side cash

Every time I go out and walk Jenny around the neighborhood, I never know what I will find. Sometimes its pennies or other coins, keys, balls (heh, I said balls), or even a bike. That got me thinking and researching. I haven't found any info on the net as of yet, but I would be interested to know what the estimated amount of cash that lies on and is found on US streets on a daily or annual basis. Daily I'd figure it would be around the hundreds of dollars, yearly, who knows.

All I know is that I don't think you'd find this kind of phenomenon in most other countries in the world, and it may be a crying shame to the actual value of coins that people my disregard to in our US of A.

It all adds up peeps, and it all spends the same. That's why I pick up even pennies, face down and all.

you must be this smart to ride this ride

I love Wal-Mart, or Wally-world, Uncle Wally's as I frequently call it.

I go there to get a mess of stuff that, if purchased anywhere else, would cost sooooo much more. Per example, my brand of dog food in a 50 lb bag at a pet store would cost about $30. Uncle Wally's price, just under $20. Awesome.

So I head off to WallyWorld tonight before work to get some home essentials-bleach, soap, trash bags, TP and other needed what nots.

My gripe is this-

What is the minimum education level needed for a WalMart new hire??

I would be so far OVERqualified for the job there that its seriously disturbing. No matter what time of day or night it is, I have always guaranteed myself a 25 minute wait in line just to be checked out by one of WalMart's gifted employees. When I say "gifted" I mean, how hard is it to scan an item, bag the item, accept payment to said item, say goodbye and then repeat the process.

It's a needed evil though. Where else can I get a bag of top soil, a board game, new socks and a bottle of jack at 1 am for dirt cheap???

Sundayfunday

Finally, a day off wherein I don't have to do any chores or errands or any other laborious tasks. So, after Saturday night's brain dulling and gene pool questioning debacle, it was a welcome day.

Slept in til a convenient 1130, got up and made breakfast.

There was a old historic military vehicle show being held in Phoenix at the National Guard base, so I decided to check it out. It was free anyways and it cost you $5 bucks if you wanted to park on site. The donation went to the military fund that they represented anyways, so I didn't mind.

Crystal wanted to go with, so we humped it over there and took a quick tour of all the vehicles.

Most were restored fairly well, and spanned from WWII to the present day. There were some that, well, I failed to see why they were there. I guess the present Bronco trucks spray painted in camo qualified somehow as a historical truck. Maybe in AJ, but not here.

It was pretty neat seeing a vast array of different types of vehicles there, including some foreign ones from Switzerland and Germany.

Now here's my gripe..

I love WWII. The history, the stories, the knowledge we achieved during the time, but it never fails...I don't know how many of you have been to a show like this, or to a gun show, or even sometimes at an outdoor expo, but people that are obsessed with that NAZI shit are always there! Hey, I'm not a believer in that way of life, but I can appreciate the history of WWII Germany and how their actions affected the course of the war. If you wish to come to an event like this and display memorabilia for display and historical reference, sweet! I'm for it! Certain stuff disturbs me however.

There was a display of a WWII German Kubelwagon from the Africa campaign on display there. It was really nicely restored to almost mint condition. I was impressed. I wanted to get a closer look and a few pics so I got closer to it and saw in the interior that the owner had draped a NAZI flag across the back under a restored German rifle and had other Hitler items placed around it.

I was like, um, OK...I'm pretty sure that this is a German jeep now...duh...

Just then, the owner struts up and he's in a full German desert uniform, reaches in the vehicle's passenger side and turns on a personal stereo to play German propaganda and music.

I had to walk away, it was just too obsessive with the whole NAZI thing. Too bad, it was a nice truck.

There was a few of those guys there, strutting around all proud in their uniforms. Um...newsflash...you lost the war, and your leader was fucking insane, and dead by the way.

We stayed there for about an hour browsing and then left. Hit up the grocery store and had some dinner at the house. I should have ate more, I got a little tipsy...

You guys are idiots

I swear, I get my share of fools on a nightly basis at the bar. Last night though, took the cake. I showed up at work at 8pm, and being the late guy in, it's usually the easier shift seeing that you don't have to work the dead zone from 6-8. I get behind the bar and immediately realize that it is white trash night. Thankfully we didn't have Natural Light on tap, or they would have been there all night. There wasn't too many to start, but pretty soon the bus from Apache Junction showed up and dropped off the rest of the superior race...won..der..ful...

It wasn't your normal W.T. (white trash), but like single wide and missing 2 wheels, Kevin Federline trash quality...Most had their teeth, but then again, I wasn't looking. And the hottie factor??? Forget about it...CUMULTIVELY...all the girls in there added up to a total of 5.

There was a monster truck rally in Phoenix last night, so that did explain a lot (as well as the groups of gay cowboys...not that cowboys are gay, cowboys are cool, but these guys were definitely gay...like they were Scottsdale boys with trust funds that decided as a group to go out as cowboys after hitting up the local Saba's clothing store to get boots and a hat.)

Anyways, thankfully they left on the greyhound bus they showed up on...only the bus dropped off all the STOOOOPID people. Jeeeesus!!!

