Monthly Archives: May 2009

Stepping out of the box

Welcome to TMI Thursdays! As LiLu always says: Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

TMI Thursday

Usually I have an embarrassing story about my self or others and it generally makes for good TMI. Well, today I am stepping out of my comfort zone a bit and I have brought some old pictures to the party. Nothing truly bad, but I am bringing the long hair pictures to life or at least the ones I had laying around the house. Enjoy:

Grandmaand a little further back…

Long Hair 2Wait for it…

Long HairAnd for the final blow…. 6th grade skater hair!

Skater dude



Filed under Life

My little man

Yesterday a fellow blogger and all around right on guy, Bksurviving , Tweeted the following: “Hey @SI_PeterKing, you realize that pits must be trained to attack, right? That can happen to any dog. Way to keep a stereotype alive idiot.” I fully support Bksurviving saying this. It stemmed from this comment from SI_PeterKing in defense from other comments made by LeeHaiku:

“Here’s the only point I made: Why have any dog trained to attack people in the same area as people you don’t want the dog to attack… My final words on pit bulls, in 3 Tweets: What I wrote was I laugh when I hear pit bulls are no more harmful than any other dog, and I don’t understand why families with kids use them as guard dogs or pets. That’s it. It’s not a Vick issue. It’s a common sense issue. They’re involved in more attacks than other breeds. If you have a child in close proximity to a pit bull trained to attack, it’s not smart.”

Now, my personal feeling against Michael Vick is he should be treated equally; as in the way he treated those poor defenseless animals. Now, I am not a huggy, happy, hippy dude. I hunt and fish, I grew up on a farm and that’s how life is. I, we (my family) abhor the mistreatment of animals. This case is particularly disturbing to me as I have a little boy that is close to my heart. In fact I raised him since he was first born during the wicked horrible hurricanes of 2005. I am talking about my little man: WINSTON.

m_82ed3edacc2667ec78ad8e721fc1eee1He is an English BullDogge and Black German Sheppard mix. He is an all around badass!

m_8295e7ce8b62fa01e675e94f7ca56753Look out, he’s a killer… A lady killer!

m_cc9ba216305e6c80e0bbc8ba841c7f9dSo what if he is a 100 pounds of teeth and muscle, he just wants his bone.

m_d118d6c65cd619202508fdec8d6d732bHe is chill as a pussy cat! In fact he love da Kittehs!

m_da16663e96437efc32f2166786f0d62dIn fact his favorite spot is chilling on the couch.

l_cc0c8a1248bd33a6bba517f5d7d97560He just wants to ham it up.

n753582265_1568347_658912This is my baby boy Winston. So, Michael Vick or even Peter King from Sports Illustrated, come talk shit on my dog. I dare you! Vick, you would be subject to the Texas trespassing rule and Mr. King, you may need to be smacked around with your own magazine if you feel these type of animals are dangerous. Just like with guns, its not the gun it is always the human behind it.


Filed under Life

How could you do this to me?

Dear Hollywood,

I have a serious issue with your recent bout of laziness. You have taken my beloved cartoons, super hero’s, and comic characters from the 80’s and made them into film. I admit, you have done a few good things with the films but others, not so much. Let’s look at some good things you’ve done: Iron Man, Transformers, X-Men, and most recently Star Trek. But, there is some down side to your non-existent creative license.

Now, think about this, there has been copy catting going on for quite some time. Look how the Power Rangers ripped off Voltron; this was strike one. Then came the endless Spider man series, yes it was cool at first, then it killed itself with a love story. This is where I really noticed the trend of the re-make sequels. Where is the originality? The spice of life that is not previously based off a book, earlier movie, or cartoon/show?

You may be thinking, JP what in the world are you going on about? Well folks, I was at the movies the other day watching Star Trek (decent enough) and I saw the following preview for G.I. Joe, my American childhood hero:

What the hell? Bionic suits? Where the hell did the real hero’s go? Why did Hollywood rape G.I. Joe? Did the maker of the Crystal Skull get another job? Seriously! This is the G.I. Joe I remember:

Hollywood, the He-Man movie “Masters of the Universe” circa 1987 with Dolph Lundgren, does that ring a bell? Everyone should have learned a cinematic lesson from that abomination. For those that forgot:

Oh, did I mention that a new He-Man movie is set to come out in 2010? Yea.

