Don't get drunk and fuck with giraffes

I assumed this was common knowledge, but I guess the Lituanian school systems are worse than Texas'.

Drunk students learn lesson from peeved giraffe

Hello again friends...

Welcome back…

Hello friends, it’s me again, gonna try and slide one by you once more.

Yes, it’s true. I’m still alive and kickin’ and I haven’t written anything here in many, many months. Combination of things really. Most notably my own disinterest in what I had to say. And if I’m not interested, I doubt anyone else is. However, due to recent demand I’ve decided to come storming back.

I won’t go back too far or into too much detail as to what’s been happening since I ate that McRib, mostly ‘cause I don’t remember myself. Things have a way of blurring together over the years. Not due to selective memory, excessive consumption or carelessness but mostly because they just do. Time heals all wounds and hindsight is always 20/20 and this is certainly true in my case. Bad times I’ve had either dealing with myself or in dealing with others in my life seem to not seem all that bad anymore. Things that once were once major roadblocks now appear to have just been bumps in the road.

That said, you also can’t go back. What’s done is done and you can’t erase the past; but you can certainly make amends or at least continue moving forward.

The last few months have probably been the most hectic in recent memory. Since late February I’ve touched dirt in 8 states and two countries and aged about ten years. In that time I’ve gotten a chance to catch up with every person I’ve been close to in the last 15 years. Almost…Like I said, you can’t always go back.

Now don’t get me wrong, most of these people I’ve stayed in pretty much constant contact with so it wasn’t some grand re-discovery; just a bunch of it in a short time. It’s been interesting to see all of these people that span my life from the age of thirteen until now and to see in what ways we’ve all changed; and how in many ways that nothing’s changed at all. From a personal standpoint it’s been odd to still be compared with the person I’d hoped I no longer was. In many ways that guy still exists, and reputations are certainly well-earned. People still associate you with that, and that’s fine. The hope however, is that the changes and growth are evident as well. One’s personality and perspective changes over time hopefully, and I certainly hope I’m no exception. Nonetheless, the same people who liked me then seem to still be my friends today, so I guess I’ve been going in the right direction. My only hope is that the person I am in my own mind is evident to those who’s opinions matter to me.

So what’s next? After this 60-day bender I’m in serious need of some reconstruction. I need to make some attempt at undoing the damage done by this recent tour-de-force. I’m going to contact my old buddy Kieth Richards about that blood transfusion thing.

That’s not to say I’m complexly going on the shelf. Old habits die hard and I’m still a sucker for temptation, but I’m finally going to have the time to try earnestly at countering some of that.

I’m going to make the effort to write here more. Those of you who know me know that my creative energy is fueled by attention as well as restlessness. So, post some comments send me emails (monkeydrunknet@gmail.com) and let me know you’re reading and that you think I’m awesome. Forward it to your friends and say things like “check this dude out. I went to high school with him and now he’s this drunk loser in Texas who talks about stupid shit” Or “I don’t know who this is, but I want my hot, 20-year old daughter to go to his house and party”

If you don’t think I’m awesome that’s cool too; in most cases I probably agree. Whatever the case I am prone to laziness and/or lack of focus. If people seem to be reading than I’ll do my best to keep putting out the sweet goodness.

Peace on yourselves

McRib is Back

Hey everybody…been a while since I put anything up here. Well, after literally twelve requests from the loyal readership, I’ve decided to let it rip once again. Its an important time, the end of an era is upon us. So it’s with a beer by my side and a heavy heart that I come to bid fond adieu to The McRib.

My attention was first brought to the end of McRib’s run by a billboard somewhere along I-35 last Friday around lunch time. “McRib is Back” it proclaimed valiantly as if it was a heavyweight fighter coming out of retirement, or a Jani Lane comeback tour fresh off that VH1 weight-loss show. Only below it was a tagline that struck odd for something so triumphant; “The Farewell Tour”.

I’m not sure why McRib is going away. If McDonald’s can ship a few units every so often, why not keep it around for nostalgia’s sake? I guess there’s a nation of die-hard McRib supporters out there who would loyally shell out their $3.99 every few months to enjoy McRib’s magnificence. What got me thinking though, was why make such a big deal about the last go-round? Obviously they knew that this last-chance campaign would get some new takers and rekindle some old flames; but if McRib inspired this type of reaction why had I never even had one?

