28 May 2006

“Hey this is my roommate. He likes to pound ass!”

… Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Wow… so updates. Right now I’m chillin in the back seat somewhere on I-10 in Florida. The last few days have been a blur. And well they should be as I had a 680 dollar bar tab (I had to take it easy since I didn’t have a lot of money). But brief rundown/ lessons learned on this trip:

I love lesbians.

Girls named Kari from Kentucky who are hot as shit and making out with you will not sleep with you because of the gigantic rock on her finger.

Girls named Erin won’t sleep with you cuz her girlfriend is angry and she just got nailed an hour earlier.

Erin’s girlfriend won’t sleep with you because the guy she’s making out with is hotter than you. However both girls will give you their digits and place of employment so you can call and come visit when you all get home.

Girls named Julie won’t sleep with you cuz your younger brother managed to stay sober longer to spit more game.

Girls named Tara won’t sleep with you cuz “I’m gonna pass out on the floor cock up, why don’t you come ride it?” is not a good line… apparently.

Ordering tequila shots by the handful for yourself to catch up with everyone else that happen to be drunk… not a good idea, as I am no longer vomit free since 2003.

Oh, girls named Natasya from Macedonia who are back in training as a competitive kick boxer and who will match your tiger style with her crane style will not sleep with you no matter how badly they want to because it will get them fired. Also when confronted with a Mui Thai stance, she will grapple your ass and start throwing knees, which in the middle of a dining room is just fucking hot. It’s hot anywhere but it was hotter there.

Girls named Janelle from the Philippines will not sleep with you even though you promise to give her your e-mail and profess your love for her in Tagalog.

I am now immortalized on Carnival Imagination, as I was walking past the dice table I heard the dealer on stick say, “winner winner chicken dinner!” I stopped, then I heard it from the roulette table. And neither person could have seen me as I was behind both of them, and sober (read: not yelling).

Crazy Polish dudes don’t appreciate a solid cock block, and they will return to the scene of the crime after you’re gone. Only to be ignored. HA!

When I am in full on bumrush drunk mode and come into the room and kick off my sandals not unlike a ninja and Joe tries to block them from hitting him, I take exception to his arm block technique and tell him not to shush me like I;m the damn toxic avenger.

Oh, if you party till 430 am and have to wake up at 7am to disembark you will be hating yourself. However when you decide to be the goodwill ambassador to friends in the line by delivering champagne to them it makes it slightly more bearable. Oh, and when someone says to you, “Jesus Christ it’s 8am!” the only proper response to that is, “booze can’t tell time”.

Going through customs with a buzz=FUN!

Also, since the line to disembark runs past your room, getting in line is for losers, instead, open your door sit in comfort drink champagne and watch cheaper by the dozen two and wait for the line to pass you by. Cuz really, why wait in line in you can watch TV, drink and smoke.

Oh, and family sucks. Well, mostly my brother, since he decided he needed to inform everyone at our table that I have another addiction. I laugh at brown words. It’s juvenile I know, but suddenly a light bulb appeared over everyone’s head when they suddenly realized why I was always giggling like a schoolgirl whenever they would announce anything to do with the duty free. So then, for the rest of the night people would just walk past me and drop a kaka here, a feces there and doodies abound (ok, I’m laughing really hard at the thought of poop being flung about so willie nillie). So yes, there is another confession for you. Oh, when people say stuff like, “yeah but, fuckin the roads are horrible” all I hear is “butt fuckin”. Anyhow, it’s quarter to 6 and we’re in Georgia and my brain is addled. So I don’t know when I will post this. But I’m sure I’ll scam some wifi somewhere between here and Detroit.
well, i had posted this about 6 hours ago, and after awaking from my nap, seems i did not actually post it. meh. meh. anyhow, yeah, if someone had an rss and would like to copy the original update from the bottom in the comments i'd appreciate it.

24 May 2006

Yaaaaar! show me pirate booty!