So, could everyone with a camera just stop! Stop your non-sense. Be creative or at least do it old school and get totally bombed and just come up with anything. It would most certainly be better than this bullshit you call a movie. Also, before I forget, I swear to Baby-Jesus, if you screw around with the Thundercats, I will personally kick everyone in the credits, squarely in the balls!

Stop and desist,



Filed under Life, Uncategorized

The things I do for friends

Welcome to TMI Thursdays! As LiLu always says: Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

TMI Thursday

One night my Sis, Da House, his girlfriend and I went out. Total disregard for anyone’ s health we drank our faces off. Well, the problem with this line up is that Da House’s girl was hanging out with 3 very seasoned individuals in the art of the power hour. Sure enough, 1 am rolls around and the binge session began, not that it ever really stopped mind you. We all pay up and break forth to Da House’s homestead.

Upon arrival to the honey comb hideout, Da House’s girlfriend made an ominous announcement, “I am Drunk!” I replied with something along the lines of, “glad you’ve been paying attention”. Then 5 minutes later things go a bit too quiet. You know the quiet I am talking about, where the really loud drunk just sort of disappears. Well, Da House went looking for her and was successful. My Sis and I where sitting on the couch debating about something when I hear this, “Dude, can you come to the bathroom for a minute?” I proceed to the facilities, but as I approach the door I hear this, “Dude, umm before you open the door, I just want you to know you are one of my good friends and I kind of need help with something.” Last time I heard that, things did not go well.

I slowly open the door and stick my head in, but no one was home. Look down, oh there you are, with a naked girlfriend. Hmm, what is that smell, did she, umm. What? Dude, what is that smell. Then I heard, “dude, she is really wasted and she shit herself!” Oh, hell! What a great friend, get me (guy who passes out) to deal with poo. Strong work buddy, remind me to send you an extra special x-mas card this year. So, I did the only logical thing I could think of, I called my Sis over as a witness. We pow-wow a moment and decide that she may need to go to the hospital. Da House informs me she is not quite 21 and we are all accessories to the crime at hand. Hrmmm. What would a medic do in this situation? Oh, right I’m a medic.

I did what we (medics) have done for years, I phoned a friend for supplies. While on the blower I described my dilemma and heard the following from my good friend who was the attending physician on duty that night, “Bro, you better not bring a drunk shitty girl into my ER, we will not be friends. You can pop a line in her and bring her back from the brink. Swing by and I will have things ready for you.” Done! My Sis and I did a drive by in the ambulance bay and picked up the necessary supplies and rolled back the the honey comb hide out.

By the time we got back Da House cleaned her up and got her to bed. I explained the situation and what needed to be done to avoid any unnecessary charges to his credit card via the ER. Plus, I told him what my buddy said, he laughed. So, time to play capt’n save-a-hoe and pop in an I.V. I explain to her that she should not move while I shove a garden hose into her vein, she agreed and said that she needed it. I.V. successfully placed, threats of death would precede any movement on her part. When a liter was pumped in, her color had returned and she said she felt way better.

Next day, follow up phone call to Da House:

Me- Everything cool?

DH- Yeah, actually she was up and making me breakfast. Hell I should have had an I.V.

Me- Does she remember the unpleasantness?

DH- Nope. Says she never felt the I.V.

Me- No, the unpleasantness of her shitting herself?

DH- No, but she will when I make her clean the bathroom this morning, lol!

Me- Nice. You owe me one.

That was the time I saw my friends girlfriend naked and covered in her own shit, while being the good guy and saving them a trip to the ER.


Filed under Friends

Why you are mighty wet

Living in a sub-tropical environment you get used to 3 seasons rather than 4. In Florida, particularly Central and South Florida there is Summer, Fall, and Spring. Spring is hot coupled with an occasional rain shower. Summer is blazing hot and you can set your watch to the rain, everyday, at 4pm. Fall goes from hot to cool and typically cools down to less than 80 around November. We have about 10 days that go below 50, so there is no real winter.