Since I didn’t have any lunch plans, I figured I owed it to myself and to the McRib to give it a shot for old times sake. I was understandably a little nervous before sitting down to eat. The McRib is basically a meat pie. It seems to be made up of ground up pieces of some kind of meat. At first I kind of thought it would just be an oddly shaped hamburger slathered in cheap barbeque sauce., but McRib’s taste and texture is decidedly more pork-ish. Slathered in cheap, sugary barbeque sauce. I should also mention that the meat pie has been molded as if to appear that it has rib-bones in the middle of it. I don’t like bones in my sandwiches so it was a good thing it only appeared this way. I ordered my McRib without onions.

I suppose I should go on and give some flowery description of my McRib experience. How its pork-y goodness and fascinating form satisfied to the last sweet bite. How the sauce was straight from the kitchen of America’s best small town barbeque joints. How the pickles were also delicious. That would probably come off as sarcastic and self-indulgent. So I’ll just say it was okay. Not great, but all right.

It tasted like I’d expect. Cheap pork byproducts, ground up and molded to look like some short ribs, dunked in cheap barbeque sauce and put on a bun and served up in a cardboard box at McDonald’s. I had French fries too. I really didn’t expect anything more out of it than that. A fake barbeque sandwich from McDonald’s; why would it be anything else. Would I eat it again? Probably not. My life probably won’t change much without it; but there are probably some people who will miss it.

I guess if you ate at McDonald’s every day, or at least with a frequency that the menu begins to get repetitive and boring, I suppose McRib could provide a tasty diversion from the norm. The Simpson’s had an episode a few years ago that dealt with a sandwich from Krusty Burger that had a cult-like following. Loyal fans did something I can’t remember right now in order to get their hands on it one last time before it went away. As I remember it was a really big deal for these people and I guess there’s people really like this; all horny for the McRib. That’s cool.

I just did a Google search for McRib. I didn’t go to any of the sites that came up but I did at least read the first two or three titles. It seems like there really are people who are going to be sad to see McRib go. I feel bad for those people. The Eatzi’s by my house recently stopped offering honey mustard on their sandwiches and I haven’t been back since; so I understand.

In conclusion, I’m glad I tried a McRib before it was too late. I doubt it’s really the type of thing I’ll tell my grandkids about someday though. They’d probably rather hear about seeing the Grateful Dead’s last tour, or Pearl Jam in their prime or being at the Super Bowl for Janet Jackson’s nipple. But if they ask about McRib I’ll be honest with them about my experiences. I have nothing to hide. I’m living the good life.

My NFL preview

Well, with week one on the books, and since it’s all anyone seems to be talking about, I’ll chime in on the new NFL season. Actually, I have absolutely nothing to say on this topic. You see I love sports, but I have little to no desire to spend time studying them. I watch Sportscenter at least once a day, re-fresh ESPN.com about a million times each day I spend in my office, listen to sports radio while I’m out avoiding my office but that’s it. I’m a headline guy. I know the big stories that can be tied up neatly so that they only take up about five minutes at a time. Beyond that I really don’t care. I thought it was awesome that Terrell Owens was doing sit-ups in his driveway during a press conference to talk about how much he hated his quarterback. That’s it though, I don’t really care why they don’t like each other; knowing that they don’t is enough.

Sports provide endless amounts of entertainment and only part of it comes from the field. I love the NBA, but I haven’t watched a full game in years. I’d much rather read stories about players getting busted for fighting pit bulls or carrying weed and guns on airplanes. I don’t care to watch a Heat game on TV, but I’ll sit through any Shaq interview, particularly if involves a camera crew following him around for any length of time. That guy’s fucking hilarious.

The thing with the NFL, is that its gotten to the point where just about every fan, and there’s billions of them, are the complete opposite. The internet, the NFL Network, DirecTV, 24 hours of ESPN on a bunch of channels; they all allow total access to any and every team and player in the league. And because of the fantasy league stuff, all of these outlets have completely exploded in popularity and relevance. As you could probably guess I’ve never participated in fantasy sports of any kind.

