Profile of Heroes:Crockett and Tubbs

Alright it's official, next month I will be spending a week or so in Miami. I will spare the exact details of who, what, and why, but let's just say it pertains to business. I will be staying on the Top Floor of a five star hotel in a room overlooking Biscayne bay a couple of blocks from downtown. In order to be prepared I have to get started on a few things.

First, I must drop a few pounds, I mean I am fat and pale people. The last time I checked hot ass Latin supermodels were not into chubby pale dudes. So I joined the gym. That's right I joined the YMCA. I know that some of you are thinking "well that's just not like Rocky at all." But the fact is that being a member of this health conscious group is just another arena to get involved in some ridiculous adventures. Besides, do you know how nice it is to slap on some headphones and just stare at all the tail walking around the place? I highly suggest it, if you have the means. Which I don't really, but something will come through I am certain of that.

So in trying to drop a few pounds in preparation for this trip I had an epiphany. What better way to drop a few pounds then stocking up on pills? Normally one would have to spend a bunch of cash to buy pharmaceutical drugs on the street, but i went right to the source. I made all the calls and had three appointments set up for yesterday.

First stop the free clinic. After waiting for about an hour in the lobby watching kids with old coats and dripping noses bother the old geezers who were coughing up chunks of lung, I was called into the exam room. It was an older doctor, most likely retired. Perfect.

"What seems to be the problem?"

I went into a speech about how I used to have insurance and I had hurt my back causing sciatic problems. But now I was broke and with out insurance and it was acting up quite a bit. I told him how I worked for commission now and I have missed a few days of work. The whole time squeezing my face in agony. He did some flexibility tests and I feigned pain at all the right moments. You see I did have back problems once, but they never came back.

"I think it is your sciatic. You should get an MRI, we can set one up for you, and it will be covered by the clinic."

"In the mean time I am going to give you a prescription for muscle relaxers."

"Alright doc, but I don't know about the MRI, last time I had one of those I became completely unhinged. I started sweating and shaking and they had to do it over twice."

I crossed my fingers.

"Well we can get you some Xanax too, but just for that day."

"That would probably help, and trust me doc I want to get healthy and not be on medication at all, but I gotta get back to work."

SCORE! I had played the cards perfectly. He wrote out the prescriptions and I was on my way. The best part is that all of this including getting the prescriptions filled cost me less than thirty bucks. I love the welfare state.

Next stop; the shrink, another charitable organization flipping the bill for my devious lifestyle. I again found myself in the lobby waiting, this time it was a bunch of average looking people. After looking around I realized that the place was actually a substance dependency center and that they took care of court mandated DUI rehabilitation. Shit, I though that for sure this was going to be tough. I had walked into the belly of the beast. Surely these people could smell the addiction on me and were onto my game. I sat and contemplated surrender and retreat.

Right when i was about to get up I saw these morbidly obese woman walk through the door. She was out of breath from the one flight of stairs and was talking dramatically on her cell phone. She was obviously over emotional and constantly flustered. I watched as she went into one of the offices. "Oh please lord let that be the shrink I have to see and I will do your work for my whole life." I have no shame.

I waited and sure enough, I got sent into the large woman's office. It really wasn't that hard, I basically told her the truth about my life. The excessive drinking, the meglomaniacal thoughts, the sleepless nights and my philosophy that this world is riding the shit tornado to oz. I even added that I eat because I am depressed and that I am depressed because I eat. I swear I saw her eyes swell with that one. The only real lie was when I said that I wanted to change all that.

She immediately had me meet with the nurse practitioner who prescribed Ambien and some antidepressant shit. I was hoping for more Xanax, but I would gladly take as much Ambien as they would doll out. Again this all cost me with the price of filling the prescriptions less than thirty dollars.

I was a bit upset that I did not score a large dose of Xanax or any opiate products. I plan on going back right before my trip and telling them that the antidepressant doesn't work and that i have to get on a plane and might have a panic attack. They will definitely take mercy on me then.

When I got back to the office that afternoon, the in house chatty Cathy had to know exactly where I had been. I said the doctor and of course she wanted to now what it was for.
"You don't have strep do you? My sister's boyfriend has strep and he gave it to her so I said you can't come over because I have to work and my husband is too busy to get sick or god forbid stay home and take care of the kids....." She would not shut up. Eventually there was a pause and I said " I have a bad back, it's killing me right now."

