Tag Archives: drinking

“Fishing” on Topsail Island

Well me and my buddies from work decided we needed to take a guys trip out to the beach to go fishing. We planned it for two months, got everything set up, and before you knew it the day had come to get ready. My good buddy Kenny who had taken me fishing on the Neuse river a little while ago (here) would be driving us, but since he’s married with children now, we couldn’t drink at his house. Everyone else decided that was lame as shit, so we all went out to my boss’s trailer in Smithfield. For those of you not familiar with the Johnston county area, that’s what you might call the ass end of nowhere.

I had driven my scooter to work that morning with one hand, carrying my biggest cooler in my left hand out to my side the whole way, cause I hadn’t really planned any better way to get a giant cooler to work on a scooter. That worked out well for me though cause all I had to tote out to the country on my death machine that evening was a folding chair, a case of beer, and a bag of clothes and supplies for the weekend. (which still left me looking a lot like a pack mule)

Now you have to understand, the ride from Garner to the back side of Smithfield on a scooter that only goes 30-35 mph is a long, bumpy, and hazardous one. The winding country roads, especially on a Friday afternoon, are filled with angry, potential drunk rednecks in a big hurry to get home and have fun. (it’s a fun county) But this means I have to straddle the side of the road for dear life the whole way there. Often I found myself attempting to ride the six inches between the painted line and the edge of the pavement, my feet being rhythmicly slapped by the tall grass, occasionally dodging stray tree limbs and dead possums. But with the prize of a weekend of booze and bars, bikinis and surf, I kept on the hour long ride until I found myself barreling down a rutted dirt path winding between trailers and a pond, and finally pulled up to Drew’s house.

Now Lee, the oldest guy on the trip, was already well lit, and was polishing off his first twelve pack of the evening. I got to meet Drew’s retarded brother, his little baby grandchild, and a fair number of his woman’s family, who were visiting from West Virginia. Let me tell you, those are some wide open broads, cause every one from the youngest who was about my age, all the way up to the ancient grandmother who had to be pushin seventy five, all cussed like sailors, had filthy minds, and actually had more sass and attitude than I do. Let me assure you it is very rare to find one, let alone four or five women, who can give my motor mouth and vulgarity a run for it’s money, but these kick ass bitches left me in the dust wondering what had just happened. But I will tell you more about them some other time. They invited me out to their family reunion to meet the whole clan, so hopefully I’ll have some really badass stories to share with you then.

But two cases of beer later, Lee, Drew, and myself were all drunk as hell and hit the sack around midnight or so. Dark and early at four fifteen Kenny came a knockin’ on the door, wraslin’ us all out of our deep sleeps, and we packed up his truck, loaded in, and hit the highways headed for Topsail Island. Of course Lee and Drew, the old men, wanted to go back to sleep, and Kenny and I were ready to party like it was 1999! So he threw on some old David Allen Co. and some Johnny Rebel and blasted it as loud as it would go until they finally woke up about half way there.

We got to the Jolly Roger Hotel and Pier around six thirty, before the sun was up yet, and we couldn’t check in till around noon, so we packed our crap in the cab and hit the pier for some good old fashioned Man vs Nature. Beer’s were cracked, lines were cast, and we settled in for the less intense part of the trip. A front was moving in so we didn’t get much sun, but the wind whipped the ocean spray up past us and the smells of a thousand fish and fish ghosts wafted in the breeze.

Lee onthe left, Drew on the right (with his queer juice)
Lee on the left, Drew on the right (with his queer juice)
The Jolly Roger pier just before dawn.

The Jolly Roger pier just before dawn.

I rock so hard it hurts. Also, I didnt realize that glow in the dark skeletons shirts were not as cool as camo when you are fishing. My bad.

I rock so hard it hurts. Also, I didn't realize that glow in the dark skeletons shirts were not as cool as camo when you are fishing. My bad. Apparently real fisherman wear camo shirts and hats to hide from the fish.

