My Monthly Entry (Of which I'm sure you're all excited)
So as I write this I'm sitting in my house after a pretty interesting trip to the east coast for my vacation. Went out to PA to hang out with my mom for a few days which was great. I don't get to see her too often so it was nice to just sit on the couch for few days and shoot the shit. However things got pretty retarded for a minute when I nearly got into a fight with her husband. It's one of those things where your parent remarries(I'm sure some of you know what I mean) and they marry a complete retard. I know they guy loves my moms and technically I respect that but just because I was staying in his house didn't mean I was going to listen to his bullshit. Basically what happened was I made a comment about the neighborhood they live in and how nice I thought it was. Innocent enough, complimentary, sure.
He chose to respond with a comment that pretty much sums up why we don't get along:
"That's because the niggers live on the other side of the river."
I, being the calm person I am, immediately responded with:
"Shut the fuck up you fucking retard."
Yeah, I pulled the double fuck on him and called him a retard. Mom stood up as I made my way out of the room, but I didn't notice he had also stood up. He walked around the house to cut me off and ended up in my face saying something in the area of "You need to learn to show a little respect. This is MY house." I should say that this guy is by no means big. Not at all. He's also about 4 inches shorter than me and pretty obese. So without a shadow of a doubt I can honestly say that I could, with no real effort; knock him on his ass and fucking eat his face off. I can think of only one reason why I didn't. It's my mom. I just threw up my hands, went downstairs, and packed. I left the next morning after telling my mom how proud I was that she met someone who really loved her and that I hope she's happy. I also informed Sir Genius of Fuckheadshire that next time I wouldn't be so polite since, I doubt I'll be staying there again any time in the future.
So I decided to drive down to DC, the Washington one, and hang out. Let me say that I had a great time. I fucking loved the Smithsonian. I saw the president get on a helicopter. I ate at a fucking super-posh restaurant where I had the best steak I have ever eaten and 3 glasses of an amazing merlot, and paid over $100 including tip. I froze my nuts off. I walked into the holocaust museum and began walking through only to find a bunch of people walking around in large groups crying like . . . well like people who were witnessing something truly sad. I left. I mean I really wanted to see that place, but something in me said "Hey, let's try and stay perky and have a good time" so I left. I saw all the sites, had a nice dinner as I said, and headed back to the hotel room. Since it's me, of course this doesnt end here. I got into my room and had a glass of water which tasted like the great salt monster Saltinatorus had pissed into my cup and bade me to drink it. I spit the water on the floor, without even remotely feeling bad, and decided to head out of my hotel room in one of the most dangerous cities in America in search of clean drinking water. I walk out of the hotel room and to my surprise, there was a bodega right next to it . . . . score. After wandering through the various homeless guys lying on the street, one of them stopped me and asked for a quarter. I humbly obliged. He was the first one to ask me since I got there, and I have this thing about helping out the first homeless person who asks on a trip. It ensures a good trip, I swear. Dude then asked me if I would buy him a 40oz bottle of his favorite malt liquor, to which I responded while standing in front of the bodega "Why don't you go buy it yourself." He responded with "Them motherfuckers won't let me in the store no more!" I decided, what the fuck. I hook the dude up with a 40oz of Colt, get myself a big ass bottle of water, and run back to my hotel room to sleep the night away. When I got up to leave the next day, I had a complimentary cup of tea, and waited on valet to bring my car to me. While waiting, some dude walked up to me and said "Hey man, you got a good heart. Read Psalm 29, it will do you good." I looked puzzled and he walked off. What the hell . . . For those of you wondering it says a lot about how the LORD is really great and it has this startling bit of info: "He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox." Well, awesome.