Well, it’s been an interesting last couple of days so far. I’ll try to make this concise… but you all know me. Anyhow, we drove from Detroit to Miami starting Sunday morning. For the most part is pretty easy going other than my brother still being drunk when we started. And since he was drunk, he was goofy as shit. The first part of the trip wasn’t bad, we blew through Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky and Tennessee like it was our job. We made tracks through Atlanta that would have made general Sherman proud, the whole while doing battle with a fucking mini cooper that had a vanity plate that read “UK CAR” to which we laughed and then proceeded to do battle. Anyhow, all I have to say is, FUCK FLORIDA. The way they run their toll road, and sheer amount of time spent driving through that godforsaken state are enough to piss a brother off. So we finally get into Miami and traffic is backed up like whoa so we hopped off and cruised the barrio.

Ladies and Gentlemen: I stand before you with a confession. I, am an addict. I love Spanish language programming. If my cable company had telemundo or univision I would never change the channel. As we were cruising through the states I would simply hit the scan button and stop on the first Spanish language channel I heard. I love it. I understand none of it. But I’m addicted. So it seemed fitting to cruise Miami listening to latin programming. I, am a dork.

So after a short nap in the parking garage we boarded the boat. The rest, is a bit of a blur. I know there was a lot of drinking. A LOT of drinking. There was some rowdieness and some game spitting, and allegedly some bar stool falling off of-ing. I know for certain last night I danced to Beat It, and moonwalked to deafening cheers. I may or may not have stood around the craps table just being a drunken lout and trying to get people to come play so I could yell “NEW SHOOTAH!!!!” and “WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER!”. Apart from all that the last two nights have been spent in total inebriation talking with one of the girls from my bowling league trying to solve the worlds problems. Last night, we solved all problems domestic. Perhaps tonight we’ll solve all the global issues. I’ll be sure to keep everyone updated.

Apparently, when it’s early morning and joe hacks up a lung and spits into the toilet and flushes it, in my booze/sleep addled ears it sounds like he litteraly coughed up his stomach and fed it to an Orc. He came out of the bathroom and I slurred, “is there an orc in the bathroom?” since then there have been ritual tithings to the orc. Don’t ask. I’m not sure why I chose an orc. I was still drunk. And asleep. Screw you for judging me!

So today was our day in Grand Cayman. Now, for those of you who know me, you know that I was in pirate heaven. I was just walking yelling, “yaaaar! Avast ye scurvy dogs!” and I was shouting at the pirate ships, which is always fun. The one ship was named the Anne Bonney, who herself was a female pirate under Captain Cack Rackham. i believe that was his name. but that’s where the homage ended as they were sailing under the standard of the jolly roger, and not Cap’n Jack’s. whatever, the Jolly Roger is a lot more recognizable. Anyhow, the one major thing I noticed was the sever lack of urchins hawking their wares. I mean, in the Bahamas as soon as you get off the boat you are accosted by street vendors and taxi drivers and shell game guys and hair braiders every 2 feet. It’s almost work just to avoid being taken in by a scam. But here, it was awesome, get off the boat, and there are a couple of people with signs informing you of their legitimate business and its services and no one yelling or groping, or overall shilling. Plus there are no stop signs. It’s weird. And all the drivers stop at the crosswalks very politely and allow you to cross. I kept wanting to go into any one of the banks and inquire about a corporate account. Anyhow, I have typed for long enough, I need to get my drink on. Tomorrow is Jamaica and I’m sure it’s gonna get ugly. w00t!!

Wow… I really rambled.

21 May 2006

good day.

well, tonight my cousin had his grad party from college. it got a little drunk out and in 8 hours i'm going to be on my trek to florida to leave the port of miami on my way to jamaica and grand cayman. i'm not typing well right now, cuz the jager bombs were flowing freely. i had a point. but i forgot it. anyhow, we're driving to Fla. so for 20 hours it's me my brother joe and my other brother joe. well, one of them isn't my brother. you get to guess which. HA! something something blah blah. yeah, i got nothin. so, leave me hate mail while i'm gone. i've never had hate mail from the blog. anyhow, i think i hear some beer calling my name. gaaah!