Well it turns out there are not only no fish in the ocean, but there are also hardly any women on the beach. It was rather disappointing. Later that evening as I was laying in the motel bed I described it, “that was fishing kind of like this is getting laid. I was in the right place but nothing was going on.” In fact, there were hardly any seagulls either. In fact I see more seagulls in the Walmart parking lot on a regular basis than there were on that beach. Bad bad Leroy Brown caught the biggest fish of the day.

Were gonna need a smaller boat.

We're gonna need a smaller boat.

Under the pier, Topsail, NC.

Under the pier, Topsail, NC.

So drew and I ended up getting wicked hungover, and took a nap while Kenny fished and Lee drank. But we all woke up around seven to go out drinking for real this time. It’s kind of weird meeting your girlfriend on your blog because it kind of makes you edit your stories so as not to get in trouble. But this was an especially wild night and I think it needs to be told. (Don’t be mad baby, I can’t help it that I attract fun) There was a little grill and bar across the road, which also happened to be the only bar on the island. We had stopped in for some lunch because the sign said they had the best pizza on the island. Surprisingly they sure did, it was some of the best food I have ever slid down my gullet. I had some pizza and later a steak and cheese sub, and both were incredible.

So we rolled up in the bar side of this joint to check it out. There were two pool tables, a jukebok, two tables and a bar. It was a fairly typical ocean side dive bar. No AC, no fans, just a bunch of open windows around a dimly lit room full of smoke with a few sad looking old people hanging around as if waiting for Jesus to take them, and a crabby, overweight, college age bartender. The sign on the door said it was raggae night, but at the moment it was library-in-the-vatican quiet in there. That immediately went as soon as we walked in.

Now you know me, I get a little wild from time to time, as evidenced by my legal record. Well Kenny and Drew both worked as bartenders in that honkytonk I went to. Drew and Lee are both bikers. Lee’s a crazy alcoholic who was already almost blacked out by this point. And every single one of us is looking to cause as much ruckus and mayhem as possible that night. Kenny jumps on the jukebox and throws on a bunch of Disturbed, and a variety of eighties metal. Drew grabs a pool table and racks up, and we all get started playing some pool.

Well Kenny is an amazing pool player, and Drew plays in tournaments every week, and Lee picked up at least a respectable amount of skill over his many many years on this earth, but I however suck realy bad at pool. I mean I don’t just suck a little, I suck so bad it creates a breeze in the room. I really enjoy playing pool, but I’m terrible and I know it. That’s no problem though, because they used me to make them look a little less badass, and as people started trickling slowly into this sad little bar they began fleecing them for all they were worth. Within an hour we had a table full of mixed drinks bough in lost games, and we were all well on our way to hedonistic debauchery.

With the exception of a few of the braver and younger men, everyone else in the bar was huddled as far away from our table as possible. It was almost comical. We were shouting and cheersing and singing at the top of our lungs, jumping around like wild men. We must have been the liveliest thing that has hit that town since hurrican Fran. A few hippies came in to check out the raggae, saw us, heard the metal, and promptly left.

Now by now Lee was rip roaring drunk off his ass. If he hadn’t been holding on to that table he probably would have fallen off the planet. So Kenny comes up to me and tells me, “HEY MAN, I THINK LEE HAS AN ADMIRER!” Confused I look around as to who has been paying Lee any attention. “CHECK OUT THAT OLD MAN AT THE BAR, THE ONE WEARING JIM DANGLE SHORTS. EVERY TIME LEE GOES TO DANCING HE GETS A BIG ASS SMILE ON HIS FACE AND STARTS DANCING TOO.” I broke out laughing, cause I had seen this fag sitting up there by the bar, and had found him comical enough already, but that took the cake. Well to make matters worse, a few minutes later Lee called me over. “JOSH! JOSH! COME HERE MAN. HEY, HEY … UH HEY CHECK THIS OUT MAN. I DON’T KNOW IF YOU KNOW THIS BUT THER ARE SOME DUDES WHO LIKE DUDES IN HERE MAN! NO KIDDING, I JUST HAD TWO OF THEM COME UP TO ME IN THE LAST FIFTEEN MINUTES.” To say I laughed would be an understatement. I had to go to the bathroom cause I laughed so hard. And by the way, apparently dive bars at the beach carry single ply toilet paper that is rough enough to literally cut your cornhole, so watch you self if you end up there.