I woke up the next day and headed to my Dad's for our 8th annual "Let's See How Long Bob Can Stand Hanging Out Here Before He Is Offended And Leaves - CHRISTmas!" I got there and ate food, which was really bad, and hung around with my stepmother, who is a really sweet lady, and the 7 kids who were there. My dad adopted these 3 albino children from her son because he liked to make crank in his bathtub and sell it out of the house and child protective services seemed to have a problem with that. So 3 albinos, their amazingly fabulous white trash parents, 4 other kids from somewhere, my stepmother, me, and a partridge in a pear tree. Dad was driving some other kid home with my brother and got back after I got there. My brother immediately left like a dick and I was stranded. We shot the shit about music for a while then he started to talk about the christian radio station he loves. Strike one. I mean, this is the man who owned not one but TWO Grim Reaper records, wore a black sabbath t-shirt he got at a show in 77 until he was 40, and had a satanic bible written by Anton Levay. Now he likes to rock out to the Newsboys or some shit. Yikes. Anyways, strike one. Conversation moves on to my life and I said I had been good, I talked about how I had been a little depressed lately, and so on. He then, without apprantly listening to me at all, asked if I had seen Lion=Jesus, or the Chronic-WHAT-cles of Narnia. I said no. He then told me that it was powerful and that the Lion was Jesus. Strike two. The Colts game was on tv and I watched it for a bit until one player came on the screen and my Dad nudged me to inform me that "He goes to our church." That was the deal breaker! I'm christian now because some no name guy on special teams goes to my Dad's church! Strike-fuck-three. I'm out.
I went home and found my house was a mess of course, because thats how I left it. It was good to be home. I spent ecks-mas on my couch and I ate some egg salad sandwiches, it was pretty depressing but all in all not too bad! Oddly enough it ranks up there with all the past holidays I have spent with people pretty good. But since a lot of those end up sucking anyways it was nice to be able to have a shitty holiday where the only person I could blame was myself. However, Jason did brighten my holiday cheer when he got home and told be about how he had to help his grandfather use the bathroom and how his grandfather told him how badly he wanted to die while he helped him. Hahaha, now that's some comedy.
No ghetto ecksmas this year apparently since no one seemed to show any interest at all. I'm pretty pissed about it but I'm too apathetic to even do anything about it. We all know why, it just sucks that I can't get together with ALL my friends and celebrate the birth of the flying spaghetti jesus jew kwanzaa monster. Oh, and I bought one gift this year, I also received one gift. Oddly enough it was the same gift, a nintendo DS. Score. Wait, my dad got me a tin of cookies, which I don't even eat. I also bought some stuff with the intention of giving them to a friend, but have not seen the person. I may end up keeping them.
I'm off to Granny's to extend my holiday dogshity suckfest. I hope everyone I know has a good new year and is safe. I'll be at work, f'reals.
He chose to respond with a comment that pretty much sums up why we don't get along:
"That's because the niggers live on the other side of the river."
I, being the calm person I am, immediately responded with:
"Shut the fuck up you fucking retard."
Yeah, I pulled the double fuck on him and called him a retard. Mom stood up as I made my way out of the room, but I didn't notice he had also stood up. He walked around the house to cut me off and ended up in my face saying something in the area of "You need to learn to show a little respect. This is MY house." I should say that this guy is by no means big. Not at all. He's also about 4 inches shorter than me and pretty obese. So without a shadow of a doubt I can honestly say that I could, with no real effort; knock him on his ass and fucking eat his face off. I can think of only one reason why I didn't. It's my mom. I just threw up my hands, went downstairs, and packed. I left the next morning after telling my mom how proud I was that she met someone who really loved her and that I hope she's happy. I also informed Sir Genius of Fuckheadshire that next time I wouldn't be so polite since, I doubt I'll be staying there again any time in the future.