However, driving in today I thought about how our Summer/rainy season is the Northern folks Winter. I always hear about wicked snow storms that take out power and hear how people can’t drive. As if they have never drove before in outdoor conditions. Yes, I realize what I just said and I am leaving it. Well snow people reading this, we have had our first heavy rain of the season. 24 hours and still going strong. Strong enough in fact, that the roof in my office building is leaking. Also, the people on the road cannot drive worth a damn. Like 5 accidents in a 1 mile stretch of road.

So, why am I going on about weather and traffic? 2 of my most hated conversation topics? Because the first rain of the season makes me smile for 2 reasons; it was the start of the surf season and a little Asian lady checked her mail at a bad time.

So I was driving down a residential street during a 3 day long rain and I see this little Asian woman, in a rain coat, checking her mail, and a huge puddle was in front of her… Don’t judge, you know you would do this too. As I watched her slowly walk down her drive way I started laughing, just a bit, because seriously when does a perfect storm like this ever come along? As she got to her mail box I rounded the corner, both right tires hit the what could be described as an asphalt lake, a tsunami esque wave peeled off the side of my car. I watched in slow motion as a 4 foot wall of water hit this poor unsuspecting Asian lady right in the face and washed over her.

Marinate on that for a moment. Asian lady, rain coat, and wall of water. I laughed. I luaged so hard in fact I almost hit the stop sign. I was laughing so hard about the facial expression and feeble attempt to dodge the wave, that seriously I though my sides would split open. Even better was where I was going on this rainy day. I was headed to my grandmothers house to check on her. Thats right ladies and gents, I hit an old lady with a wall of water on my way to see my grandmother.

So upon my arrival at my grandma’s house I was still laughing my balls off. I walk inside, still laughing mind you and see my grandma. She inquires as to why I am nearly pissing myself. I tell her very nonchalantly about the carnage I unleashed. Then, my 80 year old grandmother starts laughing so hard tears are coming from her eyes. Yes, me and my grandma laughed at the misfortune of an old lady.

This is why I like the first rainy day of the season.


Filed under Life

Back to our regularly scheduled program

I have finally returened to the blog world after a solid 2 week party/distracton that was family, friends, work, graduation, and of course the parties. One such party went down this past Saturday and the goal was beerfest, but so many magical things happened. Let me give you the cronological (there was nothing logical here) order of what I remember:

  • Woke up Saturday, fighiting off Friday night. Promptly banned the roomy #2’s girlfriend from making rum drinks.
  • Rallied the troops for Beerfest and chose my horses for the race.
  • Z came over, downed a Beam and water and we were off to get J.
  • Around 4 roll into the Dogtrack to place bets. As we are walking I am telling the boys how classy this joint is. Walk up on a girl spraying liquid from her head, with the car running, in the drivers seat, at 4 pm, with a passenger.
  • Placed Bets.
  • Rolled up into the Orlando Beerfest.
  • Started to drink our faces off.
  • Tat showed some dudes a boob (I chose the right, it was the better one) for a cigarette.
  • I proceeded to smoke her well earned cig.
  • Tat and JP wander off to sell extra ticket, but get distracted by beer.
  • Found out none of my horses made it. Stupid favorite.
  • Found the Dogfish head tent and their hop infuser tower.
  • Met up with some other friends. Watched and laughed at Tat trying to run game on the guy she showed her (singular) boob to. Felt things going down hill.
  • 4 hour power session over, still standing.
  • Guy that Tat was rapping with is now with us. Z and J continue to harass him and talk shit. (this continued all night)
  • Hit the Alehouse with a vengeance. I was saying “Hi” to every girl walking by, no matter their status.
  • Picked up a married couple, because the wife was hot and tattooed. Come to find out they lived down the street from me. Bonus, she has hot, single, tattooed friends too!
  • Decided that Jack and Ginger wasn’t doing the trick. Off to Dexter’s.
  • Hit Dexter’s and pick up a few new “friends”. Get new friends number. Have a drink. Bail.
  • Walked over to some weird club that was upstairs. Promptly stopped by doorman. I was not allowed in because I was not “properly attired. Told him we came to spend money. I argued with him for a solid 5 minutes. Friends reminded me I was the smaller of the two involved in the argument.
  • Walked to the Irish Bar. Ahh, home. Find out new friend is smart and successful. Bonus.
  • End up at Spatz, minus new friend. J and Z are arguing.
  • See an old friend and her roommate. Remember thinking, “for a big girl she is cute.”
  • Decided big girls need lovin too. Just not tonight with JP.
  • Listened to Z and J argue about not getting laid. Z accused J of being jealous. J told Z to fuck off.
  • Thought my decision was horrible. I need lovin too.
  • Dropped J off. Still was arguing with Z about being the only one not getting laid.
  • Hit Odin’s with Z. Flirted (or slurred) with hot bartender.
  • Could not finish the PBR.
  • Hit up Taco Hell and got the big box meal. Laughed at the sign reading, “Eat a big box.”
  • Told the cashier that $7 was the cheapest box I have ever had.
  • Humor was lost on the poor girl behind the counter.
  • Woke up Sunday and found cinnamon twists.
  • Found out cinnamon twists get stale and suck after a few hours.
  • Promised I will take it easy next weekend.
  • Crawfish festival next weekend. New friends want me to go.
  • Damn.