Shortly before the raggae mon came out, this crazy bitch named Esch walked into the bar. Earlier at lunch she had been with her boyfriend, but now she was alone, and drunker than all hell. I saw the shark fins pop up around the bar, along to the theme of Jaws. Drew just happened to be right next to the stool she plopped down at. Now Drew may be a little rough around the edges, but that man is a huge charmer and no woman can resist him, it’s insane. Skip ahead two minutes and the wildest woman at the beach is playing pool with the wildest dudes at the beach.

I wasnt allowed to take many pictures during this part of the trip.

I wasn't allowed to take many pictures during this part of the trip.

She was on a team with Drew against me and Kenny. (cause I was apparently the closest thing to a bitch team mate for Kenny, insert my sincere laughter here) The testosterone started flowing, plenty of shit was talked, and before long, this bitch had her titties out distracting Kenny so he would stop kicking their ass. All the old people at the bar started getting pissed cause we were helping her get drunk and they all thought she was preggers. She was in fact not with child, she just had a little belly and a shirt that was poofy around the mid section, but we thought it was funny as hell. So she keeps getting wilder and wilder, and we keep thinking it’s funnier and funnier. She was (we think) pissed at her man and out to have some revenge, so she was trying her damndest to hook up with Kenny or Drew, neither one of whom wanted to bang her. They just wanted to have some fun, and didn’t give a fuck about her.

Lee on the other hand, who is 52 and single, and drunk, saw a twenty something hottie who wanted some action and began spitting his best game. In case you were wondering, his best game was horrible and offensive, but this chick was too drunk and stupid to care. Somehow it came out that one of the guys with us had a shaved dick, and at the top of her lungs Esch yelled, “drop your pants! If you shave I will suck your dick right now!” This was the second time in the evening the law was called on us. The bartender told us all to simmer down and stop making trouble. Esch started kissing random guys. I went outside to try and avoid getting arrested if they showed up again, and that was when Lee spit out this fucking gem. “Bitch, you better take four days, cause I will K. I. L. L. kill you. I won’t even bother unless you have four fucking days for me to fuck you to death.”

At this point the old women at the bar pulled the chick outside to get her away from us, and we all went back to the table to ask Lee what the fuck he was thinking exactly when he decided to communicate threats. We began gathering our shit up to leave, and Lee walked back over to Esch and the two old cock blockers with her and said, and I quote, “I’ve been with three women before, you could be the next three if you want. I’ll stick my dick in all three of your mouths!”

We dragged him out of the bar, stuck him in the hotel room, and told him if he left we would kick his ass. We hopped a taxi and headed to the next closest pair of bars. They sucked. We left and went back around closing time. Apparently the only fun to be had was in the deadest bar I’ve ever been in. We left for home the next morning and stopped for breakfast, some supplies, and then hit a tourist trap. What can I say, any building that has a giant gator on the front is cool with me.

I loves teh gatorz.

I loves teh gatorz.

I wish I knew how they made this, cause it rocks.

I wish I knew how they made this, cause it rocks.

I got a ton of things I shouldn’t have. By the time I left I had a slingshot, a pirate flag, a beer bong, two real gator heads, and a drivers liscence that says I’m Jesus. All in all a wild time was had by all, no one ended up arrested, or in the hospital, or cheated on their women, so I think it was a good trip. I’ve got some great stories about bosses being fired, upcoming halloween, and plenty of mayhem and madness, but for now I’m off to Mule Days in Benson, which is kind of like the redneck mardi gras around these parts. Tell me about your crazy stories from the beach, I’d love to hear some more.

Tales from the front lines: Valentines day ’08

Holy bat shit Batman, I don’t know about you but this Valentines day seemed crazier than usual. I’ve got stories galore to share with you.