It’s not that I just don’t like the fantasy thing, I just don’t care enough to put in that kind of time. Frankly, I think most people who do are fucking geeks, and that includes most of my friends. It’s one thing to be in a league, take it somewhat seriously as far as trying to win goes; but its another thing completely to be one of the losers at a bar on Sunday with two newspapers, six magazines, Internet print-outs and copies of Bill Simmons’ last five columns. Last week at a bar in Dallas I even saw three guys with lap-tops. That’s fucked up. I was with people who are in fantasy leagues and they thought that was fucked up. These guys are probably really into Texas Hold'em all of a sudden, too.

One argument I always hear is that it’s just a way to make every game interesting, because you’re either rooting for or against certain players or defenses. The wall-to wall coverage and subsequent popularity of it all makes it inescapable and I get tired of hearing about it constantly. If that works for you, knock yourself out. It just doesn’t work for me. It seems like the whole deal has been kind of created and over-saturated by companies looking to expand interest in programming that’s relatively easy to produce. Not much different than reality television actually, which I love. Go figure.

Don’t get me wrong, I really don’t care about the fantasy thing either way. Its just the wall to wall over-analysis that always seems to go hand in hand. What ever happened to just watching a game and enjoying the sport for what it is? Maybe it's a way to get more involved with a sport you love, maybe it's a way to justify getting out of the house and away form the wife for a few hours, maybe its a gambling problem: I don't know. It just require too much attention and diligence for me.

Which brings me to my second, possibly misguided, closed-minded opinion. I’m sick of the Dallas fucking Cowboys.

I used to be a huge Cowboy fan. I loved Troy Aikman, Emmett Smith, and especially Michael Irvin. In fact, #88 is still one of my favorite people in the world. He wore a purple, mink coat to court for his cocaine trial; that’s what’s right about sports. That’s what I like. About the time, Jerry Jones started fucking with the team, and turning it into a soap opera, I checked-out. Three years ago I hopped on board with the Houston Texans at the ground floor and now we're headed straight to the top.

If you’re not a Cowboy fan, living in Dallas during the football season sucks. I spent 10 years in DC and that town is crazy about the Redskins, but believe me when I say it is ten times more so with the Cowboys. Nothing can happen without it being a breaking story. Every Bill Parcels press conference is carried on TV and radio, and nothing ever comes out if it except maybe a racial slur. The guy doesn't asshole who hates the media, doesn’t give interviews, and keeps all matters regarding his team very closely guarded. Thankfully the team’s owner is an ego-maniacal media whore who will gladly spin any issue however he thinks it will play best with the public. I kind of like that about him because I like people who are blatantly full of shit, and throw that in the face of an ignorant public.

Jerry and the local media feed off the whole America's team thing and it becomes a completely uncontrollable, all-access, overblown love-fest. I don't even think they're America's team at this point, that distinction has rightfully been passed to the Texas Longhorns. Anymore, fans don't rely on two weekly nationally televised games for their football fix. They can see any team, any time anywhere in the country; so there are no longer teams that gain popularity based solely on big media coverage or a lucrative TV deal. The Cowboy's may be Mexico's team though. The Mexican's love the Cowboys. I don't know why but they do.

So after beating San Diego, Sunday you can imagine the all-out fuck fest that’s been going on here in town? You’d think they cancelled the season and handed over the Lombardi Trophy. Funniest thing about it is the fans here in Dallas are very used to this criticism. They’ve been told for years how overboard they go over the slightest success, but it continues nonetheless and no one does anything to stop it. So what happens? Every sportscaster’s commentary, every column, every dumbass caller to a radio show starts their diatribe with the following: "I don’t want to get too far ahead of ourselves here, I realize it’s only the first week, BUT…" Then they go on to fellate the team and schedule their February vacation to Detroit completely negating their opening caveat.

This will go one for a few weeks. I’ve already heard that because of some team being overrated, and some guy being hurt and one team losing to some other team there’s a pretty good chance the Cowboys could be looking at a 5-0 start. From there apparently, they’d have to fall pretty hard to miss the playoffs. They even like Drew Bledsoe all of a sudden because he gave Larry Allen a hug. So now we've got a city full of idiots, blindly optimistic about a shitty football team. Look, I don't care that people get behind their team, and I can understand people being slightly unreasonable about it; hopeful even. I get that way about a team I like. But it's the degree to which it happens here, often without any real basis that gets to me. People just need to relax and let the games happen, drink a cerveza, eat a taco and chill.

Goodnight and go fuck yourself San Diego.

