turned to carp me to everyone else. Then, I hadthis overwhelming urge to turn and look at the ocean. OH SHIT A TSUNAMI, and damn it's a big one. "RUN!" I scream but they all think I'm a weirdo now cause' I thought I was talking with Woody Allen when indeed I was talking to Fancypants. "Screw them", I mumbled to myself and took off running back toward the city. By running I mean my feet were movin' like molasses and my knees were so close to the ground that I kept having to push myself up off the pavement. I rounded a corner with a huge salmon colored cement parking structure on it. At this point there are three dogs running with me. Real dogs. There was a tall building attached to it and I pushed open the door and ran straight to the elevator. I wasn't the only one with idea at this point there were four of us in there. One of which I was aparently in love with however I have neer seen him before in my life. I thought this was strange but we kept on going.
Henry Mancini was softly playing in the elevator as we all casually stood around biting our nails, talking about the bar on the roof of the building, exchanging funny little looks, and shiftingour weight from one leg to the other. The doors opened it was mayhem. Women and men plunging to their deaths down the open center of the building. I looked over the edge just in time to see the tsunami coming. It's filthy brown water engulfed the base of the building, yet the whole time the sky above was the most beautiful blue with big white cumulus clouds just sitting around. The city looked like a big dirty lake from my stance at the top of the building.
Oh no I left Lou outside.
I started bawling, "Lou is dead, oh Lou... Lou" then I grabbed a passing lady by her collar, "maybe he climbed the tree, he's so smart he just has to be safe".
I was turning to head back to the elevator when someone yanked me to the ground by the back of my collar.
"You're late!" the man was screaming in my face all drunk with magarita salt all over his chin.
He must've been my boss cause' he tossed me behind a bar and yelled again, "I want a martini dirty with two olives and so does everyone else!!". I turned my head to see everyone else. The bar starting stretching longer and longer before my eyes, it was a mile long and silver. There were atleast eight people deep down the whole goddamn thing. I started mixing like I have never mixed before. Bottles were flying and I suddenly had 6 sets of arms at the same time shaking martini's. It just didn't seem right so I looked down to survey where these new arms had sprouted from and it turned out it was just my fellow bartenders standing behind me sticking their arms under my arms so the boss thought I had more arms and I wouldn't lose my job.
I was done, everyone now had their martini's. I knew the boss would think I was some sort of miracle bartender now.
"What the hell, I wanted olives!" boss yelling.
"I know martini's for everyone, dirty two olives sir!" I said with an obvious attitude cause' there was nooo way I screwed up.
He held out his martini and what do you know there's no olives. Nope insted there was sauerkraut.
I'm running again through my molasses, I'm near my house, where's Lou. All the houses around mine have been wiped out by the tsunami. He just had to make though I knew it.
"Lou, pal.. come out, where are you... LOU", just then out of the corner of my eye I saw Lou limp out from under some debris.
He was seemingly fine except the wet fur and the one leg that was now four times the length and width of the other three. I scooped him up and fell indianstyle to the ground.
"Oh Lou we'll get youto the hospital, I love you Lou... I do". I kissed his forehead over and over again.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
While making coffee this morning with Lou I realized something. Sauerkraut in martini's hmmm, yup I'm gonna make a million. Also, I don't think I should eat so many greasy spicy foods before I fall asleep.
I started to relax and giggle and was trying to explain to Fancypants that I thought I was with Woody Allen and that's why I was acting so weird. He just turned to carp me to everyone else. Then, I hadthis overwhelming urge to turn and look at the ocean. OH SHIT A TSUNAMI, and damn it's a big one. "RUN!" I scream but they all think I'm a weirdo now cause' I thought I was talking with Woody Allen when indeed I was talking to Fancypants. "Screw them", I mumbled to myself and took off running back toward the city. By running I mean my feet were movin' like molasses and my knees were so close to the ground that I kept having to push myself up off the pavement. I rounded a corner with a huge salmon colored cement parking structure on it. At this point there are three dogs running with me. Real dogs. There was a tall building attached to it and I pushed open the door and ran straight to the elevator. I wasn't the only one with idea at this point there were four of us in there. One of which I was aparently in love with however I have neer seen him before in my life. I thought this was strange but we kept on going.
Henry Mancini was softly playing in the elevator as we all casually stood around biting our nails, talking about the bar on the roof of the building, exchanging funny little looks, and shiftingour weight from one leg to the other. The doors opened it was mayhem. Women and men plunging to their deaths down the open center of the building. I looked over the edge just in time to see the tsunami coming. It's filthy brown water engulfed the base of the building, yet the whole time the sky above was the most beautiful blue with big white cumulus clouds just sitting around. The city looked like a big dirty lake from my stance at the top of the building.
Oh no I left Lou outside.