I don’t normally go for all kinds of mushy shit, but there was some unfortunately. My work buddy Kato proposed to his woman on Valentines day. (I’ve decided to call work Kenny “Kato” and “Kenny & Rachael” Kenny by his real name, cause it’s getting hard to remember which one is which and I can’t call both of them Kenny or you will all be confused as shit) First of all, he declared bankruptcy a while back, so he really should not have even been approved for a line of credit at Friedman’s Jewelers in the first place, but those suckers let his broke ass right through the system and gave him one of those little shiny circular things that chicks like. So his woman had to work late, and she was having an especially hard day with people getting fired and getting sick and all sorts of crazy shit. So when she walks in the door, she’s ready to collapse and almost in tears. I don’t know exactly how he popped the question to her, cause he didn’t really elaborate on all that. But apparently she said yes and she busted out the waterworks, which I’m pretty sure every chick does. And then she had to call up her mom. And naturally the mother wanted to know what the ring looked like over the phone. It’s got a round part that’s gold and a shiny rock on one side, just like every other engagement ring in the history of mankind, what the fuck do you think it looks like?

And then they had to call her two kids into the room and explain it to them. The oldest, who’s 14 I think just shrugged and said cool and went back to playing video games. (Not a big deal really, they’re all living together anyway) But the young one, who’s 11, and wired like a squirrel on meth, and borderline mental, well he didn’t take it so well. He started hyperventilating and pulling his hair. He started crying and said something along the lines of, “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’m going to have to think about this!” And Kenny and his woman were like, think about what kid? Get in here. What are you talking about. Well apparently he thought that if Kenny married his mom, his daddy wouldn’t be his dad anymore. This might not be funny at a first glance. You may look at this situation and see a distraught child who’s upset about the shattering of his family, but that’s not what I see. What I see is a kid who’s confused in such a way that his poppa will get pisseder than all hell and start some serious shit with Kato. His exact words were, “Lets fix this before I have to tell my fiance I can’t marry her because I’m going to prison for killing her ex husband.” Kato’s a rather confrontational and violent person, so the idea of his kid going home to his poppa and poking the hornets nest was hilarious to me. But it’s all straightened out now.

Also funny about his getting hitched is the fact that’s he’s a fairly blatant racist. He’s gotten in trouble for spouting off the N word at work. He’s old school country, through and through. But he’s engaged to a Puerto Rican. I guess love is blind. I shared this story at the bar Valentines night and in return heard a pretty good race joke. If you are a sensitive Puerto Rican, tune out now. Why don’t Puerto Ricans do their own taxes? …. Cause you can’t sign tax forms in spray paint! Zing!

Anyway, so Kato had a good Valentines day, but my boss, Drew, didn’t fare so well. Here’s my best rendition of the conversation we all had:

Drew: Well I’m glad your bitch wasn’t so fucking crazy, I’m about tired of all this female shit.

Kato: So you didn’t get laid or what?

Drew: Hell no, fuckin bitch started acting the fool. I got her eighty bucks worth of clothes last weekend, and when I did I told her, ‘This is your Valentines day present. I’m not getting you any more expensive shit.‘ So she said all she wanted was just a card or something.

Me and Kenny: What are you? Stupid? That’s some amateur mistake bull shit dude. Everyone knows women tell you they don’t want any more shit and not to go out of your way, but they lie. They really mean get me all kinds of crazy shit and it had better be something expensive, something I actually want, and it had better be a fucking surprise. You can’t just get a card and leave it at that unless you want her to be pissed. There was a fucking flower stand at the end of the road on your way home dude. You could have pulled off in the dirt and gotten some thing for your woman from the Mexican chicks. They had chocolates and teddy bears and shit. Come on man.

Drew: Hell no. She said she was cool with a card and that’s what I fucking got her. I put it in the little red envelope and left a nice note in it on the end of her bed so she would find it when she woke up. So I got stuck with some paperwork from the girls in the office and I was ten minutes late. Ten fucking minutes! And as soon as I walked in the door there it is. There’s a big ass frog balloon that says some shit about love, there’s some chocolates, and there’s a new Dale Earnheart shirt. So immediately she walks in like ‘You’re late!’ And I’m like ‘Yeah, ten minutes late. I’m sorry I was working to earn you money to blow, Jesus can I get a minute to relax before you jump on my ass?‘ So she jumps in with ‘What, you didn’t even get me anything?‘ So I’m all ‘I got you almost a hundred bucks worth of clothes last weekend!‘ She said ‘Well you could have at least stopped and gotten something little.‘ And so I said ‘Well I’m sorry I didn’t get you a fucking balloon. Thanks a lot, now we’re both pissed off. I’m going to bed.