In my 10 years of bartending, I've seen some dumb individuals, and in their defense, that was at a bar on a college campus behind a frat house with mostly 22 yr olds, so at least they had an excuse...these were 25-30 yr old idiots. Damn! 2 plus 2 equals...DEEERRRRRRR!!!!!

Asking stupid questions, trying to close out a tab thru 3 different bartenders after you've already closed out your tab (I should have charged him twice!! With idiot tax.), screwing up drink orders, asking the bartender if the drinks are strong before you even take a sip, asking for specials on a weekend, closing out tabs with your waitress through a bartender,ordering 15...FIFTEEN!!!DRINKS and not leaving a fucking dollar!!!

Dammit peeps!!! Know what you want, order it, pay for it, leave a dollar and go away!

Transaction complete! Thank you drive thru!!

It's that easy...especially when I'm buried 4 deep with people that want to order. Don't ask why I'm not smiling or what I think about the football games, who's winning the Suns game. Granted, you drop me a twenty or let your tits out to play in my face and I WILL stop for you for a minute and give you the lip service you want.

GGGGRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!

Another day in the life

I'm going to go off again on the "luxurious" life of a bartender. Not about the lack of tipping or mannerly respect that we fail to receive on a daily basis, but on something a little more unsaid. For most of you typical 9-5'ers,you get a standard weekend off. We'd kill to have two days off back to back, especially a Saturday and Sunday. Our weekends are vastly different. Example, my days off are Sundays and Thursdays. I can't go anywhere because I work the following days, and my days off are usually spend catching up doing chores or personal errands, so technically, it isn't a day off. That isn't my gripe on this post though. It's something that the general masses don't take into consideration about our schedules. When all the rest of you general population are enjoying days such as Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, 4th or July, Cinco de Mayo and St. Patrick's day...we're working. Usually those are our most hectic days. Bartenders don't get holidays and special events off you ungrateful little bastards. So next week when you are all twisted on beer and chips and dip watching Indy winning the Super Bowl, keep in mind that we are working our asses off.

By the lucky chance that we do get that day off, you can bet that we don't feel like being in that environment to celebrate it.

We work on our birthdays.

We celebrate Valentine's Day with our loved ones the days before or after.

We had one minute of shaking hands with co-workers behind the bar on New Year's Eve before we went back to washing dishes and pouring drinks.

We watched fireworks during a smoke break on the 4th of July.

We didn't get a Guinness on St. Patrick's day, we only poured them.

We eat hamburgers on Thanksgiving.

So it would be wise of you to be a little more knowledgeable of our professions as we tend to your needs on these fun filled days. Cheers to ya! Go Colts on Sunday...I'll be at work.

The Assmaster

Upon a recent trip to Prescott, my bud Doug and I, in a distinctly non-discreet way, touched upon the topic of ass gas. To be more specific, we busted ass the entire trip.

Only in the presence of other males can this truly be appreciated I must say. Women,I just don't get it with you. You never bust ass!! Why? Because its socially unacceptable? Unlady-like? Fowl? That's why we enjoy doing it fools!! Do you know the power that you wield? With you withholding that noxious gas all day, it has time to brew, build, and upon exiting, could have the potential for world domination..yet you refrain from competition. Your loss.

Anyways, yes, ass gas. So, I'm in the hotel room with Doug, chilling after a long drive, a handful of beers and lunch and I rip one. I haven't been too smelly lately, so I thought nothing of it. Today was different for some reason. I've only made myself gag a few times, and well, this was one of those times. Before it hit me, poor Doug got a full lung full. He collapses face first into his pillow. I'm stoked! This game is called "I win!!" and I won! At what price however??

I see paint start to peel off the wall in front of me and brace for the impact. I don't want it, for I am afraid, yet I wish to savor the fruits (rotten ones) of my labors, and bask in its self-destructing glory. Like a hot summer breeze from a city dump, it smacks me in the face like a 200 pound sweaty hooker demanding payment for her services. I cough as my mouth starts to water. I reach for a pillow and cover up, but this is government weapons grade ass gas and normal protection does not give sufficient cover. It penetrates the pathetic pillow, and in fact embeds itself in it for future carryover damage hours later. In fact, it covered the entire room.

I struggle up and jam open the window and let the cool crisp air in. Apparently I forgot how weather systems work, for the hot heavier ass gas in the room countered the cooler lighter air outside and just made the contaminated room atmosphere slowly flow by me and create a pocket of ass gas right outside the window like a dirty bomb spreading outwards into society.

I kick on the ceiling fan in hopes to circulate the cloud out the window. It barely works.

We decide to evac.

We grab out lightly ass covered jackets and race out the door, leaving the window open while we are gone. Worried about or valuables? Hey, if the bastard wishes to brave a fallout zone for some counter change, a electric shaver and some minuscule personal property, he's welcome to it, as well as the Darwin award given with it. I'd rather return at 4am to a 10 degree room than a 60 degree room with ass residue covering everything.

I know you guys are reading this and are either laughing your envious asses off or are completely disgusted and offended by it. Something tells me that girls would make up the majority of the latter.Either way, I don't care, my ass is a registered lethal weapon, so don't piss it off. Only a fellow guy would appreciate the intricacies off ass warfare and still laugh at fart and poop jokes. That's why we are so simple to understand.

