Some things I don't get

So, the Hoff was in force on Thursday night at home hanging with Chris and Doug. I think that the Hoff comes out in full force more if wine is involved. Can't help it, it just tastes so good and is pretty good for you. Anyways, besides the point.

About 1am and we have the munchies, but we obviously can't drive anywhere. Doug is crashed out in the extra bedroom because he has to get up early. So Chris and I take a walk up the street to Wal-Mart for noshing supplies.

We get there on a mission for some ice cream and taquitos. There's a combo.

While we are there I pick up a handful of vitamin waters and a gallon of milk.

We are meandering through the produce section when, in my drunken shopping vision, I see a girl in front of the veggies. What caught my eye was the fact that I could see the BONES IN HER ARMS!! Her skin was starting to hang off them, as well as the rest of her 80 lb body.

Totally grossed out now, I look at her cart...she had 5 heads of lettuce in it and 3 other veggies.

That's it.

Now, albeit, I am not the leading authority in high health, but what the hell is wrong with some of you bitches out there!!! I applaud my friends and strangers that have preset goals and wish to try and make lifestyle changes for the better, but some people take things to an obsessive extreme that not only is actually repulsive but unsafe.

Yeah, I know when I look in the mirror, I see a little bit of chub, but most of the time, I'm looking at my attempt at macho flexing. You know what, I know I can lose a little more weight, but I am not one of those people who in reality is 80 lbs and sees themselves as 300lbs.

That's why I own a shirt that says I'm winning in the battle against anorexia.

I know I will never be small. I could lose all the fat and still be big. In fact, the way my frame is set up, if I got all nothing but muscle, I'd look awkward.

Point being, people shouldn't be obsessed with looking how the media,Hollywood and magazines tell you what looks pretty. Do something until it makes you happy, and fuck the rest.

Been working out and been being responsible all week...go ahead and have a slice of cake...and eat it too fuckers!

That's my rant...I'm a foodie...and I will always will be, life just tastes too good to give it up.

"Excuse me, could you shove your boot up my ass?"

Wooonderful flippity pancake flippin day today I must say. A wonderful transition from a superb frekkin night last night.

-I picked the wrong day to stop sniffing glue!-Airplane 1982

Work, for once, was balls to the wall busy last night. It hasn't been that busy in a very long time, which was good, because I know that I needed the cash. I didn't mind so much the crowd, I can handle busy. It's the associated drama that comes with busy that stresses me out. As a litmus test to last nights levels, my paper was turning bright red.
1) When it's busy and there's one bartender-there's a learned skill out there called patience, which most people commonly lack. Hey, believe me, I would really like a jack and coke served pronto to me as well, but tonight it just aint gonna happen on demand.
2) However, hot bitches and people that have been tipping me extremely well have immunity to the above number 1.
3)We run a game show on Wednesdays. A very nasty, dirty, insulting and debaucherous one. So much so that we issue warnings to our customers who may be too sensitive. Say sensitive enough wherein the husband of one of our contestants who showed off her white trash titties, which literally popped out of her top and bounced off the floor and spawned the " you could mop our floor with your tits" comment from one of our hosts-starts chucking glasses at the bar, and myself, resulting in a 8 person brawl which the end result was me not being able to get good sleep from a throbbing pain in my right arm from crashing through the front door jam to get said "unable to take a joke" husband out. Not to mention I damaged my favorite pair of cargo shorts to the point of no return in process.
The good part of the night?
I did make good money, which I needed for the second boot up my ass. I leave work and drive home to try and take a 4 hour nap and get up early to bring my truck into the shop to be serviced for the long road trip to cali in a week. Did I get good sleep? Hell no! My right side was throbbing so bad that it woke me up once. I was still so pumped up from a bad night that I couldn't relax to fall asleep. I think I dozed for 2 hours.
I get up and head over to Brakes Plus a few miles away. I have a shop next to my house, but after the last time and ESPECIALLY today (as you will see later) I won't go to Advanced Auto service again. I check in and request a 100,000 mile service, a A/C system check, and fuel filter change. Granted, I have never brought the truck in for a major service since purchasing it in 2002, so I shouldn't have been surprised at the results. They called and said I needed a power steering and transmission flush, a new serpentine belt, new shocks and struts(still the original 1999 ones), replace the rear brake pads, fuel filter, oil change and filters,resurface brake drums and a new kitchen sink. I okayed everything except the shocks n struts. All of it would have been over $900. Well, last night I went though the paperwork in the glove box and the last time I was at Advanced Auto service, in addition to the oil change, I ordered the FREGGIN POWER STEERING FLUSH! What? did you conveniently forget to do it? You remembered to charge me for it, I know that.
After knowing that know, I called back Brakes Plus and asked for them to put all the replaced parts in a box for me so that I can see that the work was actually done. They are, after all, mine. I think I can handle tossing them in the trash myself. Maybe I'll make a fucking sculpture out of them in the shape of a hand giving the finger and give it as a gift to the other auto shop entitled "Boot ass fucker #1"
*I just cracked myself up on that one by the way*