I started bawling, "Lou is dead, oh Lou... Lou" then I grabbed a passing lady by her collar, "maybe he climbed the tree, he's so smart he just has to be safe".
I was turning to head back to the elevator when someone yanked me to the ground by the back of my collar.
"You're late!" the man was screaming in my face all drunk with magarita salt all over his chin.
He must've been my boss cause' he tossed me behind a bar and yelled again, "I want a martini dirty with two olives and so does everyone else!!". I turned my head to see everyone else. The bar starting stretching longer and longer before my eyes, it was a mile long and silver. There were atleast eight people deep down the whole goddamn thing. I started mixing like I have never mixed before. Bottles were flying and I suddenly had 6 sets of arms at the same time shaking martini's. It just didn't seem right so I looked down to survey where these new arms had sprouted from and it turned out it was just my fellow bartenders standing behind me sticking their arms under my arms so the boss thought I had more arms and I wouldn't lose my job.
I was done, everyone now had their martini's. I knew the boss would think I was some sort of miracle bartender now.
"What the hell, I wanted olives!" boss yelling.
"I know martini's for everyone, dirty two olives sir!" I said with an obvious attitude cause' there was nooo way I screwed up.
He held out his martini and what do you know there's no olives. Nope insted there was sauerkraut.
I'm running again through my molasses, I'm near my house, where's Lou. All the houses around mine have been wiped out by the tsunami. He just had to make though I knew it.
"Lou, pal.. come out, where are you... LOU", just then out of the corner of my eye I saw Lou limp out from under some debris.
He was seemingly fine except the wet fur and the one leg that was now four times the length and width of the other three. I scooped him up and fell indianstyle to the ground.
"Oh Lou we'll get youto the hospital, I love you Lou... I do". I kissed his forehead over and over again.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
While making coffee this morning with Lou I realized something. Sauerkraut in martini's hmmm, yup I'm gonna make a million. Also, I don't think I should eat so many greasy spicy foods before I fall asleep.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
RUBBISH
After recent hooey I witnessed in blogland I decided to attempt to hone my own slang.
This one goes out to a mysterious 7.
Wuzzup taxi noodle to tell ya da' truff....
Tryin' ta git ahole on yer ass wiff dawgs rollin like tarzan PG-dippin honey mustard all ova' dis 14 ounza.
Where ya' cupfart at biaaatchhhhh!
Hate cow buffin' the great pumpkin but until you put it in pork fried rice I won't dump my new dusty log on ya'.
Keep it coming true,
The Pink Cigar
Ok... I believe I got that out of my system. As of tomorrow I will resume to my normal Winky self.
This one goes out to a mysterious 7.
Wuzzup taxi noodle to tell ya da' truff....
Tryin' ta git ahole on yer ass wiff dawgs rollin like tarzan PG-dippin honey mustard all ova' dis 14 ounza.
Where ya' cupfart at biaaatchhhhh!
Hate cow buffin' the great pumpkin but until you put it in pork fried rice I won't dump my new dusty log on ya'.
Keep it coming true,
The Pink Cigar
Ok... I believe I got that out of my system. As of tomorrow I will resume to my normal Winky self.
Monday, January 03, 2005
My Darling Mexican Telephone.
This morning when I awoke to a telephone call I realized I need to take a class to learn how to speak Spanish fluently. Let me back track...
Two in a half years ago my friend and I made the decision to pack up a 15 foot hauler and move from Chicago to LA. Lou, the cat, sat on the dashboard smoking his Camel Lights telling us we were making a great decision. Ania and I were skeptical. Four days later we arrived. We unpacked the truck as soon as we landed and headed to the bar, for a well deserved ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, or twenty. It wasn't our intent but it happened. The first bar we came across was exploding with music and laughter. It was this thumping dance music so we thought this should be entertaining a Monday night and a raging dance club. Nope, we rounded the small entry way to see 2 customers sitting in the flourescent lit smoke filled bar with a bartender, male, with his feather boa and cowboy boots dancing up a storm.
"Hey girrrrrls", the bartender said as he did this twirl into a ta-da stance arms out.
We stayed for a round or two laughing with this man and his two man 'Too Wong Foo' following. He then told us of another bar next door that was supposed to be great. We said thanks and decided to check it out. We were greeted by the Boston native bartender who refused to let us pay for any of the ungodly amounts of fermented beverages we consumed. At the end of the night we looked, crosseyed, at the kind man behind the bar said something that resembled goodbye, layed down a gracious tip(3beans, a dirty kleenex, and a wood chip that looked like Abe Lincoln), stepped outside where we took turns pushing each other home in the shopping cart.
The next morning when I awoke in the bathtub, I realized our travel phone didn't take to the overnight bathing so well. Lou tried to fix it but he was pretty preoccupied with making breakfast. So I walked over to Ania in the sleeping bag on the kichen floor and woke her up and told her it was time to get supplies. On our way to the bar the previous night we had noticed a .98cent store.