Shit

Tradise is gone

After only a few episodes E! has decided to cancel Taradise and I think that sucks. The only positive I can take from this is that she's leaving me wanting more. Eventually, I'm afraid Tara's drunken whorishness would have gotten played out and I would have tired of it.

The Defamer blurb makes a good point about footage that's already been shot. I hope they release a DVD. In fact Tara is good friends with Joe Francis fmo Girls Gone Wild, maybe he can have a hand in it.

I guess I have to find something else to write about now.

Life in Taradise

As I mentioned last week, Taradise on E! is probably the most consistently entertaining show on television right now. Well except for Entourage. Nonetheless, I've yet to get tired of watching Tara bumble through exotic locations proclaiming them the greatest place she's ever been in her whole life and describing every club she goes to as "so full of life". My biggest hope is that when the first season comes out on DVD, E! is smart enough to include tons of behind the scenes and "after hours" footage.

I'd like to see Tara throwing up in a Greek fountain, or trying to score coke off a bouncer. Scenes of her waking up in her clothes from the night before, farting on herself and then demanding an omelet and a bloody mary would be hilarious. Maybe even some sort of quiz-show type deal where she's asked lots of questions about the history and culture of the places she's traveled. Remember when Shaq went to Greece for some international basketball tournament? They asked him if he visited the Parthenon, and he said "I don't remember the names of all the clubs we went to over there."

Last night I watched the Mykonos episode. Fairly uneventful except for one huge highlight. Tara and the gang ran into That Guy Who Played Urkel and his buddy from the Kansas City Chiefs Freddie "FredEx" Mitchell. Tara kept talking about Freddie and Urkel like they were some unstoppable pair of party super-hero's. And I suppose they were. I guess Urkel has resigned himself to being Urkel for the rest of his life and accepted that if he rolls with it, he can pretty much fuck around for the next fifty years and no one will really care. Urkel don't need no day job. FredEx seems to be his buddy, and for an NFL player shows a remarkable lack of ability to be cool. I once saw LaVar Arrington at a club in DC and he knew how to party. Groupies, champagne, a posse, intimidation; the whole deal. Freddie was acting like a closeted frat-guy freshman looking to score with a TV nerd. Not even Tara was feelin' it; and she's a strung out, C-list, "actress". You think girls like her don't throw themselves at any NFL player they can get within 100 yards of?

Anyway, as good as this show is without some tweaks it should soon loose its luster. They need to go ahead and accept the train wreck factor and play it for as long as they can. They need a smarmy producer off-camera to egg her on, slip X into her drink, challenge her to crazy dares and feed her completely false information by the truck load. "The Pyramids were built in the 1850's by Mexicans who had come to Egypt hoping to free the slaves from the mythical sea monsters" I promise she won't catch on.

I gotta go. I obviously think about shit like this too much.

Some Random Thoughts

Tonight, in support of the great city of New Orleans, my buzz is brought to courtesy of the good folks at Abita Brewing Company.

I don’t really have to much that’s worth any single long post, so I’ll string some random thoughts together and see what sticks. If you’d like me to elaborate, let me know.

People have been asking why I haven’t shared a good story from the neighborhood lately. Well, it’s fucking hot outside. No shit, like 100 degrees at sundown. Unless it involves a body of water to keep cool it just ain’t worth it. People die from that shit. I’m heading to the lake after work tomorrow, though so that’ll be nice.

I did, however get out a for a walk this evening as it was a fairly pleasant night. Walking through the neighborhood I stopped at a gas station for some water, and ended up having a nice conversation with a guy I presume to be homeless and a meth addict. The lisp resulting from his three teeth made him a bit difficult to understand but he had some interesting insights. Apparently, the US government has some giant turbine-powered jet planes, with large fans attached to the bottom. Had they chosen to use them, they could have reversed the direction Hurricane Katrina was spinning, thus sending it out to sea and sparing the people of the gulf coast much death and devastation. When asked why they didn’t utilize such valuable technology he just pointed to the $2.53 on the gas pump. Maybe he’s smarter than I thought.

Apparently seven-foot tall black guys are a lot more common than you’d think. It would stand to reason such a person would have little choice but to pursue a career in the NBA. Not so. Evidently there’s enough of them out there that they can become drag queens who hang out at Kroger and drink chardonnay.