Me and Kenny: Dude, seriously, that’s just a dumb mistake on your part. You should have gotten that woman something shiny, you know they love that stuff. Tonight before you go home, just go get her a balloon or something and tell her you are sorry. She’ll probably forgive you.

Drew: Hell no. No fucking way. If I do that, then she wins. I’m not getting her a god damned thing, period. If she don’t like it she can go find some other idiot who will buy her a fucking balloon. Not me. If I get her a balloon I’m just going to pop it right in front of her. Like ‘Here you go baby here’s a balloon for you.” (makes popping motion and sound) Cause thats what she’s doing to me. That’s what all women do. There you are, just walking along in life. And behind you are all you hopes and dreams like little balloons. And sure enough, like taxes and death, some bitch will start following you around and one by one, she’ll pop every last one. ‘Oh what’s that? You’re tired from work and you just want to go out and hang out with your friends? (POP) NOT TODAY MOTHERFUCKER! Bwahahahahaha!‘ Fucking bitch, I’m about tired of all this naggin’ bull shit. I’m ready to stick my boot up her ass. And wherever she lands, that’s where she’s staying. Cause she’s not staying with me anymore!

Me: Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Idiot. Flowers are so cheap! Hahahahahahahaha!

Drew: Shut up and get back to work bitch. It ain’t that funny.

My own VD was filled with neither romance nor drama, but it was kind of fun. Kind of lame, but also kind of fun. I went up to my bar for Thirsty Thursday. But when I got there it was transformed into some sort of romantic diner. There were red table cloths and expensive menu’s with food they never serve. There were candles and shit. I turned right around and left. Screw that shit. Who the fuck goes to the bar for Valentines day? Not people who are celebrating love that who. Lonely people who don’t have anyone to dine with. I just wanted to get drunk with my friends, but love was ruining my evening. More precisely, the woman who took over control of my bar is ruining my evening. In fact, she’s ruining Judd’s in general, and she needs to be stopped. But that was a task for a different evening, for the moment I was just looking for someone to hang out with.

So I hopped on my scooter and headed to the neighborhood across the street to see if Kenny and Rachael were doing anything. As I started considering my options, I realized that I don’t have very many friends who aren’t in relationships. At least not close enough to go visit on my scooter. So I pulled up to their house and through the window I thought I saw my sister in law. I pulled around back and knocked and when I entered I saw not only Kenny and Rachael, but Nate and Sami and another girl from the neighborhood. They were all excited to see me, and excited that I was going roller skating with them. WHAT? Yes, roller skating. And not drunk roller skating, the sober kind. All the girls were super excited, and all the guys were mostly just pissed. Especially about the sober part. But off we went anyway.

Now on the way they informed me that the only one they could find that was open on Valentines night was in the middle of the ghetto. Great. Here I am with my Hank Williams Jr. shirt with a rebel flag and everything, my freshly shaved skinhead looking haircut, and my generally hostile honky demeanor. It was going to be a long night. When we got there, after chugging several beers in the car, I was immediately greeted by a mountain of a black security guard. He patted me down and cleared me to go through (not sure why exactly pat downs are needed for a skating rink, but not a good sign) and somehow he missed my utility knife that I keep clipped to my pants at all times. I forgot I even had it on. So as we are walking in, the Carolina Rollergirls were leaving. I was kind of bummed that I didn’t get to see them practice their skating, partly because they are so hot, and partly because they are so violent, and partly because it would have given me something to do besides actually skate. As in: watch their sexy asses go around in circles.

They may not be models, but their ass kicking gives me a chubby

So we were left with nothing to do but skate. That was boring. There was the regular assortment of weird adults who hang out at rollerskating rinks waaaay too much. there were three or four black dudes practicing their faggy hip hop moves on roller skates in the middle of the floor. There were the slutty ghetto chicks who like to shake their ass like hookers, but while moving around in a circle. There was that one white guy who has on some sort of team jersey for some sort of ridiculously gay roller skating team. There was the pixie cut lesbian who figure skates all night, whilst simultaneously doing some sort of tae bo dance move thing. She was weird, but for some reason I kind of wanted to do her. Perhaps it was my subconscious mind telling me that anyone who could lift their leg that far behind them probably had all sorts of Olympic kegel muscles. Who knows.

