Monday, September 28, 2009
My only concern is the shirt fits me like a glove and I'm scared to wash it. Might have to smell like a urinal for a couple days till it fades away. And yes ladies, I'm single and I'm all yours.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Renter: Did you do that on purpose?
Me, sheepishly smiling: What are you talking about?
Renter: Now I know you did! That guy was pissed!
You see, my neighborhood looks like the above (sorry, the Paint drawing I did wouldn't upload). The horizontal street is pretty busy and making a left hand turn at the stop light can take a while. People take a left a block sooner and take the winding road which spits them out right by my house, completely avoiding the stop light. Sometimes I take that route but the road is pretty rough. Nobody babies their car like I do so I don’t like to put the old Jeep through that. Since there are kids all around the neighborhood (ick) I usually take it pretty slow. I hate it when people come whipping through there.
I have this thing for luxury car owners. They’ll be the first ones to pass you and abruptly cut you off because they wanted to go five miles an hour faster. They are asshole drivers. Sure, I might be a little jealous of their vehicles, probably mostly because of the horsepower they have. My six cylinder Jeep is by far the slowest vehicle I’ve ever owned. When I’m on the road I’ll purposely “ignore” the turn signal of some broad in a Beemer who wants to change lanes. My tires stick out past my fenders, probably wouldn’t even scratch my car is we were to happen to make “incidental” contact.
Thursday there was a long line of cars at the light so I decided to take the rough road. I turned left, accelerated across the street and took it out of gear. Within seconds some guy in an Acura was on my ass. I was going about 15 miles an hour when I put it into second gear. I quickly slowed down to 10 miles an hour. I have a mesh window in back so I couldn’t exactly see his facial expression. Fuck it, I flipped on my turn signal and dropped it into first gear and crawled into my driveway with the speedometer reading zero. I could hear the guy in the Acura punch it hard accelerating to the end of the block, flying past the Renter who was waiting for me to pull in.
You don’t know what kind of a kick I get about doing shit like this.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
The puppy woke me up early on Saturday. Usually she sleeps in till 10:00 but for some reason she thought 8:00 was late enough. After letting her out I cleaned the kitchen. The Renter and I were going to her company outing (Brewers game) and an acquaintance from the bar was going with us. I don’t know the guy super well but we’ve chatted sports a lot. He’s older, 55 or so, and a pretty respectable person so I didn’t want the house looking like a pig pen if he were to happen to go inside. So with the kitchen clean I sat down and turned on the Badger game (playing Wofford, Northern Illinois, and Fresno State to start the season? Who starts the season with three lame duck teams in a row? 20th ranked Miami (FL) is already 2-0 in ACC games). A little before noon the Renter and I hit the bank and the local diner for some food. 2:00, back at home, the Renter tells me to wake her up at 3:30. “When are you going to clean?” “I’m not.” Needless to say I didn’t wake her up at 3:30. At 4:00 she woke up and found me in the basement lifting weights. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” “Why didn’t you clean?” This set off the fireworks to the point where she took a garbage bag into the living room and threw pretty much everything in to it – plates and forks included. I took a shower, filled up the cooler and went outside. 4:30 the friend showed up and by 5:00 the Renter had cooled off and we were on our way.
The Renter’s work knows how to throw a party. We were in a special section in Miller Park where you get two free beers with your game ticket and all the food you can handle. I started off with the usual, a plate of nachos covered in cheese and jalapeno peppers. I had taken one bite with two peppers before the national anthem was played. At the end of the anthem I had already started to sweat. I forgot that their peppers were the real deal. By the time I finished the plate I was one big sweaty mess. I followed that up with a burger. I didn’t want to eat too much, had to save some room for beer. The two free beverages were punched on my ticket within the first 20 minutes. The first two beverages were punched on the Renter’s ticket by the end of the first inning. Last year I resorted to keeping an eye out for little kids, tripping them, and swapping their un-punched ticked for my punched one. I think I paid for two beers the whole night. Kind of evil and cruel but hey, I drank pretty much for free. This year the Renter said I couldn’t do that so she went around and politely asked families if they were going to use the tickets for beverages or if she could have them. I liked my method better. However, without a knee being scraped she was able to hustle up 12 tickets. Our friend had four beers, I had the rest. They stopped serving at the end of the 8th inning. With one out left the Renter redeemed the four tickets we had left and we had a glorious table full of 16 ounce beers. Unfortunately for us the Brewers won (no bottom of the ninth) and we were forced to leave a couple full ones there.
I staggered out of there. My whole goal was to not run into anyone on the way out. I succeeded in that. However, I also met the Renter’s boss and stuck my foot in one of her co-worker’s husband’s ass on the escalator – in front of the Renter’s boss - none of which I remember actually doing. I got scolded for that on Sunday. I know the guy whose ass I stuck my foot in; he’s actually (gulp) kissed me on the cheek and grabbed my ass before. I told her it could have been worse, could have been her boss whose ass I kicked. She concurred and stopped bitching at me. Guess what I now have to do at her next work outing?
We also have this special tradition when leaving Miller Park. No matter who we go with we always have to take the Renter’s Liberty (I sure ain’t driving). Instead of following the big line of cars to get out of the parking lot we take the “side road,” hop a couple curbs and we’re out of there in a flash. Certainly couldn’t do it with your average car (although with the FA’s recent driving history he might do it unintentionally).
Later that evening I had a beer at a wedding reception at the corner bar’s banquet hall. One beer. Free beer a-flowing and I had one. Ladies and gents, I was pretty toasted.
