Toblerone Tuesday

Today was Toblerone Tuesday.

Explanation: For a couple of months the deli in the building i work in has been stocking mini Toblerone candies at the register.  This meant nothing to me at first.  Everyone knows wheat the Toblerone candies are, but no one realizes it.

Mostly you see this shit at airports in big triangle  boxes.

Anyway, this kid that I was training brought some on a Tuesday and said  (in all seriousness) “Toblerone Tuesday bro.”  And it changed my life.  Since  then I’ve had at least one Toblerone treat every Tuesday.  And! I am in the process of locating their head of marketing and sales, because that person needs to know that this is Toblerone, and it’s “Not just for airports anymore”.

Not bad right?

So, I was drunk this whole post.

Lunch with Pops.

Today I’m going to have lunch with my old man and his partner JL (read: gay couple, that is relegated to referring to themselves as if they do business together).  My Pops is has this celiac thing.  That means he is allergic to any thing that has gluten in it.  WHAT THE FUCK!   No bread, pizza, or pasta. This a nightmare for anyone, let alone a 100% Italian guy who grew up in a bakery.  As if this isn’t difficult enough to plan for (finding a restaurant that takes this seriously is very hard) his colleague JL is a vegetarian.  They are impossible to cook for (F.U. I can cook some stuff).  I think they just have lettuce in their fridge, maybe some salt for spice.

Anyway, Pops and JL are just about the kindest most genuine couple you have ever meet.  Hanging out with them is kinda like watching one of those Bob Ross painting shows: very pleasant, kinda boring, but you keep watching. This is hard for me to handle cause I pride myself on my “lowbrowedness” (it’s a word now baby!), and loud obnoxsious nature.

I still can’t figure out where I came from.

So, we’re going to a gluten free restaurant in the Village where I will taunt my dad the entire time with stories of pizza and rigatoni.  In turn he will not let me go hang out with my friends unless he can come.  When I was in high school he would let me use his car.  Every time he would get into the car with me and my Friends and say “Where we goin’ gang!” with a big shitty smile on his face.  This made me want to die, but my friends (all high as a kite) loved it.  I’m still friends with all of those kids so I guess it didn’t hurt my “rep” as bad as I thought it did.

After some wholesome family time I will go drink my face off till I wake on a park bench somewhere on the island of Manhattan at 6am.

What can I say I like to make him proud.

This post requires work on your part.

Today I was stuck under ground on a Bronx bound 2 train after another rough day.  While I was waiting for the train to move again I was trying to think of a creative representation of what my brain was going through.  For some twisted reason a scene from this movie I saw like 40 million years ago popped in my head.

The Movie is called The Brood, and if you’ve even heard about it, let alone seen it *pounds*.

It’s some twisted shit.  The real kind of twisted: 70s twisted.  Back then everything wasn’t all sarcastic and snarky.  I don’t even think snarky was a word in the 70s.  It makes for a more honest/scary experience.

So, I’m a weirdo for doing this,  and this is not for the faint of heart and NOT SAFE FOR WORK, but watch from 2min 50 sec to 5min 20 sec on this link. It is the most horrifying 2 1/2 min of film ever made.

That’s how I felt stuck on the 2 train after work today.

P.S. – Pumpkin Seeds…

Is FML a cliche?

First off, fuck the accent that’s supposed to go on the ‘e’ in chiche, and fuck you for noticing (if you did not notice *pounds*).  I couldn’t figure out how to type the all important accent.

Anyway, this whole FML this is being over used right?  WHO CARES.  It fits.

Like right now I’m typing this post with one eyeball.  That is because on my walk to the train from work some piece of dirt (aka the Mini Demon Sole of Freddy Kruger) popped into my eye.  So, what did genius JP do???  Rub that eye with a fury.  BRILLIANT!  Now my eye is the color of a tomato, and it is burning like my love for Colt45.

Today was like the FML Prefect Storm.

I woke up at 7:55am.  I need to be at work at the latest 8am.  I called my boss to tell him I was gonna be late.

ME: I’m gonna be late.

BOSS: Is everything ok?

ME: Yes, I overslept because I suck at life.

BOSS: Um, ok. *click*

–*side note* I’m not sure if I’m using the whole *star thingy to describe how/what I’m doing* works, but it’s hella fun and I’ma rock it.

Ok, so then my day resulted in: my worth being questioned, 3k in canceled sales, and the Freddy Kruger thing.

FML!

It just feels good to say that for some reason.

My eye hurts.

I am going to yell at Pat Swayze.

Last weekend I did things like: drink heavily, act obnoxious, eat pot brownies, fall asleep on park benches.  Standard weekend fare.

This weekend was a special one.  I got to make one of my less frequently made bad decisions.  Jumping out of a plane.  This is the stupidest thing any sane human being can do.  I am usually a tense ball of anxiety (but more than usual) the entire day leading up, and this is 100% because PEOPLE SHOULD NOT BE JUMPING OUT OF PLANES!