After about an hour of listening to urban bull shit music everyone got tired of that and we went to go get drunk like we should have to begin with. I got a free chicken wing out of the evening though, and I savored every crispy calorie of it. Plus our regular bartender was absent that evening and his replacement was some much better looking female. I mean, Jeremy is pretty good looking, but I’d much rather look at chicks, especially on Valentines day. The night ended on an especially pleasant note. At the bar I picked up this hot chick named Rosie Palm and went home for a massive orgy with her and her five sisters.

Overall I had a pretty good Valentines day, at least I survived it. Next year I’m picking up a hooker and banging her to Air Supply when I first wake up, just so I can get all the romance out of the way and spend the rest of the day having fun however I want. I hope your VD was filled with beer and someone else’s bodily fluids, happy black history month everyone.

Lost in the Television

So I went to court today and sat there for the entire afternoon. Many many hours. But they were too busy to get to my case today, so it got continued. You see, my last name starts with a letter way at the end of the alphabet. sometimes that’s nice, like when you get seated in the back of a class room. But sometimes, like when you have to wait in court, it is kind of lame. But I was glad today because that means I get to be a free man for the holidays! Woo hoo!

So I went out to celebrate tonight at Thirsty Thursday. But when I got there I was kidnapped to go deliver some pot, and I was gone for a half an hour or so. And when I got back, we only stayed about another hour before Nate and Sami decided they were ready to come home, and having no vehicle of my own (fuck you cops) I had to come back with them. And now they’re watching Lost in the front room, shit I haven’t seen yet, so I have to stay back here and occupy my time. So much for celebration you dream crushing bastards. Oh well, at least we have beer.

So while we were at the bar, I found out that my friend Lennon was in a nasty car wreck yesterday. He got in an accident somehow, and ended up rolling his truck five times. He was all fucked up. And he was supposed to play bongos and sung back up vocals for the live show. I mean, his ankle was all wrapped up, and his hand was swollen to twice the normal size with a cast and shit. It was sick. but he was a total trooper. He tried playing the bongos for a while (aka one song) and it was too painful. So he unwrapped his arm, put the cast on in a different position, took one ace bandage off his leg to pad his left forearm, and played most of his drums with one hand, only playing simple bass notes with his cast. It was awesome.

So anyway, I’m a big fan of the show Lost. I watched the entire first season when it originally aired on TV. But since I’ve been a slave for the last seven years, I missed the second season when it aired. I was washing my masters feet or cleaning out the stables or something, I don’t remember. But if you have ever seen the show, you will know that much like 24 or Heroes, you can’t miss more than one episode without being completely ,well, lost.

But I recently found out that my baby brother had both season two and season three on DVD. So under penalty of death I convinced him to let us borrow them so we could catch up. And for the last four days, both of the TV’s in our house have been airing different seasons simultaneously as I watched season 2 and Nate and Sami watched season 3. And despite the fact that I work a full time job, I have managed to somehow almost finish an entire season in three evenings. That’s a lot of Lost people, a lot.

And in the spirit of my overindulgence, I bring to you, an ode to Lost. Here are a few reasons I like the show, in no particular order. (aka, number of episodes they have appeared in, thank you IMDB)

hot mama

Emilie De Ravin, aka Claire Littleton: Uh, she’s hot, she’s blonde, and as far as I’ve gotten in the show, she currently has no man love on the island. (Edit: nevermind, she’s back with that emo rocker junkie fag) Plus she’s rocking that Australian accent like nobodies business. And she’s had a baby, (in the show) which not only means that she was all sexy preggers for a while, but also means she’s putting out, and qualifies her well for MILF status.

