Never, EVER, Again...
Why does this kind of thing HAVE to happen to me? Like honestly, it was such a nice night.
Adam, Ziemba, and I went to this place called Hook and Ladder last night. Simple bar. It's a great place for the fact that if one desires over the course of the night, during his drinking, he/she could have the choice of playing darts, pool, and even arcade game classics ie: Ms. Pac-Man (Hell Yeah) and Gradius too! I started, surprising even myself, with a Jack and Coke to get the evening started. So much for that "no-drinking" thing I was going for. But it was good. I'm a mini-me of Angelo, Adam hinted. Not many of you may know as to what I'm referring to, but it's irrelevant. All in all it was a nice night. We met the owner who's an scary and utterly amazing clone of Ozzy Osborne, pre-MTV. From head to toe, I couldn't conceive the idea of, well, why. And fortune have it, his name was also...Ozzy. No shit. But I was truly waiting to see if he'd at one point decide for show take out a bat and bite the head off. That's just me I guess. I was also kicking ass in pool, and I did the best I ever have so far in Bar Darts. I was really hot all night...And it was kinda warm in the bar too. Haha. But it was thus too good to last. A big, muscular, steroided out black man, by the name of Ali, comes in and joins the circle of Adam, Ziemba, Ozzy, and I and kinda just lets himself in on our convo, saying what a good guy Black Sabbath's frontman was. Believable. He seemed a lil intoxicated to begin with. He downed 2 Bacardi and Colas (Do it, do it...haha) and he was flexing so damn much I thought I was gonna cramp up soon. But at one point, he decides to step up to me. Mind you, he's a good, I'd say 6'4" and I'm at a gi-normous...5'6"...FINE, 5'5". I hate you. Anyway, he proceeds to flex more and more in front of me, crack his neck, and stare me down. I, being light-hearted-given the atmosphere, decided to do the same back. I flexed my pecs, though I was wearing a black shirt, so you couldn't tell anyway, and I cracked my neck and stared right back at him. The more I looked in his eyes, the more I thought I could be gay and might just fall in love with him. But I know if I cracked that joke, he woulda trounced my behind. But he came in saying that he could take on me and my boys all at the same time. Cocky, ain't he? Then he starts claiming how he did all this shit in the military. Well, just to warn you, he told me all of this maybe 1...2...1273287638172637816312318972 times last night. THE SAME SHIT...Over and over. I could give you his whole lifestory cuz I heard it so many damn times. Sure enough, as soon as he caught wind that I joined the military and are enlisted for the moment, all bets were off. He told me about how he was molested when he was 9, then he murdered a 42 year old man who was trying to rape his girlfriend at the young age of 14. Then while in juvi (that'd be juvenile hall for all you good boys and girls), he murdered again. He was quite the killer at 14 when he's just learning how to use his own penis, but we'll give him the benefit of the doubt. He then told me instead of jail they sent him to the army. Now I'm not sure...He's 34...He just finished his 20 year career 3 months ago...which means he had to be born in '71...He was sentenced in '85...now I don't know but I may be going out on a limb here, and please correct me if I'm wrong, I don't think they accept 14 year olds in the military. Even at that, give some time for juvi, that he "was only in for a year", I still don't think the military would allow a 15 year old into the service. Anywayyyyy. He allegedly beat the shit out of his drill sgt. and was put into the stockade for 9 months, and then after transferred rank and position to the marines. And it was there that he went so far as to becoming a platoon leader of 500 men. Ok, platoons aren't that damn big, Mr. I'm gonna-I swear to my moms-Kick your ass. It'd be more like a company leader but he was being so damn ignorant and drunk to realize how much of an ass he was. He killed 216 men in total, he lost 132 men out of 500 out of his "platoon" and he was presented with a medal of honor, mind you, one of THE MOST distinguished awards a person could receive, but he turned it down and told the presenting general to chop the medal up into 132 pieces for all the lives of his men. Dramatic...really it was. I heard Susan Lucci in the background screaming for the Emmy he was gonna get for this story. The bar soon closed and Ziemba had left so it was Adam and I left. We got stuck with him. What shit is that? He kept yelling in my face and spitting when he talked that it was damn right irritating. Not like I could do much physically, so I messed with his head and mannerisms a lil bit and tried to get the better of him. It indoubtedly worked. But he kept reiterating every thing all over again. Then on top of this, he recreated a scene from a time he was shooting tons of women and children and was told that he kills people well, and he kinda sat down in the middle of the sidewalk and did a very well performed, "Yeah, sir...I guess I kill people well" in a