Sunday I left the house for the Packer’s game around 11:00. Thankfully this week they had the pool sheets so I was able to drink for free. The building manager won the first two quarters and spotted me $5 (the second one with a 2 (?) in a 21-21 game). The Renter was trying to sell her Tom Brady jersey but surprise, nobody wanted that fag’s jersey on their back. Then she brought her laptop up and placed 15 orders for jerseys for people, collecting cash for some, a promise from others, all on my credit card. She didn’t even sell them for a profit. All this hassle for nothing. I see disaster written all over this.
After the Packers got their asses handed to them by the Cincinnati Bengals I went home to let the puppy out. The Renter had another great idea: let’s call over Mr. Fudd and put the living room couch in the basement! The couch I bought for the living room six months ago is a bit large and you can’t go from the living room to the kitchen without having to step over part of it. I told her I was in no shape to be moving furniture. “That’s ok, Mr. Fudd and I will do it all.” Guess who was sweating his balls off trying to get a six piece sectional in the basement? I know I lift weights and shit but that’s just for 30 seconds at crack. Moving furniture sucks ass.
(I actually started riding the bike after working out. I noticed the leaves have started to fall and I have a huge black walnut in my back yard. I don’t need anyone saying, “He died raking leaves?”)
So now I guess the Renter wants to move the 61” TV to the basement also. I have this strange feeling the it won’t be operational by the time it gets down all the stairs.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
I probably should add that the other team were all women. And I had to play the very last game with the team win/loss on my shoulders.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Monday, September 07, 2009
And whoever has been leaving nasty comments on here you can stop and save your energy. I'm quite happy with my lifestyle and I'm not about to change any time soon.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Hockey17 commented on how he ordered jerseys from Champjersey.com and liked quality. I appreciate the input. However, he also said he wears a large t-shirt and the size 50 jersey fit him well. I ordered the size 50 jersey. Large t-shirts don’t fit me. There goes $70 down the drain. Kind of dreading their arrival now.
Another one on the dinner date: Whatever happened to the co-worker you took to dinner? Well, after my buddy Pete from the next building over warned me about dating someone I work with I kind of put the cabosh on it (that certainly ain’t spelled right). After that dinner date she became very needy and I don’t put up with that kind of shit. Eventually the emails slowed down and she stopped swinging by my office for fresh air breaks. Done deal.
And as for my last doctor appointment, telling her I only had 3-4 drinks a day, some smarty pants commented: She would have said, “You are an alcoholic and you will destroy your liver in 5-10 years if you continue!” But no newsflash there, right?
I got a kick out of that one. Not because of the comment, but because someone was bored enough at 2:00 on a Saturday morning to be reading my blog. I was happily passed out. Who’s the winner now?
Thursday, September 03, 2009
When you see my underwear on the bath tub it usually isn't a good sign. Either I 1) peed myself in the middle of the night or 2) I shit myself. I think I went for the two point conversion last night.
Gross but yet kind of fitting on the eve of the college football season.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
It’s been getting cool later in the evening so I’ve been going up to the bar a bit more. Friday the Renter’s friend stopped over. “I thought you guys were going to the bar?” I was finishing up the Brewers game. “Anyone up there?” “Just a couple old guys.” I went up there later and found Mark and James, must have been who she was referring to. Sweet, what better to do than talk sports for a couple hours on a slow Friday? I’ll take the old guys over skank hoes any day.
Saturday I ended up talking to this guy who was getting a pitcher of beer next to me. We started talking about the Brewers and somehow got on to hockey (which I know nothing about). He was telling me about this hockey conference/meeting in Las Vegas that he attended and ended up hanging out with a bunch of hockey players and none other than Mathew McCaunahey. He went back to his table and came back up one other time for more beer. When I went to the restroom he just happened to be in there. I stood next to him, whipped out Mr. Teeney and went about my business. “Boy, you sure are a tall drink of water.” This caught me a little off guard. Isn’t that like something the gays say, or maybe your prison inmates? And then he went on to show me how fucked up his knees are from playing hockey while we were still in the restroom. I think he was still talking when I walked out the door.
And in the delightful news category…
I won $1,000 at the casino on Saturday!
And in the depressing as fuck news category…
I lost $1,000 at the casino on Sunday. Still a zero effect for me but the fact is I had the cash in my grubby little hands! Fuck!
The Renter and I went in together on a cigarette making machine. It’s pretty easy to use, just have to work on adding the proper amounts to get a consistent fill in the cigarette. Good timing, Gov. Doyle’s cig tax increase today means the regular ones will cost $.75 a pack more.
Monday I was sick. I don’t know if it was the new cigarettes but you know that little thing that hangs down in the back of your throat? Well, mine was the size of my pinky. As a real test of how I felt: I didn’t poop on Monday. That’s usually a twice daily event for me. So I stayed home, didn’t shower, and slept with the puppy till about 3:00 pm. I had just given the puppy a bath last week Thursday and now after sleeping next to my stinky ass she smells again. As does my whole room, but that’s par for the course.
Lastly, after not drinking all of Monday I had some fucked up dreams at night. At one point I was driving my car on the freeway while driving another car by remote control. People ended up pissing me off and I passed a couple cars with the remote one to the point where I couldn’t see it – and crashed it. Got pulled over. The officer seemed to be pissed that I hadn’t been drinking and tried to say I had laced my cigarettes with an impairing drug. Like I would even know how to do that! Weird shit. Actually scares me into drinking. And I don't like spiders, either.