Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Tales of a messed up existance Part I

I was hanging out at this club in the Times Square area. The girl/guy ratio was absurd approximately 10:1. Most of the women at the party were gorgeous, thin, successful and slightly pretentious. The ratio however emboldened me to do things I would never have done in normal circumstances. I would walk up to some females, look them in the eye and say `why don`t you buy me a drink`. Others I would introduce myself to and tell them right away I had money for a cab, a queen size bed at home and 100 mil of Viagra. I didn`t care about rejection that night, as the lack of males in the room created an environment ridiculously in my favor.

A few hours and many drinks (snuck in) later I left the club to face my queen size bed alone. The best I could look forward to was an hour long, Viagra induced masturbation session to some brand new porn obtained from one of the last remaining adult bookstores around the forty deuce. Before Disney,Applebees and Hello Kitty, 42nd street was a haven for raunchy uncensored sex, the center of the world for debauchery be it live, in print or on the big screen. My 17th year saw most of my McDonalds wages spent on lap dances from a 24 year old Miami transplant with an amazing body and a killer coke habit in one of the seedier places around the Ave. Years later I`m stumbling around the area bumping into Manhattan hipsters, Midwestern family tourists and the occasional hooker who at this point has become something of a relic in the neighborhood.

`Hey baby..wanna date` she says to me her fake chinchilla draped over a skin tight hot pink one piece. She shuffles me into a doorway on Eighth Avenue while aggressively propositioning me.

`No..I`m good` I reply as I feel her hands move up my thigh. She starts to fondle my intoxicated member which passed out three drinks and four dance floor rejections ago.

`Come on baby..You fine..Let me get some of this`

Undeterred I again decline and pull myself away from this prostitutes spell. I am focused on porn and thinking about `Little White Chicks and Monster Black D*cks #13.` Leaving her to her own devices I find my way to the video store, locate my purchase and prepare to pay for it and jump on the train. That`s when I realize that my money was gone. Whenever you loose money, it usually takes a few minutes for the realization to actually click after you search your pockets multiple times. This time however, I immediately knew that the hooker who was feeling me up in the corner was merely distracting me so that she could pick my pockets.

Bubbling over with anger, I raced down the street to find her as I started to sober up. Spotting her on the corner I went up to her and asked for my money back. I told her I knew what she did, and all I wanted was what she took from me with no hard feelings. She denied taking anything, and barely admitted that the above exchange took place. I was at a loss. School teaches you many things but not important life lessons like how to successfully confront a prostitute. Angry and still drunk I wanted my money back, but short of physically assaulting her I didn`t know what to do. That`s when I saw her approach another potential trick/mark out the corner of my eye.

Springing into action I walked over to them and screamed out to the guy `watch out..shes a pickpocket and a theif..stay away from her!` The guy bent a hasty retreat while checking for his wallet. Figuring that if I couldn`t get my funds back I would at least make sure that she didn`t make any money for the rest of the night. I spent the next few hours following her up and down 42nd street yelling out to all her potential customers what they were dealing with. After a few hours of this harassment, she eventually gave up working for the night, jumped in a cab and went her way. Feeling vindicated, I was able to buy my porn and smile all the way home.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Dunk this

Antonio Davis was suspended for five games for going into the stands during a game, and Peter Vecsey is upset about this. Peter Vecsey who gets his paychecks signed by the NY Post, an unabashedly biased cheerleader for the neo conservative movement, has the nerve to attempt to speak with some kind of moral authority.
Everyone I know from the right and left complains about the media. It`s either permeated with leftist elitism, financed by a Pro-Zionist cabel or supporting the Military Industrial Complex. When however are we going to take sports journalists to task for their unqualified blow-hard opinions and the shameless hyping of bullsh*t stories. Not only did we have to watch the replay over and over of Antonio Davis jumping in the stands, but we have to listen to guys who never actually played an iota of professional sports except for perhaps that one game of T-Ball back when they were 3. Who is Peter Vecsey to say `Did Antonio consider anybody but himself and his family before taking his misguided tour?` Who was he supposed to consider when witnessing what may be someone getting physical with your wife? He obviously knew the consequences of his actions but did what he thought was necessary in this particular situation. Right or wrong, he is a man first and a basketball player second. I`m sure if I slapped around Peters wife at the offices of the NYpost, he would have no qualms about jumping over a desk to confront me, assuming he actually possesses the nuts to do so.
What kills me is people still think blacks are being sensitive when we complain about how racism is still prevalent in society. Theres this attitude amongst the sports writers, the fans and the NBA that these guys are nothing but million dollar niggers who should jump and do their bidding because they are getting paid to play basketball. It`s a feeling that percolates below every argument and complaint about the NBA; `they should dress up`, `they should raise the league age`, `we`re not going to tolerate them jumping in the stands` Meanwhile you have golf and tennis kids turning pro at 16, the 04 RedSox being celebrated for being bums and Olympic skiers bragging about competing drunk.
It seems that when you give a kid out the ghetto a million dollar contract it gives everyone involved a strange sense of entitlement over that person. And while we are attacking the players relentlessly, maybe some more attention should be turned towards the behavior of these fans. Granted the league does take action when a fan steps over the line, but maybe guys like Peter Vescey should devote a few articles on them instead of the million dollar niggers that keep him employed.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Great interview with Patton Oswalt

Heres my favorite quote. Its funny because I was in a dinner over the weekend telling someone the same thing.

`I`m not doing stand-up so that I can start doing movies or TV shows and never have to do stand-up anymore. I do movies and TV shows and write things so that I have more free time to do stand-up. Or I`m trying to increase my exposure so that I can do more stand-up. Everything is so that I can do stand-up; it`s not the other way around. And I know a lot of people that are doing stand-up so that they can get out of stand-up.

If you want to be an actor, go be an actor. Quit taking up stage time.` End quote.

The rest of the article is linked on