I really fucking hate the hands-free cell phone things. I see the point when driving but do you have to walk around wearing the goddamn things at all times? People who walk around and go through their daily lives with this shit on their heads need to get punched in the ear. It just looks stupid, and how long does it really take to pull the thing out and put it on when you get a call. And the new Bluetooth ones that make you look like a retarded spaceman? You look like a self important idiot. I saw a guy at luch today who was clearly on a date with some attractive girl and he had his earpiece in the whole time. If anyone did that to me, date or not, I’d throw my burrito at them.

I think I could accurately guess a junkie’s drug of choice with about 90% accuracy. At least as far as crack, meth, herion or alcohol goes.

I know some of you who read this have ties to President Bush by only one or two degrees separation. Tara Reid has a tremendous point that needs to be brought to his attention. While partying in Monaco, she lamented that “all the bad people who hate each other in the world should just buy their own country and blow each other up. Then we would have no more terrorists” …I don’t know which country is up for sale, or how much it would cost, but she may be on to something. This really may solve the terrorism problem, and if it could, I bet we could scrape together the cash to make it happen. If someone could get this idea to the President I’d appreciate it.

Speaking of the terrorism problem. The gentlemen I mentioned earlier from the Shell station has a theory about 9-11. Turns out the government also has a device installed on all commercial airliners that gives them total control over a plane when it nears buildings over 1000 feet high. They can immediately turn it around and crash it into the ocean. I don’t know why they didn’t use it, he didn’t say.

On a music note: listen to Scott Miller & The Commonwealth. That’s all I’ve been playing for three days. The solo/live ‘Are you with me?’ and the album ‘Thus Always to Tyrants’ are both phenomenal. I won’t deal with the whole bio, but trust me; If you haven’t heard it, give it a shot. If you like it try the stuff by his older band the V-Roys. They’re kick ass too.

As far as the New Orleans thing goes; shit. I don’t know, it’s pretty bad. Granted, I thought New Orleans was fairly dirty and trashy when I’ve been there; but that’s a result of the people who go there and make it what it isn’t. What you don’t see if you’re only there to guzzle hand grenades is that it is truly one of the greatest and certainly most unique cities in the world. The food, culture, people and music that have come from and passed through New Orleans make up a huge part of a lot of the things I love. Much of which, thankfully isn’t contained in buildings or bars that can be destroyed; rather in the people and art that’s come from them. Keep on keeping on.

I gotta go.

A kick in the pants

As much I love my Tivo, I hesitate to say anything bad about it. But the feature that allows it to select and record programs it thinks you'd like. Unfortunately this give Tivo the opportunity to really kick you square in the balls.

This past weekend, while away for three days, my Tivo recoded at least ten episodes of "Growing Up Gotti". What is that? Is there something about me that suggests I would like that show? Now that I think about it, I guess so. As awesome as it is, Tivo really isn't yet smart enough to differentiate between Growing Up Gotti and Laguna Beach or my new favorite show, Taradise.

Speaking of Taradise, watching it is both entirely amusing and distressing at the same time. As much as I love watching a bloated, strung out, drunken whore parade around the world, part of me just feels uneasy. Like knowing that an intervention and/or a trip to rehab can't be too far in the future. Come to think of it, I look at pictures of myself at certain times and get the same feeling.

Make no mistake about it, I don't feel that bad and it quickly passes. Usually when some B-lister gets their own reality show, similar comments are made: "Look how far they've fallen. I can't believe they gained so much weight. What happened that got them so desperate." It's tired. With Tara Reid we actually get to watch the descent in real-time and it's awesome. Rumor is E!'s cameras may even be there during production of her internet sex-tape. Although now that I've been thinking about it, was she ever really that famous?

She had smallish roles in two of the American Pie movies, took her shirt off in some movie I've only seen in 15 second intervals on Mr. Skin.com, and I assume several other small roles of varying success. Other than that she's pretty much famous for being in Us Weekly. Her publicist is a genius, albeit a little too good at their job. I guess this is natural progression, we’ve watched her grow as a party-goer and now we get to watch her fall. It makes me want party. Cheers.

I'm so angry...

So I went to the Anger Management Tour last night here in Dallas. In case you don't know, Eminem was the headliner preceeded by 50 Cent and the G-unit guys as well as Lil' John, and a bunch of other fuckers who I didn't bother leaving the bar early enough to see.