So, I get to drop $700 on the truck today. They also lack a shuttle service, so I got to ride my bike back and forth to the place in 105 degree heat...which really wasn't too bad, I'm nit picking now. That said...
Hasselhoff out!

Great party guys!

FYI to all of you out there, as of tomorrow, my week of stress will commence for my mom's 70th bday party on the 29th. Tomorrow will start with bringing in the truck for a tune up and oil change to get it road ready for the lovely 800 mile jaunt to SF in a week on Saturday morning after working Friday night with no sleep and no day off in a week. This week will be a wonderful mish-mash of shopping, packing, prepping, cooking and assorted other necessary to-do's, personal, professional and family related that will hopefully culminate in packing the truck up with a close to a fully self catered party, luggage and a dog to throw an awesome party on the 29th and the start of a well deserved vacation of work free family time in my hometown.
So, yes, chances are outside of work, you won't hear hell or high water out of me for about three weeks until all is said and done and I return home.
I'll still be around if you need me for something, I'm just doing my own thang....
I'm pullin da plug and I'm out!!!
-Marc

I'll order the carne asada with a side of Hasselhoff and a strip club togo please

Oh my oh my. You know whenever Hasselhoff is involved that it's gonna be a interesting story. Seeing that its 8pm on Monday and I'm still currently de-toxing from Sunday night.

Never fails, when I intend to go "Hasselhoffing" aka, getting tanked, I never do. It's when I don't plan on getting trashed that I always do. Last night was a perfect example.

Sundays are usually a lax day. My day off consists of cleaning house, laundry, copious amounts of Internet porn and chilling out in the evening. Yesterday was the first day of starting to prep items for my Mom's planned party in 2 weeks, so the only goal I had to meet was to make a huge batch of my salsa, let it sit and age for one day and then freeze it for the 29th. Done.

As I finished, Chris cruised over to hang for a bit. Soon after, more people got involved. My friends Kristen and Bret show up with Bret's friend Charlotte. One bottle of vino while making slow cooker carne asada and grilling veggies turned into 2 bottles of vino. At the end of the second bottle, the food done, we...or should I say I, got everyone up and dragged them all to Salty Senoritas up the road. Chris had to open, so he bailed.

We meet up with Brian, the bartender there, and he gets me into full Hasselhoff mode. It would have helped to maybe eat something before drinking, but at this point in time, the Hoff doesn't give a damn.

I jack a bottle of Cholula hot sauce (one of my favorite condiment stealing establishments) and somehow-because at this point in time my memory has gotten fuzzy- we touched on the subject of a titty club. I'm convinced that we are to go. We pay the tab and bail. Then we weren't gonna go. Then we were...whatever. We all head back down the road and start to walk home(which should have been a better game plan, but this is the Hoff here now..) because Bret has a early morning job to go to. Kristen and I say fuck it and split off to go across the street to Fox and Hound for a last cocktail. We played some video golf and stepped outside to wait for a cab.