I am the assmaster.

Well, as far as humans go...dogs are still the kings of the animal kingdoms. They don't clear out just rooms, but houses...

The Chonnie Bandit part 3

I thought I was safe in my own house. The Chonnie Bandit has only struck on the perimeter of my house, but now, they've managed to find a security breach and infiltrated the sanctity of my inner sanctums. For those confused by what I mean by the Chonnie Bandit, go back in my recent archives and follow the story from the beginning.

Meantime...they have struck again, for the third time. We got back from the Led Zeppelin tribute concert Saturday night and I was greeted by a lovely interrogating question of " Do you know you have a paid of women's underwear under your sink?" from Crystal. My gut sinks and the adrenaline starts flowing for no apparent reason. I answer with a astonished "WHAT???!!" Sure enough, I go into the extra bathroom, and under the sink, conveniently hidden behind the last roll of TP, was a pair of wadded up thong women's panties. You got to be shitting me. They've infiltrated my house!!!

Immediately Crystal shoots me that look and I am immediately put on the defensive, avoid thermonuclear protect the balls warfare. As if I know who's the hell they belong to! The only thing I can think of was that I stocked the sink with TP over a month ago for the holiday party and I know that they weren't there then. So, that said, and thinking rationally, some poor party guest either crapped their pants or had aunt flo visit them during the party (because they were quite crustified and a solid mass), and they left their size "large" chonnies "out of sight, out of mind" tucked away under the sink.

Ahem...

how ghetto is that???!! I know that there were plastic grocery bags under there! Put em in that and in the trash can. Hell, just put em in the trash bagless...Save ME the disgust and embarrassment of finding said special treasures scattered around my house. Makes me wonder if there are any other presents hiding for me somewhere. Well, since 90% of my guests read this blog, chances are you know who you are. If ya want your chonnies back, ya gotta go to the Mesa landfill and fish for em. At least we all got a really good laugh and some practical detective guessing work out of it, so in the end, its entertaining. Slightly disturbing, but entertaining.

That bathroom is slowly becoming a Mecca for nasty debauchery...finding dirty chonnies, guests puking in it, guests having a nasty, wall destructing 3 way in it...jeez, what next??

On a related disgusting sidenote-

Jenny had a bit too much spoiled fun yesterday and has had a wonderful case of the doggie doodie shits all day. "LOOK dad! I'm peeing out my butt!" Including a nice steaming puddle of liquid poop in the closet this afternoon. Well, I needed to steam clean that carpet anyways...House smells of eggish doggy ass now...tasty!

Drunken cultural debauchery part 2

Well, after a night of working and a day of recovery, Saturday i had gotten Crystal tickets to the Phoenix Symphony does Led Zeppelin for Christmas, so we got ready and head out to Phoenix for the show. It was awesome! We headed back to the house around 11pm and Chris popped over to chat for a little. I was busy prepping food for the Crystal's birthday/football bonanza party the next day.

We head to bed, and then get up at noon Sunday for football, boozin and birthday cake. It was freggin cold man! Forecast high of 47 in the day with a 30% chance of snow at night. that just isn't right. We munch, BBQ, chat all day, watch football (dammit, Saints lost, but Woo Hoo! Go Colts!!) and having a great birthday time. Unfortunately no strippers showed up this year. The girls all spend the night sitting around knitting shit (yes, it sounds gay), but they made some cool hats in the process. We ended up watching Beerfest and Scary Movie 3 before crashing out after a long day.

Drunken cultural debauchery part 1

First off, let me say that it's a tit bit nipply out here today. How cold was it? We got snow, yes, you heard me right, snow, in Phoenix. Inconceivably. It got down to about 31 last night at the house here. Hell, it was 47 at 2pm! Anyways, enough about cold weather.

I've been MIA for a few days being the drunken social butterfly lately, so the blog needs an update.

I was sitting at home last Weds. afternoon before work trying to come up with a day trip for Doug and I to take on a whim. We decided, and booked a room in Prescott. Went to work, then we left Thursday morning around 10. No problems going up, it was sunny and nice. We get into town and immediately it was destined for us to be there. We drive through downtown and there is a big old "Welcome El Salvador" banner draped across the street. Well, Doug is Latino, and more so, El Salvadorian, so he's sporting major wood and decided that it is his mission to find out the reason for the banner.

We get to the hotel, check in and drop our stuff off in the room before we head out for the first half of our liver destruction.

Now pay attention here: we walk out of the hotel and onto the sidewalk, where we notice, probably from recent rain, that there is a 1 1/2 ft wide band of ice on the street next to the curb. I immediately place a side bet. "First person to fall on their ass today owes the other five bucks!" We agree, and move on to our first victim, the Prescott Brewing company. We plunk down at the bar and are greeted by Heidi, our bartender and very enthusiastic new friend (see the blog about bartenders just flirting for cash). We order a pair of beers and are immediately in a good mood because 1) its quite possibly the most tastiest small batch beer I've ever had- like a veritable symphony orgasming in my mouth and 2) we showed up on Thirsty Thursday, where all the beers are a mere $2.25-super bonus!!!