I’ve been going with a couple of my buddies once a year for three years.  On my first jump one of the girls that was at the airfield asked an instructor; This is completely safe right?

Instructor: NO!  Eating lunch in the park is completely safe.

There is something inherently wrong with this entire process.  One should never be fooled: You are flying up 13,500 ft or so in the air (flying is a miracle), and jumping out.  All there is to save you is a nylon sheet and some strings.  Last time when my instructor pulled the chute he said “Look!  I saved our lives!”.

And he was right.  We were just plummeting toward earth at 120mph.  Terminal Velocity bro.  It’s like my man Pat Swayze says “100% Pure Adrenalin!“.  It is better than any drug (not YOU booze, I love you the mostest, just let me finish writing shit that no one will read, and then we can make out).  The rush is really amazing and, believe it or not it can be a very calming experience.  Up in the sky there is no sound, no cars, trains.  No one is asking me any questions, no phone calls.  And, if I die I don’t gotta go to work the next day.  Who the fuck is ever mad at a day off.

Now if you will excuse me I see someone who needs to be yelled at.

Xanation

Ok let’s all get on the same page here: drugs are great.

Even if all you do is drink you know what I mean.  If you don’t drink or do any drugs then I don’t know how you’re alive, so kudos.

Anyway I’ve noticed lately that the media, and pop culture in general has latched on to Xanax.  It’s a part of everyday conversation.  Think about it… I’ll bet you heard someone somewhere say something about Xanax today.  And if not here it is!

I know at least 6 people off the top of my head with a prescription.  Myself included.  And ya know how I got my prescription…

-Doctors Office-

Me:  Um, yeah so I’ve been pretty stressed lately.

Doc:  Ok I’ll give you some Xanax.  Now turn your head and cough.

That’s it folks.  Now I have 20 .5mg pills with 2 refills.  What?  Really?  I’m stoked.  Now when my job drives me up a wall: pop a Xanax.  Girl probs: Xanax.  Money prob: Xanax.  Can’t decided who was cooler TMNT or ThunderCats: Xanax.

I told my Old Man I had a prescription.  This is a man who tried to check me into rehab the second time he caught me getting high because he saw a “pattern”.

He asked what color they were.

My mom didn’t blink either.  All her friends, and friends kids are on the shit.

Ok, so what does this all mean?

I don’t fuckin’ know, but you should go to any doctors office and get some cause they’re good.

Just don’t pull Heath Ledger.

Explanation

Ok, so it’s not that I don’t like books or stories.  I just don’t like the act of reading.  

You see I am a slow man.  

I was slow as a child as well.  My parents got me tested, like for IQ, and learning disabilities and stuff.  And as it turned out they told my parents that I was a retarded  ”Learning Disabled” student.  Reading comprehension being my weakest area. 

Great!

So when I read I read slow.  Most of the time I read the same sentence/paragraph twice.  It feels like home work.

I like books on tape.. er, I mean Mp3.  Whatever I got a bunch of em on my Iphone, I can just listen.  It’s nice.  Some of my friends say I’m really not reading the book, and they’re right.  But fuck it.  Ahab sinks to his death I get it.

But guess what else… I can’t spell to save my life either.  And this is my public apology to all my readers (all the throngs and hoards of loyal readers!).  My bad, cause spell check is great n all but shit like- which and witch or passed and past -yeah, that shit spell check don’t pick up on.  No grammar neither.

So for those of you who have read:  Thanks for not putting my dumb ass on blast.

New topic:

I have no Internet at work god dammit!  

Shit man, if I could do this at work I think I’d Jizz in My Pants!  I mean what better way to kill 2 hours… um yeah I have trouble writing shit too.  It sucks that I’m relegated to reading your blogs on my Iphone at lunch, smoke breaks, and in-between twittering when my boss is not around (that sounded hot).

Ohh yeah, and I’m also sorry for not commenting.  I’m really kind of a novice with this blog thing, but I’m guessing that’s gotta be rude.  Figures cause I’m rude and flaky in the rest of my life so why would it change here. 

And for good measure.

Good Talk.  See ya out there.

Headbutt Fail

It was a normal St.Patty’s for me.  I went directly to a bar after work and began to drink.  When I Meet up with Chris, he was with his boys Kyle and Dave.  So now we were four dudes.  Let’s go!

At one point this girl comes out of nowhere, grabbed my ass, then hid behind Chris.  Weird, but it’s a holiday so whatever.  But then she creeps up again.  This time she got right up in my grill…

DrunkGirl:  I think I’m in love with you…

Me:  So let’s get married then.

Yeah yeah yeah, I know.  Cheeeseey.

I thought she didn’t like it either cause she just bounced right after I said it.  But again she creeps up…

DrunkGirl:  I love you,but I have a BF.