THE LIST
1. Toilet Paper
2. Soap
3. Disposible Camera
4. Styrofoam cooler
5. Beer
6. Bread
7. Cheese Slices
8. Bananas
9. Ice
10. Telephone
We had turned on all the utilities before we arrived. So after a long day of playing on the mechanical unicorn out front of the store we finally headed in to purchase the supplies. They had everthing except the beer, so we checked out payed(2 beans, 1 Clue Candlestick, 3 out of five, winner takes all, games of rock scissors paper... we won). Stopped by the King got the beer and headed home. We put the house together 1 cooler in the kitchen by the stove, supplies inside. One disposable camera on the mantle. One bundle of bananas on the breakfast nook. One telephone plugged into the wall. We sat and waited for our first phone call.
Six months later the phone rings. We had long forgotten about the phone, and it's obvious lack for making sound, and couldn't remember where we had last seen it. Lou answered it and said he couldn't make out who it was. I took the call anyhow, and this is what I heard...
"Domingo, Domingo, Domingo...machaca, por favor, ademas verdes tipicos" or smething similar.
All the while I also heard a more familiar sound, the faint sound of a friends voice.
"What the hell is that sound, hello... hello Wink, are you there?"
I was there but so was the mexican radio station.
So this morning when the phone rang and I heard the all too familiar sounds and I realized I'm not living up to my potential. I could be bridging the gap between two worlds by merely answering my telephone... if only I spoke spanish fluently. I will rectify the situation and apologize to any of my callers I have let down.
Yo soy uno coneja con un sombrero muy bonito.
There the first step has been taken.
Two in a half years ago my friend and I made the decision to pack up a 15 foot hauler and move from Chicago to LA. Lou, the cat, sat on the dashboard smoking his Camel Lights telling us we were making a great decision. Ania and I were skeptical. Four days later we arrived. We unpacked the truck as soon as we landed and headed to the bar, for a well deserved ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, or twenty. It wasn't our intent but it happened. The first bar we came across was exploding with music and laughter. It was this thumping dance music so we thought this should be entertaining a Monday night and a raging dance club. Nope, we rounded the small entry way to see 2 customers sitting in the flourescent lit smoke filled bar with a bartender, male, with his feather boa and cowboy boots dancing up a storm.
"Hey girrrrrls", the bartender said as he did this twirl into a ta-da stance arms out.
We stayed for a round or two laughing with this man and his two man 'Too Wong Foo' following. He then told us of another bar next door that was supposed to be great. We said thanks and decided to check it out. We were greeted by the Boston native bartender who refused to let us pay for any of the ungodly amounts of fermented beverages we consumed. At the end of the night we looked, crosseyed, at the kind man behind the bar said something that resembled goodbye, layed down a gracious tip(3beans, a dirty kleenex, and a wood chip that looked like Abe Lincoln), stepped outside where we took turns pushing each other home in the shopping cart.
The next morning when I awoke in the bathtub, I realized our travel phone didn't take to the overnight bathing so well. Lou tried to fix it but he was pretty preoccupied with making breakfast. So I walked over to Ania in the sleeping bag on the kichen floor and woke her up and told her it was time to get supplies. On our way to the bar the previous night we had noticed a .98cent store.
THE LIST
1. Toilet Paper
2. Soap
3. Disposible Camera
4. Styrofoam cooler
5. Beer
6. Bread
7. Cheese Slices
8. Bananas
9. Ice
10. Telephone
We had turned on all the utilities before we arrived. So after a long day of playing on the mechanical unicorn out front of the store we finally headed in to purchase the supplies. They had everthing except the beer, so we checked out payed(2 beans, 1 Clue Candlestick, 3 out of five, winner takes all, games of rock scissors paper... we won). Stopped by the King got the beer and headed home. We put the house together 1 cooler in the kitchen by the stove, supplies inside. One disposable camera on the mantle. One bundle of bananas on the breakfast nook. One telephone plugged into the wall. We sat and waited for our first phone call.
Six months later the phone rings. We had long forgotten about the phone, and it's obvious lack for making sound, and couldn't remember where we had last seen it. Lou answered it and said he couldn't make out who it was. I took the call anyhow, and this is what I heard...
"Domingo, Domingo, Domingo...machaca, por favor, ademas verdes tipicos" or smething similar.
All the while I also heard a more familiar sound, the faint sound of a friends voice.
"What the hell is that sound, hello... hello Wink, are you there?"
I was there but so was the mexican radio station.
So this morning when the phone rang and I heard the all too familiar sounds and I realized I'm not living up to my potential. I could be bridging the gap between two worlds by merely answering my telephone... if only I spoke spanish fluently. I will rectify the situation and apologize to any of my callers I have let down.
Yo soy uno coneja con un sombrero muy bonito.
There the first step has been taken.
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