"oh, well I have a bunch of pain killers at home that I'll never use, they make me sick. I'll bring them for you tomorrow."

The lord works in mysterious ways. Miami Vice here I come.

Rome is Burning

For those of you who have not heard the news, Asheville is the happiest place to live in the United States. At least it is according to ABC news program 20/20. I did a little research on what the actual reasons were and to my surprise there was no mention of drugs. Interesting to say the least. I wonder if they mentioned the county sheriff that is currently in jail on federal bribery and extortion charges as well as a local charge of destroying evidence in a rape case against his brother in law. I wonder if they mentioned that the same sheriff's department broke down a door to a home to charge a couple with violating a flag desecration charge that doesn't exist. I wonder if they mentioned the average household income of the city and the lack of affordable housing. It must be the pretty mountains and all the drugs.

Move to Asheville, do some drugs, and watch as the rest of the empire shits the bed. At least you'll be happy.

Welcome to the Thunderdome

I must say thanks to those of you have visited this blog, you are truly the cornerstone of the coming revolution. I must express my regret however that not all of you have taken the poll at the bottom of the page. How am I to do accurate research on this situation if no one participates? I just want to judge how sick you people are, is that so wrong? For those of you who answered one dollar I will have you know that I have skipped out on work today and am unshowered waiting at home with huge bag of marshmallows and a stack of singles you can come by anytime. For the one person that answered a hundred dollars..well...let's get real it's a simple formula of supply and demand. I mean if there are people willing to do it for a dollar you need to think about your price structure. Of course I do understand that there is a premium for a better service so I am still up for talking. For those of you who "don't eat marshmallows ", I am calling BULLSHIT! Who doesn't eat marshmallows, did you have a bad experience at camp? Get real everyone loves marshmallows and most people say I have a nice ass, so stop fooling yourselves and take the poll over again. This time be honest with yourself.

If you visited this site and have not taken the poll then don't ever come back, I don't have time to play games.

How Not To Pick up Chicks Part One: Nazi Sex

OK, here is the deal. When you have desirable body like mine, you actually have to do your best to make women realize that you are not the one they want. So I will share two of my latest exploits. This is the first one....

The other night I was at the bar, with two of my good friends. As it turned out they were both going after the same chick. I did not want to be involved so I knew that I would have to use my self defense against beautiful women routine.

When I was first introduced to her the first thing I noticed was that she was a bit drunk. The second thing I noticed was her legs. Long delicious legs. I knew it would be hard, so I pulled out the heavy guns. She had on these boots that were an immediate turn on for me. The conversation went something like this:

Me: :"Hey nice to meet you. I'm Rocky."

Her: " Nice to meet you, I've heard some stories about you"

I went half mast, what had she heard? Was she anticipating this moment?I didn't care I immediately had a fantasy about her cooked up in my sick mind. It involved her marching around my room like a Nazi, only totally naked, except for her boots. I pictured her pubic hair trimmed into a little Hitler moustache . Ideally she would then walk up to a podium with a microphone that was at vagina level. It would then be about thirty minutes of her vagina reading from Mien Kompf with the noise of thousands of people cheering echoing around the room. It ended with her slapping a star of David on my forehead and mounting me while gas came out of the heat vents. I came back to reality. How could I keep her from wanting me?

Me: " I doubt those stories are true. I like your boots."

Her: " Oh thanks, they are vintage"

Me: "Sweet. More importantly, " and I said this next part loud enough for all her friends to hear, "have you ever fucked anyone while wearing only those boots?"

The place went silent. Mission accomplished, I had proven that I was not her type. Everyone was dumbfounded, but she did answer.

"No."

With that she had proved that she was not my type either. No harm no foul really, but my friends were pissed, they both pretended to be surprised. As if I had never done anything like that before. Apparently they had failed to tell her all the good stories about my antics. I don't think that they realized I was doing them a favor by eliminating myself from the competition. I mean let's be honest if I was involved in the competition for this woman's affection, it would get ugly, real ugly.

I went to a different part of the bar to fend off some more women.


It's that easy to not pick up chicks sometimes, other times it can be more complicated, I'll get into that in part two.