First off my main complaint. How fucking hard is it to get the sound right at a hip-hop show? All you have to do is balance a pre-recorded track and several microphones. In Eminem's case there were two guys on stage (Em and some dude who I assume to Obie Trice, but what the fuck do I know) and a "DJ" pretending to mix records on a little elevated platform off to the side of the stage. Songs would play and you could'nt hear Em during the verses. How the fuck does this happen? The one guy in the building who should have his mic turned up, and he doesn't. Whatever.

Despite that I had a damn good time. The thing is with rap/hiphop concerts is there really isn't much you can do to make them good. Rarely is the music generated fromm actual live instruments, so you basically end up with any number of people running around the stage rapping and generally fucking around. That's what's so great.

Watching G-unit play it is clear why 50 Cent is the star. He's the only one who seemed like had anything specific to do. The rest of the guys were just running around pouring bottles of water on groupies and waving their towel around. G-unit is made up of a bunch of guys who are really lucky they grew up on the same block as 50. And I suppose they're lucky 50 hasn't gotten himself killed yet.

Its a topic I love talking about: the Entourage, the Posse whatever. I think it's actually better to be a posse member than the head guy. The head guy has to do shit. If you're just some dude in G-unit all you really ahve to do is make sure 50 isn't too far away from wherever you are; the rest is money and bitches.

I'm going to elaborate on this later, but I don't care to be at work anymore this week so I'm leaving. Sobriety's a bitch.

A Whore's Bath

Damn that shit is funny...I just heard this term this week for some reason; that's some funny shit. I'm sure it's nothing new, that it's prety standard terminology but somehow I've just never heard it.

There's really nothing special about a girl (or guy for that matter) taking a shower, cleaning their naughty bits, smelling good etc. before going out on the town. I just think it's fucking hiliarious to call this a Whore's Bath. Who doesn't laugh at that?

A whore I suppose; but they probably already know why they're scrubbing down. Plus a lot of girls won't admit to being whores so maybe they don't know? I don't know. A clean girl is nice though.

Yes, there's sarcasm here. But be fully advised that I plan on running this term into the ground in the coming weeks.

you wanted a shout...

I just received this Voicemail from a friend. It seems like he's pissed about a lack of mention of him on this site. Well, here ya' go fuck-o.

What follows is as close to a transcript as I can put together right now.

Punctuation and the inflection in his voice may be a bit off. It's difficult to accurately depict slurred words on a keyboard....but you should get the idea.

In the interest of anonymity I've left out the names. If you know me or him, it's probably not hard to figure it out. So here are...you'll be hearing a lot about this guy. Sorry for leaving him out so far.

----------------------------------------------------------------
Bitch stop lyin’!!!

Hey mutherfucker this is *** .
Uh…I’m in DC and uh, I’m calling because uh, I just read your motherfucking web log and
I noticed a… I noticed a serious lack of comments about *** or anyone who even resembles me. And I’m wondering, you know, am I not that much a part of your life that that I don’t get on the fucking blog?… You know?

I’m in DC right now, I’m flat out fucking dominating this town. As usual.
I mean It’s fuckin’ Thursday and (girlfriend) and I are drunker than a couple of gunfighters, about to kill people and shit; And I mean your blog is fucking silent and shit. You’re probably just sleeping and shit. I’m telling you to call us fool. I’m serious, I’m serious.

Call us fool. Ha ha, seriously man. We’re out of control and you’re over there like… let’s see like a… like a fucking Eskimo in an igloo. That’s bullshit. I mean give us a fuckin call. I mean honestly you’re a fucking joke.

I’m over here, I’m fucking walking through uh, DC and shit. It’s like I own this town which I clearly do. Fucking clearly I do. I mean, clearly. Bought fuckin’ sold and paid for. Yeah, right on dude, seriously Serious.

I mean uh, I’m fucking killing people and shit and you over there, you don’t even have the fucking gravitas to fucking give me a shout out on your mutherfucking weblog.

I mean, what the fuck dude? I mean honestly, what the fuck? What the fuck…That is all I can say.

Hey,… give me a shout. Give me a mutherfucking shout. That’s all I’m saying, just give me a shout.
Dude, I don’t give a fuck about your job or your phone conversation. Who you know or where you been or who the fuck you been on vacation with.

Just give my monkey ass a shout. That’s all. Other than that just keep it real. Adios

Neighborhood encounters

I live in what can effectively described as a 'fringe' area of Dallas. Three completely different, very distinct communities converge at the corner on which I live.