So, as you can see my departure from the blog world was not in vein. I was merely doing “research” for inspiration.I also want those in the D.C. area to know, I was totally bummed for not being able to hang out. I will be there soon. Before I go, I want to think my friends that covered me while I was gone. If you are not reading these people on the daily, you suck. So, check them out:

PQ Nation

I hate so much

Livit Luvit

Culinary Couture

Pleasure Notes

The Change I wish to see


Filed under Non-Sense

not that i’m jealous…

What’s good, kids?  f.B, here.

When the genius behind The Gospel… — JP — asked me to walk a mile in his shoes, Pressure by Lupe Fiasco was the first thing that jumped into my head.  The chorus has a line — “I’ll take the pressure off of you” — that seemed to make great guest-blogging material.

But that has nothing to do with this post.  At all, really.

So let’s get down to business…



It’s a sultry, ugly hooker: we know how desperate it makes us look, but it’s so convincing.  It’s good at what it does.

Why jealousy today?  Well, like any other day, I was following Ludacris’ tweets last Thursday.  Yes, that Ludacris.  We go back like we knew each other from a while ago.   He does a daily “battle of the sexes” question and that day it was:

Ludacris (ludajuice) on TwitterApparently it’s easy to keep it within 140 characters when u dnt use rl wrdz.

But the responses?  People are crazy, kids.

Some of the best ones:
1. drive-bys to verify whereabouts
2. sniffing private parts
3. stakeouts that involve binoculars
4. “i’ve had 1 ex set my car on fire & 1 created an email address 1 letter off from my ex’s email & started writing me from it, lol”

Let’s talk about this last one for a second.  This one starts with “set my car on fire” and ends with “lol.”  Now, I don’t actually use “lol” much, so I may not have any real expertise here, but I can’t help but feel it’s out of context in that sentence.

Assuming, ma’am¹, that you weren’t in the car, that’s still a pretty felony-ig’nant² tactical maneuver.  Felony-ig’nant.  There are three types of men that set your car on fire: dudes that have been on the lam, dudes that are currently on the lam and dudes that are about to be on the lam.  And note: some guys are all three.

But you laughed it off, like the week before that you had gotten slaphappy with some kerosene yourself, like you just couldn’t wait to exhale.  So, congratulations.  I hope the two of you can find a way to reunite and have many babies that should’ve been handjobs instead.

And for those of you who’ve had people sniff your private parts…  What you meant to say is that you let them sniff your private parts.  ‘Cause you didn’t wake up to a stealth crotch ‘n sniff, right?  It happened while you were awake.

him: you’ve been cheating on me.
her: what? no. i love you…
him: if you loved me, you’d let me sniff you; sniff you real good.
her: i guess it’s only fair…
him: *sniff, sniff* you slept with my brother!

You let someone sniff your crotch for evidence of recent usage.  Bravo.  You stay classy.

I, personally, would never sniff crotch for the stench of others, allow mine to be sniffed, or set an automobile ablaze.  But readers: don’t be afraid to tell us all something crazy you’ve done out of jealousy.  If it was a subversive crotch ‘n sniff attack and you’re a nether-smelling ninja, be who you are.  This is a safe zone.

¹The Twitter name suggests a lady and her timeline suggested hetero. Of course, I could be wrong.
²felony-ig’nant: (fe-luh-nē – ig-nint). Ignorant enough to merit criminal charges.


Filed under Uncategorized