I was about to get up and call the night right as the cab pulled up. Now I'm committed.

We get in and our cabbie's name is John. We chat all the way down to central Chandler to Sonny's cabaret. We make friends with the doormen and after a few minutes we head in to see 4 people in there. Then there's the Hoff. Blue speedo short jogging shorts with a bottle of Cholula in them, a tight lifeguard red tank top and a corona visor. I scream Hasselhoff.

Grab a drink and a seat and watch the 3 girl rotation. Apparently Sundays are a slow night for the titty club.

I blow 16 bucks on throwing it to the girls. I would have spent less, but I'm Hasselhoff beeatch! It's how I roll!

Last call and the ugly lights go on. We head out and wait 20 minutes for John to drive back and give us a ride home. Apparently we were pretty cool on the ride there or I tipped him fat because on the ride back, he never started the meter and just asked for a flat $20. A $7 discount from the first ride.

We get home just as Crystal arrives back from work. Kristen crashes in the extra bedroom and I crumple to the floor in the main bedroom. After some coaxing from Crystal to get into bed, I drag my drunk ass into bed and the last thing I remember before passing out to dreamland was reciting Caddyshack lines into my pillow...."overcast day here at Augusta, the young phenom....Cinderella story...i think he's going with a 9 iron here....Cinderella sto........."

Hoff out.

And I never got to eat my carne asada til 4pm today....

Don't Hassel the Hoff!

Amid constant jabs at the red tank top wearing, lifeguard report to tower 22 immediately Mr Hasselhoff, I went out for a little last night.

Admittedly, I felt whooped. I got 3 hours of crappy sleep on Monday night, worked Tuesday day and then went to do my swim workout afterwards( which surprisingly turned out to be an awesome feeling day in the pool). I got home, unwound for an hour and then felt the urge to head out and grab a cocktail. A little tight now days, I ended up going to work to drink for dirt cheap.

On arrival I met up with Chuey and Josh and April-Josh's girlfriend. We hung for a few, watched the idiots race goldfish and then decided to head over to Mickey's for round 2. It's been a while since I had been in Mickey's and a lot has changed-mainly the furniture. After another round we headed back to work. My other server Kristen showed up, and we decided to head over to Dos Gringos. That place was a ghost town. Kristen got a memo from Buddy that one of our regulars needed to pay her tab, and that we'd find Michelle at Acme.

Got into Acme and it was balls to the wall packed. No cocktails here, we were on a search and recovery mission.

We find a tipsy Michelle and an even more gone Jessica (Shawn's girl) and escort them back to work. I lost track of Kristen after that, and closed out my tab.

Michelle and Jessica were looking for a ride home, and I was done for the night, so i offered to transport.

Michelle was bitchin about having to ride in the back seat and Jessica was drunkenly rambling about some shit, both of which I was eager to get over with. Michelle got home ok, and getting directions to Shawn's house out of a drunken girl was like getting your teeth pulled without novocaine. We finally got there and Hasselhoff was free to head home, but not before making a late night Jack in the Box run for a jumbo jack and a shake.

Unconditional Love

Something that is near impossible to find nowdays. I was at home solo tonight after a fun filled day of cleaning the house form top to bottom...literally-thank you Mr Clean Magic erasers...and after cuddling on the bed with Jenny while I was penciling out the supply list for my Mom's Bday party and supply roster, I got up, finished laundry and grabbed close to all the fish in my freezer to grill up at 2 am.

Popped open a bottle of vino, threw some spices on the fish, grilled up some sweet potatoes and pineapple to munch on with the wine and then started to grill up a combo of salmon, yellow tail tuna and mahi mahi steaks.

I got my Ipod soothin with some classical in my ears, the glass of vino is tasty and I'm mellow.

Jen comes through the screen door and just patiently sits there while I flip my fish over. She knows that dogs don't eat fish.

I flip my stuff, and back off the grill, grab my cigar and vino and just stand there chillin. She comes up and nuzzles my leg. I give her good lovin. We both just stood/sat there for a good amount of time just loving eachother's company.