manner worthy of an Oscar. He almost was ready to knock some Middle-Eastern guy working in a deli, saying of how he fought for him in Iraq and that he wants some respect. Oh wow. He was just going on and on and on about insolent shit. It was severly irritating and he continually kept getting in my face and all I could do was get in his mind. Which prolly wasn't the best of ideas considering how insane in the membrane he was already. Ya know, it wasn't even him being drunk, I have the good idea that he's like that most of the time anyway. He seemed a lil dillusional with what may or could've happened and has greatly been influenced by movies about war, seemingly ones about Vietnam, such as Platoon and that one with Michael J. Fox. I wish I could remember it...dammit! But it was a lotta dramatic effect disposed by these movies that pushed a lot of his story. Like the killing people well thing was in the one with Mikey Fox. All in all he was saying how no one ever really stands up to him, but he was shocked that I did. He told me I looked "Death" in the face and talked back to it. There was a lot of yelling, like really getting in each other's faces, between me and him throughout the two hours Adam and I accompanied him throughout the Murray Hill area to help him find a destination home. He took my cell phone number (Yeah, I gave it to him but it was more out of concern for him than his primarily imposed concern for me.), gave me a hug and a handshake, and then Adam and I were finally able to ESCAPE. God, 2 hours of his stupidity and downright CWWAZINESS! I hope he got wherever he needed to go alright. No more Hook and Ladder! Ever! I gotta go see if I can land this job at GNC and I then I can look forward to going to the beach on Sunday, HOLLA! Ladies, it's almost 90% sure it's gonna be Jones beach-site 7 so if you gotta ride and you gotta bikini-Come...and if you want you can join us at the beach too. ;)
Now for your joke (Yes, they're back.):
Four guys are flying to Japan in their own jet. One's a Texan, one's a Mexican, one's a French man, and the other is an Englishman. A radio transmission says to throw out all the luggage because there is too much weight to land. So they do. Then they get another transmission that says three will have to jump out because there is still too much weight. So the French man goes to the door and says. "Viva Le France!" and he jumps. The Englishman says, "God Save the Queen" and he jumps out. So the Texan and the Mexican go to the door. They look at each other, and the Texan grabs the Mexican and throws him out the door and says, "Remember the Alamo, Bitch!"
C-Rza
Adam, Ziemba, and I went to this place called Hook and Ladder last night. Simple bar. It's a great place for the fact that if one desires over the course of the night, during his drinking, he/she could have the choice of playing darts, pool, and even arcade game classics ie: Ms. Pac-Man (Hell Yeah) and Gradius too! I started, surprising even myself, with a Jack and Coke to get the evening started. So much for that "no-drinking" thing I was going for. But it was good. I'm a mini-me of Angelo, Adam hinted. Not many of you may know as to what I'm referring to, but it's irrelevant. All in all it was a nice night. We met the owner who's an scary and utterly amazing clone of Ozzy Osborne, pre-MTV. From head to toe, I couldn't conceive the idea of, well, why. And fortune have it, his name was also...Ozzy. No shit. But I was truly waiting to see if he'd at one point decide for show take out a bat and bite the head off. That's just me I guess. I was also kicking ass in pool, and I did the best I ever have so far in Bar Darts. I was really hot all night...And it was kinda warm in the bar too. Haha. But it was thus too good to last. A big, muscular, steroided out black man, by the name of Ali, comes in and joins the circle of Adam, Ziemba, Ozzy, and I and kinda just lets himself in on our convo, saying what a good guy Black Sabbath's frontman was. Believable. He seemed a lil intoxicated to begin with. He downed 2 Bacardi and Colas (Do it, do it...haha) and he was flexing so damn much I thought I was gonna cramp up soon. But at one point, he decides to step up to me. Mind you, he's a good, I'd say 6'4" and I'm at a gi-normous...5'6"...FINE, 5'5". I hate you. Anyway, he proceeds to flex more and more in front of me, crack his neck, and stare me down. I, being light-hearted-given the atmosphere, decided to do the same back. I flexed my pecs, though I was wearing a black shirt, so you couldn't tell anyway, and I cracked my neck and stared right back at him. The more I looked in his eyes, the more I thought I could be gay and might just fall in love with him. But I know if I cracked that joke, he woulda trounced my behind. But he came in saying that he could take on me and my boys all at the same time. Cocky, ain't he? Then he starts claiming how he did all this shit in the military. Well, just to warn you, he told me all of this maybe 1...2...1273287638172637816312318972 times last night. THE SAME SHIT...Over and over. I could give you his whole lifestory cuz I heard it so many damn times. Sure