Effective Birth Conrol

Nothing will make you want to get vasectomy more than walking into West End bakery on a Sunday morning with a severe hangover. I would estimate that the adult to child ratio is something like four kids to every adult. I could barely walk straight to begin with, and having to navigate a sea of screaming children running around all hopped up on cinnamon rolls is not the way I wanted to start out my day. Don't get me wrong, I like kids, I usually identify more with them then I do my own adult friends. It's the twenty four hour job of parenthood that scares me, I mean I can go for a couple of hours reading and playing make believe, but eventually the internal urge to escape to a bar where I can smoke cigarettes and gamble on professional sports will overpower my need to be "Uncle Rocky".

I have been quite scared of the whole pregnancy thing lately, I have had about nine friends (no exaggeration) tell me in the last year that they are going to be parents. With the exception of my own brother, all of them were unexpected occurrences with their unwed partners. Sinners. I would like to say that all of this is the underlying reason why I have been off my game lately and unable to close some ass, but I'm sure it has more to do with my increasing obesity and my sour attitude that is increasing at an alarming rate. I mean I hate condoms and in the past have relied heavily on my ability to make woman laugh and believe that I'm a good guy (a.k.a good father material) to get laid, not a good combination. Slipping one past the goalie would be an utterly devastating event for me right now.

The latest couple in my long line of friends to announce their current state of procreation did so under some very auspicious circumstances. They rented a bar for a "birthday party" and had a whole buffet set up, it was a cruel trick to get degenerates like me there. I like both of them and all, but being reminded of how old my friends are getting really brings me down. So if it were not for the free food I probably would not have been there. About and hour into the party they announced that they were indeed pregnant and engaged as a result. BAM! Number nine, another one bites the dust. The most disconcerting part of the whole situation is that about three months beforehand my friend, the one with the baby inside her, was in my bed before she got together with her baby's daddy. We got drunk and ended up rolling around my King sized bed for a few hours. I mean shit it could have been me, luring my friends in announce that I would be a dad. I would have made a huge spectacle of it though, perhaps with a game of charades where we use props and special effects to show people what was going to go down nine months from now, and I definetly would have charged a cover.

The irony of the situation is that last night one of my pregnant couple friends tried to set me up with a very attractive friend of theirs. They had invited her over while we were watching an NFL playoff game. Good call. Woman always find me attractive when I am drunk and screaming profanities at a television set. The fact that there was a pregnant woman there did not help either. There was a pregnancy vibe to the air, not a good situation to be introduced to a woman in. I mean even though their friend was very attractive and more than likely a good person to be around, every time she talked or looked at me all I could hear was a voice inside my head saying over and over "She wants your semen. She wants your semen."

I used to look at the vagina as perhaps the most beautiful of god's creations, A wonder of the world. I could spend a life time looking at one, caressing it, bringing it pleasure, but now it is a different story. I see the vagina as god's cruel joke. I was born unto this world with an obsession to constantly seeking them out, often time for devious and perverse reasons, but I now see that it is a trap. I now think of the vagina as a good friend that I once had,but have been betrayed by, forsaken to never make amends. I wonder if there are any woman out there who are strictly into oral sex, or even anal. I am sure there are, but they are probably all with pro athletes and rock stars. I am a doomed man.

No Quarter

I threw a hamburger in a chick's face once. It was pretty classic. I was on a road trip with a few dozen boozers who decided to pack a couple of vans up and go to six flags one nice summer afternoon. There was talk of a fully stocked condo with a private hot tub. All I know is that I was corralled into a vehicle with about six lesbians and one semi straight chick that I was all about at the time. I remember only a few things about the trip there like being packed in like sardines and the ungodly amount of tequila. But the one thing I will never forget is the constant bickering. As cool as these women seemed to be, they could just not stop being emotionally challenged.

There was one chick in particular that would not shut up, and she made it obvious that she did not like the occasional hetero make out session that I was initiating in the back seat. I'll call her Sappho, mostly because at the time I perceived her as being desired by all the others in the group. She was actually dating a good friend of mine who I think was fed up with her at the time. I could never figure out why they got together, Sappho seemed like a psycho, whereas my friend was a normal woman. I cursed myself for falling into this situation.