We find out, as my immediate thoughts were, that the El Salvadorian contingent of someone-who was sent here to act important when they really are not- to represent a newly adopted sister city program is here. Cool.

Well, a quick stop for one beer turned into a persuaded 3 beers (hey, come on, they had 7 flavors available!) We left finally and walked down a sunny 47 degree road to The Office for lunch. A 22 oz Guinness and jager later and I was ready for lunch. I chose the chipotle pulled pork sandwich with garlic fries. Tasty I tell ya. We were well on our way to drunkoland so we decided to head back to the room for a disco-nap.

We crashed out for 2 nicely buzzed hours before getting ready for the night. Sober now (dammit!), we head off to the casino for a round of gambling. I get a good break early and win $125 on a Wheel of Fortune slot. I lose $60 after that and give back $20 to Doug from a loan, so I'm up $45. Not bad. We head back into town and hit our last chance for food at Gurley St Grill. It was alright, but nothing to write home about. We head back and drop off Doug's leftovers and head back out to Whiskey row. First stop was the Jersey Lilly for a Scotch and a cigar. Might as well get the sophisticated stuff overwith sober before I try to make an ass of myself later.

We split out and head south to Coyote Joe's. Quite possibly the best bar on the row. We spent most of our night there, listening to live music, hanging around the firepits in the back, playing pool and drunken Golden Tee. We hooked up our bartenders fat and they did in return (it was 2 for 1 night).

I had to correct my bitch there when he tried to order a Irish coffee. I walked back into the bar and told the tender that my faggot boyfriend wanted a coffee drink, but I didn't think that you would serve coffee, so make the sissy a double strength crown and coke. Silly fag.

Bonus: they have bierbitzch on tap there-awesome!

We finally stumbled out of there and made a run to Brian's Irish pub on the opposite end of the row. Not a good sign when there was 6 people in there (including us). Meant to be though. I found Shameus!! Shameus was the bartender there, in his mid to late twenties, an immigrant from Cork, Ireland, been here for 9 years. He got his citizenship after serving in the marines for 8 years. Righteously so. I liked him already, needless to say, I think I had a drunken man-crush on him. We continued to get faced there, me doing Guinness and Jameson shots. Doug found a friend to talk to and started dishing out advice in a not so clinical setting, and a drunken mindset. That's cool, that left me solo at the bar with the one man band, Shameus and the jukebox for a bit.

Time was obviously flying, cuz we made it to last call. Time to go. We said our farewells to our Shameus and darted across the street to our hotel, where I proceeded to fall square on my ass and lose five bucks.

We stayed up until about 4:30 talking about memories, politics, girls we could have or did have sex with, morality and ethics between a bartender and a clinical behaviorist. Both extremely drunk mind you. I think we ended up on a draw. We passed out and then Marty McMorningpants woke my (still drunk) ass up to get the "free" breakfast at 8 am that the hotel cafe provided. Lame. I just wanted sleep. We crashed out after for 2 more hours and I was somewhat functional for the drive home and for work at 6pm, but not before it started snowing on us up there in the afternoon. A little part of me wished that we got snowbound and couldn't leave, but then the dehydration and pounding headache clued me in that home would feel pretty good about now...

Hey everyone! I'm moving!

Yes, you heard me right! I'm moving to an undisclosed non-extradition country in the spring of 2009 if this woman becomes president.

Today Mrs. Clinton launched her bid for presidency of this wonderful country. I remember all too well how her bumbling husband screwed us over for 8 years, letting our troops rot in Somalia, launching massive gun restrictions, screwing foreign relations and was too busy getting his twig n berries sucked off by some fat hag in the oval office.

So yes, I will be taking all my cash and guns and moving out of this place. I hear Thailand is nice, maybe Portugal or Holland.

I would have been a better shot

The case against officer Ramos took a new turn recently. Officer Ramos, is a border patrol agent near El Paso TX, who, in 2005, shot a (and here is the key part) verified drug dealer in the ass as he was caught coming illegally across he border and tried to run away.

Ramos was found guilty and sentenced to 10 years in prison.

That's just wrong. But it gets better...the drug dealer (remember..the bad guy!!!) slapped on a 5 million dollar lawsuit claiming that his "civil rights" were violated.

I'm sorry???

What 3 words being " Drug Dealer" and "illegal" do you not understand. This country is going to shit when the justice system takes the criminal's side and wrongfully punishes the law enforcer.

It makes me sick, seriously. Fucker should feel lucky that he only got shot in the ass. I would have been a better shot. Dead men tell no tales, especially dead illegal drug dealers. I must go vomit now.

Daytrip

Hey y'all. I'll be out of town tomorrow (Thurs) with Doug on a whim daytrip up to Prescott for a quick getaway. Boozin and gamblin at the casino in 6 degree weather?? Are you insane?? Naw, that's what Jack n cokes are for!!!!

I'll be back in town Friday afternoon to be in work at 6pm. I may be in haggard spirits, so forgive me! Just give me some Gatorade & a Hershey bar and I'll be fine.

Later fockers!

Marcus

get the hell out of here!!!