My buddy Chris was right, animals and children both give unconditional love to you. I hope that I have given Jenny the same in return...besides the peanut butter.

;-P

Can you smell it??

Lets see...get the checklist going...
1) Sundays off- so far, check...
2) Arizona and new Colts jersey- check
3) A super bowl ring for the team I cheer for plus bragging rights-a check in your face!
4) Game one this weekend? -DAMMIT!
It's soooo close now that I can taste it! The drafts are finished, new gear purchased, training camps being attended, and players healthy. All I am waiting for now is week one.
I can't hardly stand it. I've been jonesin since February and now I still have to wait another month and a half!
The only downsides to the start of the season?
Um, in most parts of the country, September is nice outside. Nice enough that sweatpants in the morning feel wonderful to compliment your bloody mary on opening kickoff. Well, not here. I won't be enjoying sweatpants until November. I'll be sitting inside with my jersey and shorts in a air conditioned house because its still 100 degrees outside. Lame. But, it will still be monsoon season for part of the season, so the chances of football in a huge ass storm is really cool.
Second downside...No more freggin gatherings at my house. How many times had I said last year that my house was open to all for Sunday football with drinks and good food and hardly anyone showed the hell up?
Screw that guys. I aint wasting more of my time,money and stress on most of you flakes. I'll just head up to the bar or stay at home and party it up solo style.
Stand fast guys, its almost here! In the meantime, I'll be passing time rooting against Barry Bonds in getting the home run record and watching the history channel.

What it used to be

Ah the 4th of July. A time to relax, party and celebrate America's Bday. Well, at least for the rest of you. I'll be working tonite, getting your asses plowed at my bar. Anyways, I wanted to share what the 4th used to be for me.

Back in the day when I was a wee lad in the Bay Area, we used to have a blast doing the 4th. Back when the family was still together, not feuding and all us kids were well, still kids. I used to get up early on the morning of the fourth, like 6 am, turn on the tube and watch the NY or Washington DC parade and have my bowl of cheerios. Then Mom and Dad would get up and we'd head downtown for our city's 4th parade with some of the rest of the family at like 10:30am. Streets were all closed, businesses and my favorite...school was out for the summer. People were out having a blast, sporting the red, white and blue back in the Reagan days. After the parade, we'd head home to relax for a bit. Dad would work in the yard, I'd go play with my friends, hail down the ice cream truck or ride my bike down to the park and ride through the sprinklers.

I'd get back in around 3pm as my mom finished up prepping sides to bring to the family BBQ.

We'd all head down to my Grandparents house and the family would all socialize and BBQ. The men would hang outside together, having beers, smoking, and getting involved in loud conversations spoken in Portuguese. The women were all inside or under the patio prepping dinner, or talking to eachother. Myself and the plethora of cousins would all go play tag, explore my grandpa's garden, play football in the street or just run around being kids.

We'd all sit down for a 30 person family dinner around 5 and stuff ourselves silly. Mom usually brought desserts and we'd scarf those down as well.

Like clockwork though, after we've all eaten, us kids would hear the chime of the ice cream man from miles away, and like a choreographed children's riot, we'd team up on all our parents and get a dollar to get ice cream.

Sticky and covered in residual Eskimo pies and bomb pop juice, it was showtime. Back when I and most of you too, were kids-explosives were legal to buy. Each of us had our folks buy fireworks and we'd all gather in front of the house and spend a good hour of ohhs and ahhhs in giddy pyro excitement.

That was nothing though, for where my grandpa's house was, we were less than a mile from the bayshore launch area. We'd wait in our old wood and fabric strap lawn chairs for that one single pop flare that signified the start of the big show. BOOM!

It was on for a good 45 minutes. By the end of the grand final, all of us had neck strain.

By the end of the show, all the kids had come down from their sugar highs and were whipped.

The adults were beer'd out and we all headed home.

At the end of the night, my folks and I would stay up just a little longer to see the replays of the big city shows on the late show before I went and passed out in bed with a ear to ear grin on my face....