enough, as soon as he caught wind that I joined the military and are enlisted for the moment, all bets were off. He told me about how he was molested when he was 9, then he murdered a 42 year old man who was trying to rape his girlfriend at the young age of 14. Then while in juvi (that'd be juvenile hall for all you good boys and girls), he murdered again. He was quite the killer at 14 when he's just learning how to use his own penis, but we'll give him the benefit of the doubt. He then told me instead of jail they sent him to the army. Now I'm not sure...He's 34...He just finished his 20 year career 3 months ago...which means he had to be born in '71...He was sentenced in '85...now I don't know but I may be going out on a limb here, and please correct me if I'm wrong, I don't think they accept 14 year olds in the military. Even at that, give some time for juvi, that he "was only in for a year", I still don't think the military would allow a 15 year old into the service. Anywayyyyy. He allegedly beat the shit out of his drill sgt. and was put into the stockade for 9 months, and then after transferred rank and position to the marines. And it was there that he went so far as to becoming a platoon leader of 500 men. Ok, platoons aren't that damn big, Mr. I'm gonna-I swear to my moms-Kick your ass. It'd be more like a company leader but he was being so damn ignorant and drunk to realize how much of an ass he was. He killed 216 men in total, he lost 132 men out of 500 out of his "platoon" and he was presented with a medal of honor, mind you, one of THE MOST distinguished awards a person could receive, but he turned it down and told the presenting general to chop the medal up into 132 pieces for all the lives of his men. Dramatic...really it was. I heard Susan Lucci in the background screaming for the Emmy he was gonna get for this story. The bar soon closed and Ziemba had left so it was Adam and I left. We got stuck with him. What shit is that? He kept yelling in my face and spitting when he talked that it was damn right irritating. Not like I could do much physically, so I messed with his head and mannerisms a lil bit and tried to get the better of him. It indoubtedly worked. But he kept reiterating every thing all over again. Then on top of this, he recreated a scene from a time he was shooting tons of women and children and was told that he kills people well, and he kinda sat down in the middle of the sidewalk and did a very well performed, "Yeah, sir...I guess I kill people well" in a manner worthy of an Oscar. He almost was ready to knock some Middle-Eastern guy working in a deli, saying of how he fought for him in Iraq and that he wants some respect. Oh wow. He was just going on and on and on about insolent shit. It was severly irritating and he continually kept getting in my face and all I could do was get in his mind. Which prolly wasn't the best of ideas considering how insane in the membrane he was already. Ya know, it wasn't even him being drunk, I have the good idea that he's like that most of the time anyway. He seemed a lil dillusional with what may or could've happened and has greatly been influenced by movies about war, seemingly ones about Vietnam, such as Platoon and that one with Michael J. Fox. I wish I could remember it...dammit! But it was a lotta dramatic effect disposed by these movies that pushed a lot of his story. Like the killing people well thing was in the one with Mikey Fox. All in all he was saying how no one ever really stands up to him, but he was shocked that I did. He told me I looked "Death" in the face and talked back to it. There was a lot of yelling, like really getting in each other's faces, between me and him throughout the two hours Adam and I accompanied him throughout the Murray Hill area to help him find a destination home. He took my cell phone number (Yeah, I gave it to him but it was more out of concern for him than his primarily imposed concern for me.), gave me a hug and a handshake, and then Adam and I were finally able to ESCAPE. God, 2 hours of his stupidity and downright CWWAZINESS! I hope he got wherever he needed to go alright. No more Hook and Ladder! Ever! I gotta go see if I can land this job at GNC and I then I can look forward to going to the beach on Sunday, HOLLA! Ladies, it's almost 90% sure it's gonna be Jones beach-site 7 so if you gotta ride and you gotta bikini-Come...and if you want you can join us at the beach too. ;)
Now for your joke (Yes, they're back.):
Four guys are flying to Japan in their own jet. One's a Texan, one's a Mexican, one's a French man, and the other is an Englishman. A radio transmission says to throw out all the luggage because there is too much weight to land. So they do. Then they get another transmission that says three will have to jump out because there is still too much weight. So the French man goes to the door and says. "Viva Le France!" and he jumps. The Englishman says, "God Save the Queen" and he jumps out. So the Texan and the Mexican go to the door. They look at each other, and the Texan grabs the Mexican and throws him out the door and says, "Remember the Alamo, Bitch!"
C-Rza