Heebie, Geezie, praise Jeezy! I'm booked and looking forward to getting the funk out of here! At the end of Feb I got plans made in stone to evacuate my as from this forsaken desert to a place with sand AND water. I requested Feb 24- Mar 4 off and since I got drawn for javelina with Chris and some relatives of his, we are camping and hunting down Tucson way for 3 days and then on Tuesday the 27th, Chris, Crystal and I will be airborne for freggin Ah-loha-ay! Sorry, but the whole Hawaii every two year deal just couldn't be held up til next year when I got a smoking deal if I go a month from now. Adding in my airmiles to the equation, I was able to book a 5 night stay with airfare for 3 people for just over a thousand. I'd be stupid to pass that up.
So yay for us!
I'll go ahead and toss out the group invite to y'all if by some way you can swing it, just be ready to drop over a grand for air and a hotel if you want to join us for a 5 day nonstop rockstar party on the beach. If anything, maybe you can come camping with us for a few days before we go bye bye.
Later you land-locked mo'fo's!

My day off retiring Old Glory

Sunday was definitely a little better day off than last Thursday. Slept in to a well deserved 1pm, watched heartbreaking losses of Seattle and San Diego on the last full day of Sunday football in a frigid 45 degree day. Made dinner for Chris and Crystal around 8, a healthy and light orange chicken stir-fry with coconut ginger rice. That way it will cancel out the bottle of wine and vodka I drank after. It was freggin cold last night. I mean cold. It got down to 19 degrees here in the morning hours. Unheard of in AZ for a long time. Last time they said it was this cold was 1993. Hopefully it will be that long again before it comes back.

Well, after renting Jackass 2 and Accepted (seen Jackass 2 like 14 times in 2 weeks-more for my guests...Accepted was amusing at best, thankfully I had a jack and coke in me), Andrea came by and joined the party. I blazed up the firepit in the yard to get some warmth going, and to hopefully get rid of the leftover wood pile that I had accumulated for Dec.'s party. We get a good bed of coals going and tossed on some logs that kept up a solid flame.

For some reason, we think of the strangest things when staring into the primordial fire. I could go off on the whole "man make fire!" theory, but lets just say in short we have a pyro-gene in all of us. So I'm staring at the fire thinking, fire reduces all to it's original states. It creates and destroys. I followed this train of thought into some twisted tangent on cremation and remembered that I had something in the garage that I was holding onto for proper disposal.

Flashback-

Back when I lived in Tempe for 5 years, that entire time, I had a US flag mounted outside of the front door. That stalwart trooper bared a lot of hardships- freezing air, 120 degree heat, pelting rain and hail, winds ripping the tattered ends to threads. So, when I moved to Gilbert, I got a new flag to go along with the new house to replace the weathered, faded and beaten one. I wasn't about to toss it in the garbage, as I know the rules for flag disposal. Instead, I kept it on a wall in the garage and let it sit retired for the past 4 years.

Flashfoward-

I figured that the setting was right to say goodbye to my old friend. Added bonus as a recently ordained Reverend on top of that. I went and got my friend from the garage, folded him in a traditional triangle and escorted him outside. In a private setting, in front of friends that understand and respect what his service meant, we thanked him, blessed him and praised him for his service before committing him to the flames. A salute followed and a final thank you.

I figured that it was the right thing to do to warm our hearts on such a cold night.

I hate smurfs

Man I hate having smurfs. Not Smurfs as you know it, I don't mind them at all. Still, you wouldn't catch me watching the cartoon or anything, but you know Smurfette was a world class pirate hooker pullin a 99 smurf nightly train with Papa Smurf as her pimp. I say a 99 smurf train because Vanity smurf was a total fag and definitely enjoyed smurfing the smurf cock.

No, I say I hate having smurfs as in them lovely little green blobs I have been hacking out into the sink the past couple o days. Didn't matter that I had guacamole two nights ago, it all looks the same. I ended up going home early from work last night because I felt like ass. I got some good sleep and some meds and I think the worst is over with. All that is left now is to evict the smurf village I have living in my throat. Mmmmm! Tasty!

BTW, my favorite Smurf was Alky Smurf. He worked in the Smurf pub during the day and drank himself silly at night after he closed til he passed out underneath a mushroom...right after he pulled number 32 on the Smurfette train.

Close runner up was Special ops-Smurf. He was undercover most of the time, finding out ways to frag or snipe Gargamel. When he wasn't doing that, he stayed in his bunker polishing his rifles and knives, swigging bottles of Jack Daniels and bitching about the liberal hippies whining about stupid minority political drama. Kinda like me.

Prayin for Paradise

What a great way to start out the new year. I'm working my ass off and then the one day off I get yesterday, I get to spend it getting sick. I'm thrilled. I would love to get the hell out of dodge, so much so that I have something big in the works within the next month or two.

On the plus side, I got a bunch of spring training tickets for games spread out in March. We shall see if the work schedule gets jostled around and my days off change. Knowing my luck they will, as I based my ticket purchases on my days off.

I did relax a little bit as best as I could on my day off, although breathing and sleeping was like trying to suck down a extra thick Wendy's frosty through your nose, only without the pleasant taste. I must have slept 23 hours in the last 2 days, culminating with a lovely Nyquil induced coma last night when I slept from 2am to 2 pm. It was wonderful.