By the time we got to the condo four hours later, everyone was on the blitz. It was like that scene in Caddyshack when they let the employees into the pool. Clothes were off, furniture was broke and drugs were being consumed in large quantities out in the open. Pure madness, and through it all Sappho, could just not have a good time. It was some lesbo shit about not getting enough attention from mommy I guess. I mean at one point the hot tub, which was by no means private, was filled with naked lesbians that were starting to get real friendly with each other. I mean I was fucking stoked to witness the debauchery, and so were most of the people there, but Sappho was still upset.

Well after a little persuasion from the a couple of security guards, we decided to take the party inside the condo. We soon found out that the place was devoid of food and beverage and after some debate I got nominated to drive out and get as much beer and as many burgers as a hundred bucks would buy. I'll tell you what, it buys a shitload of burgers and beer. I'll tell you something else, I should not have been driving. The van was packed up with a few adventurous souls including Sappho who merely wanted to escape my friends at the condo who had busted out the heavy drugs. Well an hour later we were still cruising around, we had gotten some beer (we were thirsty) and had yet to pick up any food. There hot bi chick that I was with suggested we go to a strip club. I'll tell you what, if a woman that you are about to have sex with wants to go to a strip club, go. There is no better way to ensure that you are about to have some of the wildest sex ever.

Well wouldn't you know Sappho was not thrilled about it. I calmly explained that she could wait in the car while me and my girl got freaky with some strippers. The tension was building, I was not about to be cock blocked by a pissy lesbian. Well after asking around we found a strip club, which actually turned out to be a straight up brothel. I mean I was excited and so was my girl, they took couples and credit cards. What more could you ask for?

But no Sappho wasn't having it. Quite frankly neither was the rest of the crew, but Sappho took it really personally, and was disgusted with me. She started bringing out the big guns like "degenerate", "scumbag" and "chauvinist" . I don't even know what a chauvinist is. We got back to the condo after stopping for food and everyone was impressed with quantity of disgusting burgers we had=. I don't think they realized that we had been gone for almost two hours. No one even ate them, they just sat around and got even more inedible.

The party went on into the morning hours with people crawling into dark corners to get some sleep . It was an open loft so there was no where to really go except the floor, but I was lucky enough to score a couch and a sheet. There were people doing lines like ten feet away listening to hair metal while I got involved in some serious dry humping action on that tiny couch. All of a sudden out comes Sappho from the darkness. She had become completely unhinged. She started screaming at the top of her lungs, her eyes were a deep red and her hair was standing straight up.

"Turn off the fucking music. There are people trying to sleep. What the hell is wrong with you guys?"

I immediately burst into laughter, which was a mistake as it turns out. She had turned to me and came attacking.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?"

I wanted to answer, I wanted to tell her what I was laughing at. I mean I thought that it was obvious what I found funny, but I would have gladly explained it to her.

I started to speak but before I could say a word she jerked the sheet of me, exposing my companion's toplessness and my raging hard boner. She started to walk away with the sheet. I guess she thought it was her war prize. She had another thing coming. I jumped up woody and all, and grabbed the closest thing next to me, which happened to be a disgusting burger soaked with beer and a cigarette stubbed out in it.

"Hey Sappho, eat it"
She turned and I wound up like Roger Clemens in the early days. I can still see it now, replaying in my mind; her face turning with a scowl, her scowl changing into complete shock and then helplessness. The burger became weightless in the air, floating gently across the room and compacting directly on her face. Even to this day I can close my eyes and a grin comes across my face as I play the image over and over in my mind. It was epic, the stuff dreams are made of.

Sappho ended up being restrained by some of the larger dykes and I was blamed for generally ruining the whole weekend because of that single incident. People especially my friends would not stop bringing it up and reminding all the women what a pig I was. Those that did not hate me for it, hated me the next day when I started a fire extinguisher fight at the amusement park and accidentally soaked an old lady in a wheelchair.

Today I saw my friend that was dating Sappho back then, she was at my favorite Mexican cantina during lunch. I found out that not only did she dump Sappho after that trip, but she hopped of the ferry boat to the island of Lesbos and set sail on the S.S. Cockrider. I guess I can consider that vindication, but I'm still bitter.