not too shabby not too shabbynot too shabby

Evangeline Lilly, aka Kate Austin: This vixen manages to not only look good fighting in the rain, but also blew up her dad and rode off on a motorcycle. Doesn’t get much more bad ass than that. Plus she was the only character who was actually a prisoner when the plane crashed, which makes her extra hot. I just wish she’d stop flip flopping on how she feels and just pick a guy to hook up with. Do I like Jack? Maybe. But do I like Sawyer? Sort of. Damn, go screw someone already, you don’t have much else to do lady. You’re stranded on an island with a bunch of attractive people. What’s your problem?

porr little rich girl

Maggie Grace, aka Shannon Rutherford: She may be a whiny, spoiled, self centered, rich beyotch, but she’s a hot one. And if memory serves me right, she was hooking up with her step brother at one point, which makes her both kind of gross, and extremely kinky. I’d wrap it up for sure, but this is one wasp I wouldn’t mind getting some honey from. (yes I know, wasps don’t really make honey, but I’m all hopped up on Tylenol PM, so cut me some slack) Unfortunately she’s dead now, thanks to my next hot chick, so bummer and whatnot.


Michelle Rodriguez, aka Anna-Lucia: So she’s been in a million movies and apparently she can only play one character. The incredibly tough but somehow slightly vulnerable bad ass hottie. She makes it a regular habit of kicking peoples asses, mostly men, plus she killed a bunch of people in the show. So apparently sex and violence do go together well. (duh) Hell, she even had sex with Sawyer just to steal his gun, so more power too you, you tasty little chalupa. The downside, she’s a cop. The upside, she lost her job for being too bad ass! The downside, she was shot dead. The upside, it’s Lost man, who knows if she’s dead or not. I’d like to see a zombie Anna-Lucia. I’m just sayin’. Resident Evil 4 anyone?

time for some therapy

Cynthia Watros, aka Libby: She’s a little dumpy, kind of, but she’s also got that natural pretty thing going on. And yes, she may be a shrink, which I hate, but she’s a cool shrink. the sort with boobies and little or no standards. For instance she was about to hook up with Hurley, who despite having a great personality, was also crazy as hell, and fat, and had a jew ‘fro. None of those are attractive traits. Except in my case, cause I do like my women crazy. And I do dig the whole chubby thing. In fact, skinny just isn’t hot at all, eat a sandwich, damn. Anyway, I liked her because she boosted my ego. She made me feel like a crazy, pug ugly dumb ass with a good personality might be able to score with some hot chick, if we were stranded on a (sort of) deserted island with very few eligible men to choose from. Unfortunately she’s dead too, so fuck it all. Why are they killing off all the hot chicks instead of all the dudes? Where are the new hot chicks?

Also, there was an Asian chick, but that’s not really my thing. She was sweet though. And there was this old gnarly jungle lady. She was French. It looked like she might have been hot a long time ago before she was stuck in the jungle running from crazy ass “others” who want to kill her or do tests on her or whatever those weird bastards are up to. (don’t tell me) And there was her daughter, who is sort of evil, but sort of not, and she would be hot, but she looks a bit young, and, well, her nose freaks me out. I’m not into big noses, and hers is a bigguns. Maybe if I were drunk, then she’d be hot. Anyway.

Plus there’s that big ass African dude, Mr. Echo. He’s one scary dude! And that black fog, which is apparently electrical in nature. I have no idea whats going on with that. And whatever happened to all that electromagnetic energy that that chode of a turd mofo who was racing around the world released? where did it go? What did it do? And what’s up with the others? Are they savages? Are they evil scientists? Are they good guys? WTF? And will Mike ever get his come uppins? I’m about to start the third season, and maybe this season holds some of the answers, but I am about to burst with the anticipation.

God I love TV. I want to marry it and have infomercial babies with it. Of course they would air on late night TV, cause I’m just not a prime time guy. Except 24, Heroes, and Lost. And the UFC.

Thirsty Thursday

Let me tell you all about this little tradition we have. It’s called Thirsty Thursday. Every Thursday night, me and my friends get together at this bar down the street and hang out and listen to live music and drink. Imagine if heaven had a bar, and every time you walked in it was like the opening scene of Cheers, yeah, that’s what Judd’s is for me.