Anyways, I got shit to do. I need to start moving around and getting motivated. Maybe take the dog on a stroll, start bulletproofing my kitchen by eliminating treats that definitely are not good for me.

Sickly yours,

Marc

Great, now I'm blind

Ok, work Wednesday night at work sucked donkey balls. Not because it was slow, or that I walked out with barely a hundo in my pocket, or that I started getting a sore throat, or that my impromptu plans to get out of dodge for a day were not going to happen the following day, but the night sucked because of titties.

Titties you say?? How the hell can titties ruin one's night. In a blog that I had posted a long time ago (and one of which I am due to post again), I love titties. Hands down. Big ones, small ones, round ones, flat ones. I love them all. Except a pair that I witnessed last night.

Secondly, let me state that I have nothing against bigger girls. Most of you know that did have a certain affinity for thicker girls, but am not dead set on solely those. I won't pass up a thin or fit one, it's just girls with some substance to them I feel more comfortable with. Can't break em you know.

Anyways, last night, I think I saw something that was just wrong. During our game show, my Mexican midget and my host boss worked on getting this one girl to show off her titties. Without exaggerating, this girl was far heavier than me. Keep in mind that I weigh 238.

Sweet enough girl, but up close, face was pock-marked and greasy. Then the top came off. Dear God, put them away as I avert my virgin eyes!! They flopped out of the straining top, bounced off the very large muffin top (which had strategically placed pimples or sores) and back up and down.

They were cellulite ridden to the point that they looked like they had been partially dented with a pall-pin hammer.Nipples were huge and looked like a partially chewed up Farmer John sausage breakfast pattie. Whats sad was that she wasn't really hesitant or had any shame in her game. So much so that she opted to grace us with letting them out again before the game's end.

Dear Lord, the humanity, I don't sicken easily, but I literally gagged once and will probably have a nightmare tonight. What's even more sickening is that its like a train wreck or a car accident on the side of the road..you can't help but watch it in morbid curiosity.

Sorry for having to share this traumatic experience with you, but I had to let the world know of my suffering.

I can't feel my ass

Anyone that says bartending is a glamour job hasn't worked in the industry in conditions like this. My job has been down two bartenders the past two weeks, one was on va-cay in Germany for 15 days, and the other was hospitalized for over a week. That left a few bodies including myself to cover all the shifts. Doubles and 80 hour work weeks. I've had one day off in two weeks, which was last Thursday. I am scheduled to be off tomorrow, but the way its been going, I may get called in again. I think I'm just going to turn my phone off tomorrow.

We've been getting our asses handed to us especially the past 5 days also, with the BCS championship game held here in the valley. Ohio State and Florida. We set the record for sales in the bar for all time on Sunday night, with skeleton crew on. We ran out of beer-literally, otherwise, we may have sold a lot more. I set a personal record, making over $1100 in 5 days.

It's taking its toll however. I'm so burned out from work right now, I have most of the daytime to do things around the house, but I'm so whooped from work, I sleep til 2 and my day is shot before having to go into work at night. My hands are so chewed up from chemicals, booze, opening twist offs and washing dishes that it feels like I'm wearing leather pruning gloves. I haven't talked to anyone in a few weeks, even my best friends. I haven't returned phone calls from people, including my parents.

When I DO have a day off tomorrow, it won't be a day off relaxing because I need to do chores, shopping, laundry and other things around the house that I have been neglecting for 2 weeks, so it's still like going to work. A week off would do me wonders. I'm sooooo due for a vacation. I don't consider the holidays a vacation. Family is nice, but I mean a get the hell out of Dodge and everyone so I can do nothing but relax vacation.

Time to go though...I gotta get ready for...guess what??? Work!!!

The bartender's myth

I love my job. There is no mistake about it what so ever. I can be social, make decent cash and hang out with friends some of the time, but regardless, it's still a job. If I had the opportunity to pay bills and not work, I would. Maybe bartend as a hobby. I don't dream of going to work daily, in fact, most of our motivation to go to work stems from, "Gee, I need to make (insert amount here) to pay this bill, or pay rent or what not." I am getting asked questions by different people more frequently about my job and most of the time when people ask me how its going, I answer, " It's going...where I don't know, but its going somewhere." An ambivalent answer at best. There are a lot of people that go far in this business, moving up to high end resorts, casinos, and even their own places, but no matter how far up the proverbial food chain you go, you're still one thing- a servant in the service industry. We give people what they want, sometimes tell them what they want to hear, give a listening ear to them (whether we give a damn or not), and sometimes flat out tell people to piss off. Point in case-if its 2 people deep at the bar on a busy night, don't bother trying to have a in depth discussion on European socialism. I'm not European, I don't plan on being European, so who gives a fuck if they are socialists. They could be fascist anarchists for all I care about. Yes, I used the played out Ferris Beuller quote. Now excuse me while I help these 30 other people who want to give me money.