HA! you fool! shoulda bought a fuzz buster.

hehehehe. chick does the cola and mentos gag, inside herself.

la la la la i'ma jump off some playground equipment... wonder how successful i'll be?

the worst part is, i have a couple buddies who do this dance every single time this song is played. the sad part? the karaoke hostess makes sure to play it...

02 May 2006

Why I would be a great boyfriend.

ok, so i figured that i needed to list the quatlities of myself that would make a good catch to the fairer sex. then i realized that's pretty gay and lame and i'm not emo enough to be that desperate. so instead, i figured i should list all the bad qualities about me. that way, if some woman wishes to engage me, she at least knows what the time is on the street. so... here goes:

1. I'm loud. and by loud, i mean that i have no volume control. add alcohol and you can hear me from a county over.

2. i drink. a lot. while i don't view this as a problem, past girlfriends have. however, consumption volumes never increased from the time they met me to the time they started dating me. but they still liked to bitch about it. which brings me to

3. I NEVER BACK DOWN FROM A FIGHT. verbal, physical, whatever. i'll try to talk my way out of fisticuffs (the bouncer in me) but when it comes to arguments i don't let it go. and if you're making a big deal out of nothing i will call your ass out and not stand for it.

4. i don't do drama. i don't have a vagina, i don't care about girl talk. i don't care what your friends think about their boyfriends, and i don't care that they pissed you off. handle that shit internally and don't spread it around. that's just poor form.

5. i like sports. i like to watch sports. i like guns. i like to watch gun sports. i like cars. i HATE car sports. i like motorcycles. i like to watch motorcycle sports. it's confusing, i know. but if the channel i'm watching has "SPORTS" in the name, or is an acronym with "sports" in it... then no, i will not change the channel to watch the notebook. again, i don't have a vagina, it does not interest me.

6. i will never be honest about how many girls i've "been with". for the most part, i picked i a number and stopped counting thereafter. no i can't put a name to every person. and if you ask, the answer is always 12. the only reason this is: i don't know the number. and thinking about it is too much effort. so, 12 is what you get. and 12 is what i stand by.

7. i don't get jealous. i've dated enough strippers to have found that emotion useless. you wanna go out with the girls to a singles bar? fine. you wanna dress like a hooker and have dinner with 3 of your exes? have fun. you wanna end up in someone elses bed instead of mine at the end of the night? curb... meet girl, she has been kicked to you. HOWEVER! if turnabout is fair play... then ok. fuck who you want just don't bring me any diseases.

8. i'm blunt, and crass and tactless. well, that's not truly true. i have all three qualities, i have however, decided they serve me no purpose in the day to day. so don't ask me questions you don't want honest answers to. "does this make me look fat?" nope. the fact that you outgrew it 6 months ago on an eating spree makes you look fat.

9. i'm fat. and not in that "does this make me look fat" sort of way. if you have eyes, you can see i'm fat. if you have hands, you can feel i'm fat. if you have ears, you can hear me wheezing cuz i'm fat and out of shape.

10. because i'm fat, i sweat. sex with me is like having a lubed up pig convulse on top of you. eventually i'm done and you're questioning why you let me do that to you when you secretely hate yourself for subjecting yourself to the whole experience.

11. i snore. upstairs, and down. fair warning.

12. i know all. and i will argue a point to the death. till you prove me wrong. then, i will concede the win, but until then... watch your ass, cuz i'll be obnoxious about that shit. two weeks later, after you've forgotten, i'll bring up some information that supports my claim. you will not be happy.

13. i'm 27, lack gainful employ, and live with my parents. I'M A CATCH! hehehehehehhe

so, any ladies who read that and want a piece of the chud... well, you can reach me at:
FindlayTex - Aim and Yahoo messenger.
DrunkenChud@hotmail.com - MSN

anyone else? well.. i got nothin. i've been drinking (surprise!) and the wings lost their first round series tonight. so... i'm sad since now the only thing to watch is basketball (ack!) or baseball (slightly better than basketball). grrrrr. well, that's all.