Bottoms up

Maybe getting drunk at lunch and coming back to the office was a bad idea. I am sure that I have learned this lesson before and that I am bound to learn it over and over again until finally no one will hire me. I just stopped the work effort over here when I said to a co-worker " I hate it when you leave, but I love to watch you go." I mean people acted like her ass did not deserve such a compliment. You should see it, it's amazing, and I'm not even a fan of a lot of "junk in the trunk". But she carries it so well. I mean it's the type of ass that stuffed into the right pair of jeans immediately makes it to the top of the line up of images that I think about when I run off a batch.

But now I know the error of my ways, don't say what others are thinking, you will just become the scapegoat for their pent up sexual frustrations. I guess I really don't know how to behave, I spent most of my illustrious career in a restaurant, a place where those types of comments might actually lead to sex.

"Oh you like my ass? Why don't you follow it into the walk in and get a closer look."

The Irony of the situation is that not only is she the person that I answer to, but I am supposed to have a "review" soon and she was (up until a few moments ago) the only ally I had. That and the fact that her husband is a fanatic bodybuilder who could crush me with very little effort make for quite the ironic tragedy. I can't wait for the next company event.

"Oh honey here's the guy that is in love with my ass."

I blame it on illegal immigration and border security. It can all be easily blamed on the Mexicans. Well specifically the Mexicans that run the restaurant across the street from where I work. You see I am by nature a frugal drinker and cannot pass up a deal when I see one. No matter what time it is or what I got going on, thirty two ounces of Dos Equis for two bucks is a steal. Three of those and a taco all for under ten bucks. Why don't these people learn to inflate their prices and squeeze every penny out of their customers? If they were charging six bucks a beer I would have thought twice about kicking so many back. Defend the homeland, keep the Mexicans out!

The redeption of Boccie

Yesterday I took a bit of the old "soldiers joy" and played some boccie ball. For those of you who actually might read this there may be a few that ask "what the fuck is he doing taking morphine and lawn bowling?" What you should be asking is "what the fuck is he doing lawn bowling in the middle of January?" I guess they are both valid questions. I don't really know the answer to either question, I would guess that it has something to do with a need to be self indulgent, a complete lack of morals and general apathy. Comparatively my father, by the time he was my age, had a home, a career, and one child with another on the way. If one were to match us up man to man, he would most certainly win by most standards. You see at age thirty I am on about my fifteenth different job in the last decade, have paid for two abortions and have barely enough money in my bank account to pay the rent for my crappy basement apartment. Sounds sad I know. The fact is I don't think my dad's ever played boccie ball before, let alone had a bugged out transcendental drug induced experience while playing it. I'm not saying I have it better than he did, just maybe I was wrong to compare. We are both different men in different worlds related only by a few microscopic strands of DNA.

Baby Jesus was a Narc

I like this town, it is filled with the type of freaks that I like to run with and hopelessly devoid of any real opportunity. It's the perfect vantage point to sit and watch the rest of the world crumble. But why the fuck is there nothing open on Christmas day? I guess I tend to forget from time to time that we are surrounded by bible thumping religious zealots.

The real problem was that all the stores closed early on Christmas eve. It's not like I found redemption and wanted to send a cheery young lad to fetch the biggest Christmas goose ever, but I actually didn't have any food. I have to eat. Christmas is just another day for me, no big deal. The only significance in my mind is that it marks the day the sun starts to shine longer. When its cold and dark I lock myself in my crappy basement apartment playing video games and watching porno all day. When it's nice out I lock myself in my crappy basement apartment and play video games and watch porno, with the windows open. The breeze is really rather nice. But I digress.

So there I was Christmas morning with no food, a friend had invited me to dinner with him and his wife and I said I would bring something. Normally I wouldn't have cared, I did have some whiskey which is better than any actual food product, but I wanted to make this a nice dinner, something to remember.

I was standing in front of the store looking up at the sky thinking about how much baby Jesus hates me, all I wanted was a frozen pie or microwavable lasagna. I actually contemplated sneaking in through the cardboard compactor in the back, a cool trick but a rather dangerous one that I will explain sometime in the future. Then I realized that I hadn't raided the fridge at the house where I was house sitting.

Well to sum it up I ended up bringing deviled eggs AND whiskey to the dinner, but somehow I ended up at a bonfire where I threw most of the eggs at this college chick who just would not stop running her mouth about what classes she was going to take next semester. I don't think she liked me too much, and neither does baby Jesus.