Secondly, a good handful of peeps have asked me lately if can could get a lot of trim to go home with on a regular basis. Look...yeah, yeah, we get it, some of us are pretty cool, but we're not pop icons. If a bartender thinks that and abuses that mentality, its like saying you're the coolest guy on the Lacrosse team who drives around in his parent's Volvo. Obviously one's ego is far too ahead of themselves. Yes, I've seen it happen, bartenders going home with random trim for a one nighter, hell, I've done it once too, back when I was younger and dumber. We aint all whores guys. If we applied ourselves, we could, in theory, get new ass on a nightly basis, but guess what??? Our priorities lie in paying our bills and just maintaining a general friendly coolness to everyone. Big hint too- If we are flirting heavily on people, its because we're trying to woo them into dropping a few more dollars in our wallets. Comes with the job. If we are truly interested, we'll pull you aside and ask for some contact info. Jeez. So, get that thought out of your heads that we are all these wannabe Tom Cruise in Cocktail dick slingers.

We bust our butts, usually in the weeee hours of the morning. Usually I tell people I have a 9 to 5 job. 9 to 5 meaning 9 pm to 5 am. We don't have a stable salary. When times are fat, we are happier. When times are lean, and we spend most of the shift polishing bottles or watching HBO on the bar TV, it truly sucks because we are fiscally planning out in our heads how we are going to get by this week.

Remember these things, and please and thank yous when ordering, and the relationship we have between you and I will be pretty sweet. Now excuse me, but I must go and pay my bills.

2006 in review

Man, this year went by faster than a chocolate cake in front of Anna Nicole Smith. Seems as if last week I was writing 2005's review.

Finances-8.5

2006 is up a point from 7.5. I saved more, managed my cash better and invested more. More so that I can actually say that I have a "portfolio". Dunno if that's something that I can brag about, even in it's fledgling existence, but its significantly something more than last year.

Work-9

No changes from last year. I left the ghosts of the Vine behind me with no traces of my existence of me being there, which is a good thing. I've worked a stable and trusting job this year at Giligin's, and created a greater bond with my bosses at work. It's a good feeling to have, just as long as I keep myself in check with not getting too comfortable in my work and letting myself slip. I perused around attaining my own business and poked around the real estate maket for investment properties, but nothing was good enough to take a venture into something else. Hopefully this year will be more fruitful.

Social Life-8

Up a point from last year. I've gained a few more friends, and a lot of acquaintances. I've partied with a lot of different people. I've lost touch with some people, but still manage to say hello and have no ill wishes. I disassociated myself from one person from a messed-up Internet fiasco, and am better that I don't have them in my life any longer. I still have contact with my two best friends Doug and Ryan, and even though time is an issue sometimes, Doug and I have been hanging out a little more, and we even imported Ryan out here from Japan and had a good old fashioned boys trip to cali for debauchery. I consider all of my co-workers friends now and would do anything with them. I lost a good friend to the Army, as Striker enlisted and got shipped off to basic, but we keep in touch with him.

Love Life-7.5

Up a half a point from last year. I had a girlfriend, then not, then did, then not really, now I do. I know that she is a special person and that I do care about her immensely, but am still partially unclear about where it may go. All I know is that I enjoy her company and the things we do and places we go. Love is something that is never really predictable. You just have to go with it through it's ups and downs. There is something good to be said about being comfortable around someone, just make sure that one does not get too comfortable.

Spiritual-3

Down a point. I haven't given much thought lately of spirituality. Ironically (which i may go to hell for) I became an ordained minister from the Universal Life Church (bless the internet) at the end of December. If I choose to pursue it further, it will be under a general good behavior way of spirituality- do onto others, be a nice person, be helpful and generous. Plus the bonuses of being able to marry and bless people too. Still working on the whole water to wine thing, so far I can only turn it to vodka, which isn't that bad.

Family-8

No change. I lost an uncle this year to old age on my mom's side. I continued to be closer to Mom and Dad and visited them more. Both Dad and Mom got sick this year, but they are better now. I had a great time hanging out with Tina and Jeff, and always look forward to talking with them. As read in an earlier blog, my POS uncle continued to find ways to spoil family gatherings, but that's getting redundant. No new marriages or kids.

Health-6.5

Down a half point from last year. I gained back some of the weight I lost last year and am presently not going to the gym. My allergies suck ass. I moved here to get away from allergies and now I'm allergic to all the crap out here. I'm fine when I go back home to visit now, freggin ironic. No major health issues except more of the same from last year. My joints hurt more and I'm tired more often. It's getting really hard to get motivated to do anything. I like sleep. A lot. I spend most of my off days napping and being lazy. I'll still get motivated to take a walk and do chores, but I get bored quickly. ADD I guess. I still need to get stuff done though, as I need to get my grill work done at the dentist and I should go to a orthopedist and an allergist to get things checked out. I've been craving a pool to swim in and I may go and re-join 24 hr fitness to go do laps at 4 in the morning after I get off work. I need to take my health way more seriously as I DID turn 30 this year. Starting to feel my age I guess.

Overall-7.25 No change from last year. I gained in some areas and lost in others. All I have to do this year is maintain the areas that I gained in and get back what I lost in the others. Luckily the areas I lost are relatively easy to gain back. Here's to a productive and good year 2007!