So I decided to drive down to DC, the Washington one, and hang out. Let me say that I had a great time. I fucking loved the Smithsonian. I saw the president get on a helicopter. I ate at a fucking super-posh restaurant where I had the best steak I have ever eaten and 3 glasses of an amazing merlot, and paid over $100 including tip. I froze my nuts off. I walked into the holocaust museum and began walking through only to find a bunch of people walking around in large groups crying like . . . well like people who were witnessing something truly sad. I left. I mean I really wanted to see that place, but something in me said "Hey, let's try and stay perky and have a good time" so I left. I saw all the sites, had a nice dinner as I said, and headed back to the hotel room. Since it's me, of course this doesnt end here. I got into my room and had a glass of water which tasted like the great salt monster Saltinatorus had pissed into my cup and bade me to drink it. I spit the water on the floor, without even remotely feeling bad, and decided to head out of my hotel room in one of the most dangerous cities in America in search of clean drinking water. I walk out of the hotel room and to my surprise, there was a bodega right next to it . . . . score. After wandering through the various homeless guys lying on the street, one of them stopped me and asked for a quarter. I humbly obliged. He was the first one to ask me since I got there, and I have this thing about helping out the first homeless person who asks on a trip. It ensures a good trip, I swear. Dude then asked me if I would buy him a 40oz bottle of his favorite malt liquor, to which I responded while standing in front of the bodega "Why don't you go buy it yourself." He responded with "Them motherfuckers won't let me in the store no more!" I decided, what the fuck. I hook the dude up with a 40oz of Colt, get myself a big ass bottle of water, and run back to my hotel room to sleep the night away. When I got up to leave the next day, I had a complimentary cup of tea, and waited on valet to bring my car to me. While waiting, some dude walked up to me and said "Hey man, you got a good heart. Read Psalm 29, it will do you good." I looked puzzled and he walked off. What the hell . . . For those of you wondering it says a lot about how the LORD is really great and it has this startling bit of info: "He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox." Well, awesome.
I woke up the next day and headed to my Dad's for our 8th annual "Let's See How Long Bob Can Stand Hanging Out Here Before He Is Offended And Leaves - CHRISTmas!" I got there and ate food, which was really bad, and hung around with my stepmother, who is a really sweet lady, and the 7 kids who were there. My dad adopted these 3 albino children from her son because he liked to make crank in his bathtub and sell it out of the house and child protective services seemed to have a problem with that. So 3 albinos, their amazingly fabulous white trash parents, 4 other kids from somewhere, my stepmother, me, and a partridge in a pear tree. Dad was driving some other kid home with my brother and got back after I got there. My brother immediately left like a dick and I was stranded. We shot the shit about music for a while then he started to talk about the christian radio station he loves. Strike one. I mean, this is the man who owned not one but TWO Grim Reaper records, wore a black sabbath t-shirt he got at a show in 77 until he was 40, and had a satanic bible written by Anton Levay. Now he likes to rock out to the Newsboys or some shit. Yikes. Anyways, strike one. Conversation moves on to my life and I said I had been good, I talked about how I had been a little depressed lately, and so on. He then, without apprantly listening to me at all, asked if I had seen Lion=Jesus, or the Chronic-WHAT-cles of Narnia. I said no. He then told me that it was powerful and that the Lion was Jesus. Strike two. The Colts game was on tv and I watched it for a bit until one player came on the screen and my Dad nudged me to inform me that "He goes to our church." That was the deal breaker! I'm christian now because some no name guy on special teams goes to my Dad's church! Strike-fuck-three. I'm out.
I went home and found my house was a mess of course, because thats how I left it. It was good to be home. I spent ecks-mas on my couch and I ate some egg salad sandwiches, it was pretty depressing but all in all not too bad! Oddly enough it ranks up there with all the past holidays I have spent with people pretty good. But since a lot of those end up sucking anyways it was nice to be able to have a shitty holiday where the only person I could blame was myself. However, Jason did brighten my holiday cheer when he got home and told be about how he had to help his grandfather use the bathroom and how his grandfather told him how badly he wanted to die while he helped him. Hahaha, now that's some comedy.
No ghetto ecksmas this year apparently since no one seemed to show any interest at all. I'm pretty pissed about it but I'm too apathetic to even do anything about it. We all know why, it just sucks that I can't get together with ALL my friends and celebrate the birth of the flying spaghetti jesus jew kwanzaa monster. Oh, and I bought one gift this year, I also received one gift. Oddly enough it was the same gift, a nintendo DS. Score. Wait, my dad got me a tin of cookies, which I don't even eat. I also bought some stuff with the intention of giving them to a friend, but have not seen the person. I may end up keeping them.
I'm off to Granny's to extend my holiday dogshity suckfest. I hope everyone I know has a good new year and is safe. I'll be at work, f'reals.