Me: Well fuck…

I was gonna continue with “that sucks”, but I was promptly Kiss Raped.  I mean full on sloppy drunk face plant!  So now we win the Classy Award for making out in the middle of the bar.  A bunch of times.  It was kinda awesome.  Anyway, all of the sudden out of nowhere some drunk asshole (yes I do fit that description as well) yanks this girl away…

Drunkass: [not quite slurring] We’re leaving!

Now, I don’t know if this is the BF, or just some Johnny Cockblock.  So, I figured not to disrespect…

Me: I’m sorry buddy, but we were just talking and making out a little.

DrunkAss: [yelling] I said we’re leaving!

Me:  [laughing] Ok bro, let me just ask the young lady for her number. [@DrunkGirl]  What was you number… Um, and name?

DrunkGirl:  Giggles:)

DrunkAss:  I will END YOU Bro!

Me: [hysterical]  What does that mean like end my life or.. are you coming on to me?!

HEADBUTT!!!

Yup, dude headbutted me.  But not the good kind where my nose shoots blood, my eyes water up, and before I know it I’ve been pummeled to the ground.  Nope.  This was a headbutt like when your cat gingerly nudges you in the face on a Saturday morning cause it’s bored, and drunk.  The dude.  Not the cat.

So anyway, it was weak.  And with my glasses not even being smudged.  I lunged.  What I didn’t notice is that the whole bar was watching, and by then we were both held back, and they were kicked out.  I tried to follow (for the girls number), but was persuaded by Dave and his girl (Chris and Kyle had left) to stick around.  We took shots and laughed.

WTF is it about St. Patty’s day, and Holloween that makes girls wanna make out so bad?

Metallica

I wrote this on the bus and train

I take a bus to the East 180 train station to catch the 2-train every morning.

Today I was running late (thanks Glenlivet), so I forgot that my monthly pass expired yesterday. This is usually no problem. The bus driver will just let me through cause it’s 6:30am, and who the fuck wants to enforce rules this early. But today it was some other assbag who wouldn’t let me on.

Me: Come on man, I don’t got any change.
Assbag: [flatly] Not my problem.
Me: Fuck You Assbag.

I went down the block and tried to break a $10, but bodega guy told me I had to buy somthing. I grabbed a pack of gum.

I took my change, hopped on the next bus 10min later, and the card machine on that bus was busted!

***Fee Rides, happy St. Patty!***

I wanted to be ironicly mad, but how can you be mad starting the day with Happy St. Patty!

So, now I will spend the rest of the day looking forward to many Whisky Rocks tonight! (what kind of whisky?… all of em!)

Metal Post

On Tuesday night I went to see Senses Fail.  Previously I had called them and Emo band.  I was wrong. These guys were as hardcore as they come.  They stuck with the heavy stuff (staying away from some of their whiny boy my daddy was mean songs), and even pulled off a pretty kick ass version of Metallica’s Battery.  Awesome!  (no where near as awesome as Metallica)

So we all know metal shows have mosh pits.  It ends up being the closest thing any man can come to a Fight Club (love that fucking movie!).  You jump into the pit, and throw yourself or someone else on the ground.  Sounds brilliant!

Anyway, It’s been an easy 10 years since I’ve been in one. I really wasn’t sure what to expect, so I figured I would just hang back and check out the action.  You know, see if I still had it in me…

Fatal mistake.  You see you don’t chose the pit, it chooses you.  Lucky for me when I was unknowingly tossed in I had already safely stashed the Prada glasses (yup, I just name dropped Prada), but my dumb ass still had on my Big Boy Business Man Hugo Boss watch (still name dropping).

So I was shoved (by some teenager) and I very gracefully fell flat on my back.  When I hit the ground my watch popped off and in slow motion leaped into the air.  

Me: Noooooooooo!  My Big Boy Business Man Hugo Boss Waaaatch!  (yes I did say the whole thing)

I spotted it land next to some kid in a red hoodie, I sprung to me feet ready to reclaim my treasure, and FUCKING BAM!!  Elbow to the eye son!  I think this guy was like 20 feet tall, 500lbs of muscle, like 2 Arnolds circa ‘83… or some high school kid who the fuck knows, I was down!  

But, as mosh etiqutte dictates this dude picked me right back up, asked me if i was cool.

Me:  Fuck yeah Bro!

And he threw me back.  The rest of the night I got to know the floor more than I had planned.  It was kinda awesome.

During the one whiny boy choruses they did play I snuck outta the pit, spotted red hoodie…

Red Hoodie:  Hey I think you lost your Big Boy Business Man Hugo Boss Waaaatch!  (just let it happen).

A great night!

Senses Fail song: Rum Is For Drinking Not Burning

My Eye:

Arnold Circa ‘83:

more Metallica if your still here