Part 3 continued

So we leave my Uncle's house to go and drop off my Grandma at my POS uncle's house back across the bay in Foster City.
Background first on why my Uncle is a POS. He's one of the youngest of my Grandma's 12 kids and has been adopted as the baby of the family, can never do wrong in their eyes, yadda,yadda, yadda. A snake oil salesman if you've ever seen one, the man could sell water to a fish and sand to a thirsty man in the desert and not feel bad about it at all.
He's screwed over members of my family in the past with botched business deals and lives a comfortable $30,000 millionaire lifestyle with his wife and kids, which I hope, will disown him and screw him over once they grow up, just as he's done.
The biggest kibosh he's done was right after Grandpa died. I mean RIGHT after, as in within hours. Grandpa had terminal cancer, and was given a timeframe to live without treatment at home hopped up on painkillers until the eventual day came. POS uncle finagled to be their caretaker of the estate after his death through whatever brainwashing he did. The day finally came and Grandpa passed. Hours after, once his body was removed from the house and with his brothers and sisters outside the house, he locked himself in the house and rifled through the house, claiming jewelry, what-nots, and raiding Grandpa's social security and private stash of around $50,000. Grandpa was old school, and kept his cash in a box, hidden in the garage, where he and his children knew where it was.
He volunteers to take care of Grandma and takes her in. At the funeral, he had her so hopped up on medication that she did not know where she was, let alone being able to say goodbye to her husband of over 65 years.
The house was sold, and it's belongings sold or donated.
My father and the rest of Grandpa's kids instructed my POS uncle to attend a family meeting to discuss the affairs of the estate. In reality they wanted to confront his behavior and the missing money. Everyone knew about the money and goings on in the house, but he played dumb, denying everything. They offered an admittance and be forgotten clause and everything would be good, but he still denied it.
He was officially disowned from the family. Some of us felt betrayal and hatred to him, others pitied his existence. He decided, without consulting the family to partially put Grandma in a community center during the day (effectively dumping responsibility) where she can whither away into senility. But he still takes her social security checks and uses them to pay "rent" for his mom to live in his house. He denies her phone access to talk to her children, and finally took away her house key so that she can't come and go as she pleases.
Anyways- back to Christmas Day.
We had told my POS uncle that we would go and drop her back home at 6pm. We showed up at 6:10pm to a house with all the cars there and lights on in the house. My father and I get out of the car and escort her to the front door. I say goodbye and go to wait at the car because I refuse to see my POS uncle's face ever again for fear of getting a assault charge on me.
I'm waiting at the car with Mom and my cousin Jen for a few minutes. Dad is pounding on the door by now with no answer. We've been waiting for over 5 minutes with nothing. Dad is furious. I'm not really scared of him being mad at my uncle, but more afraid of his stress affecting his heart. I yell out to them to come back to the car so we can figure out what to do. Grandma is sobbing heavily and speaking in Portuguese to what amounts to, "Why is my son doing this? Everyone will hate him, he doesn't love me to treat me this way."
Now we have to find his phone number through 3 different people and 2 cell phones. We get it and call a few times with no answer. We leave messages and then decide to leave and take her to my folks house. Minutes after we leave, he calls back saying that he just got back in and he has company over. After a broken discussion, he calls back again saying that he was in the backyard and we should have gone back there. Backyard huh? We checked, there was nobody there, and why the hell would you be hanging in the backyard on a cold December night? Idiot.
He tells us that he will pick up Grandma at 9 at my folks house. Great, now he's on my turf.
Dad and I are pissed. We get home and I grab a quick drink. Dad makes Grandma some homemade croquettes (basically crabcakes) to eat. We wait. I really don't want to be there when he comes, but where am I going to go? Can't drive because I've had a few drinks.
9 comes and he doesn't. He comes at his convenience at 9:30. I thought he'd just honk the horn and we'd escort Grandma out. No, he's too cocky for that. He strolls right up, rings the door, and comes in like nothing is wrong. Any other day of the year and Dad and I would have beat his ass. He knows that we won't do anything stupid on Christmas to ruin a holiday because we have some sense of morality, so he plays that card. I say nothing to him. Not even after he wishes everyone a Merry Christmas. He tries to make small talk, but I have to walk away. Grandma is ready to go and she isolates me in the hallway. I kiss her goodbye and give her a long hug. She's very old and frail, you can feel that in a person. In broken English she tells me that she is sorry and that she loves me. Pretty bad when your Grandma's only words you can understand is a broken apology. She leaves, Christmas is over as we go to bed.
The man likes to play games, controlling ones. His time, his way, his world. Its a sense of vengeance for his family shunning him as punishment for his behavior. He's had plenty of chances and second chances to amend his ways, but he chooses not to. We know that he will behave this way around the holidays just to make our celebrations miserable. It's sad, but we put up with it to see our Grandma. Some of the family wish to not deal with it any longer, some wish to make a stand and some just ignore the problem.
Some may question why I am airing out my family's dirty laundry in a public format. Why is it wrong? Am I afraid that I may tarnish his good name and show people the type of person he really is? I'm sorry. Fuck him. My statement still stands that if I ever see him in a normal setting, I'll deck his fucking ass. You do NOT treat family the way he has. He's disgraced the family name enough as it is on his own. That's why he is my Piece Of Shit Uncle.