Technically, it’s no longer called Judd’s. Mrs. Judd decide that if Mr. Judd didn’t sell his bar and permanently move to their second home on the beach that she was leaving him. Now it’s the Garden Gate Cafe. It’s exactly the same, except they put a fence around the patio so it’s a pain in the ass to get inside or move around because everyone is squished together. And they replaced the comfy chairs they had with cast iron monstrosities to match the garden decor. And they hung up some plants and shit. But it’s the same employees that have always been working at the exact same bar. and grill

I started coming there when i was eighteen because my friend Kenny would always go there and play shows. You see, he liked that bar because it’s an old people bar. There’s not very many folks my age who patron the establishment. Just our group. So it’s not too loud, (except when we show up) it’s not too crowded, you don’t have to wait long for beer or a turn at the bathroom. And you for sure don’t have to sideways walk through shoulder to shoulder crowds looking for someone in strobe lights under deafening techno while you’re drunk. That’s nice.

But Kenny knew this guy Joe who was a cook there. And he knew Mr. Judd, because he was there all the time. So Kenny started playing punk rock shows every month or so. And they started getting more organized and attracting larger crowds and more bands. Eventually we built this gigantic modular stage that got set up in the parking lot, and hundreds of people would show up for these big parties. Mr. Judd expanded his bar into his storage area, almost doubling it’s size. He added pool tables and extra booths and even an indoor stage for the bands to play at. (he was baking serious loot off of these shows)

So I was there a lot, underage. I would sneak in a pint of whiskey in each pocket and get sloshed and mosh around like a crazy drunken teenager. I loved it. I have a lot of memories there. Well eventually Kenny’s band broke up, and the music scene moved somewhere else, and Mr. Judd sold the joint. The new owners wanted to clean it up and make it more of a family friendly restaurant deal. So the months and years passed and eventually the stars aligned and the winds blew a charged up air on out to Kenny’s house. Once that scent of destiny reached his nostrils, he knew it was time to go back.

So he started inviting people out to the bar on Thursday. Thursday was late enough in the week that people were ready to do something, but before the weekend when everyone had different plans. And pretty soon a good sized group of people started coming around again. Nothing like before, but fun none the less.

Well, the new owner recognized that business was up on Thursdays, and she decide to pay Joe the cook, and our old friend Lennon (named after the Beatle cause his parents were hippies, excuse me, are hippies) to come at night and play live music.Lennon on the bongos and backup vocals, Joe on the acoustic guitar and lead vocal. And Joe is a phenomenal musician. He’s fucking crazy. He had this band named Indonation and he toured around actually making a living playing music for a long time. They don’t exist anymore. He’s got a new band now. They have a totally different sound when he’s doing his acoustic set live, but just check out the song Star Stretcher. It’s all about butt sex, and it’s pretty kick ass.

Anywho, so we go up there and booze it up, eat some wickedly delicious food, and groove to the music. They’ve built up a pretty extensive list of covers to choose from. Everything from the Ballad of Curtis Lowe to Possum Kingdom to Epic. And it’s technically open mike night, so sometimes we get surprise performances by other people. Some are good, some suck balls, but they are all fun. Some old man stopped by the other day and did a solo set of acoustic blues and old school country. He was sick nasty awesome. He was in a band too, the Fifty/50 Band. (I’m guessing the average age of the band members) They’re pretty good, a wide range of covers and whatnot. But this guy playing and singing alone was in-fucking-credible. I may or may not have gotten a boner listening to him pick out the melodies. And he had this sweet Taylor that sounded like Satan himself had crafted it out of the bones of angels. It was such a nice damn guitar. Every guy in the bar was drooling like the Miller Lite girls from the week before had walked in wearing wet wife beaters with no bra.

I had a picture to put up but Myspace is being gay and won’t let me access it. Bad Myspace, BAD! Don’t make me roll up the home page of CNN.com and smack you in the e-nose with it. Good for nothing site. So that’s what I’m off to go do now. I hope all of you have a great Thurday night as well. Except my friends in new Zealand, y’all have a nice Friday morning you future living weirdos. Peace and chicken grease world, see you tomorrow.