Three blocks to one direction is Cedar Springs, a thriving homosexual district home to dozens of primarily gay bars, clubs, restaurants shops etc. On any given night (particularly weekends) you can see all manner of the homosexual community. Nothing really out of the ordinary for this type of neighborhood, but not your standard white-bread community either.

A little north of Cedar Springs is a pretty hard Hispanic barrio along Maple Ave. and Wycliff. I don't know too much about this area, except that the liquor stores sell cheap booze, and the grocery stores have great homemade tortillas. It is not uncommon to pass hookers, pimps and drug dealers while on my way to work. There's also a train track that runs through here, so there's always a good population of drifter running through here.

All this, and yet three blocks east is the border to Highland Park. Not sure where it ranks but I imagine it is in the ten or so wealthiest enclaves in the country. It was front page news just a few years ago when the first black family moved into HP.

Given it's location near several major intersections, my little area is home to quite a mix of residents. Everyone from metrosexuals, to homosexuals to meth-cooks and junkies live within a few blocks. In fact, just last week two crack houses were torn down that were adjacent to a condo-complex where homes start around $300K. Guess property value just went up a bit.

I like it here. None of these areas bother me too much, though I don't really fit perfectly into any of them. The ghetto is a little sketchy but far enough away that the dangerous stuff is kind of removed. I don't care for the cookie-cutter suburbia that makes up much of any large city these days so this neighborhood keeps things pretty interesting.

Don't get me wrong, I don't live in the ghetto. It's not really a dangerous place, it just has a huge mix of people living within several blocks of each other. The disparity between residences ranging from cheap tenements to high-dollar luxury townhomes results in lots of different and strange people and whatever type of activity they bring with them. In fact, pursuant to Megan's Law, every six weeks or so I receive in the mail a postcard informing me that a registered sex offender has moved into my zip code. I make it a point to find the address, and remove it from my jogging route. I don't do much jogging anymore.

So, here in the Ghayto we see some cool shit. Last week I was in 7-11 picking up some tall boys for my trip to the shopping mall. I walked in an a tiny Vietnamese lady was there arguing with the counter-guy. It seems he'd sold her a scratch-ticket and she'd won $6 which she was trying to redeem. Seems reasonable, right?. Well, apparently he'd only paid her $4 and this was grounds for assault. Problem was both only spoke very broken English, and the native language of each was quite different form the other's.

So here I am, minding my own business trying to catch a weeknight buzz and I get this bit of entertainment. She first started yelling at him, but he didn't understand. I didn't either. Her accent was very thick and her English very bad. Of course the counter guy was straight out of Africa. I'm not sure exactly where he was from but he looked like Manute Bol and was about 6'5"; he didn't speak Vietnamese. So the lady got frustrated at not being able to put toghether the right series of clicks ans whistles the guy would understand, so she started throwing packs of gum and Altoids at him demanding her money. Finally after pointing at her ticket and holding up various fingers, counter guy realized what she was after.

He claimed to have paid her the correct amount and physically forced her out of the store. I paid my $2 for 48 oz. of Miller Lite while she beat on the window and gave him dirty looks. After he and I kind of chuckled a bit she became incensed and came back into the store and tried to climb over the counter and take from the still-open register the very $2 that he'd taken from me. I guess this is when it escalated to robbery and Manute picked up the phone.

I guess little Vietnamese women are conditioned to have a strong fear of authority and of anyone in uniform (can't guess why); so as soon as the word "police" was mentioned she climbed back over the counter and walked outside. I figured this was over so I headed out to my car. I tried to encourage her to keep standing up for herself and that she needed to get the money that was righfully owed to her. I offered to call the cops and have them straighten it out but she ran away while Manute told me I had to leave too or I'd go to jail.

Keep it real.

Livin' in America

okay...lifted this from the daily links put together by Bill Simmons' intern over at ESPN Page 2 so I can't claim to have found it.

The hardest working man in show business, James Brown took a couple of months off a few years back to go to prison. Evidently he'd been videotaping women in the bathroom of his restaurant and they were'nt cool with that.

Here's a video of an interview he gave shortly after his release.

I Feel Good!!!

Larry Williams (aka The Dickeman)

Here it is guys...finally got it up and online.
For those of you who haven't seen this here's the backstory as its been told to me:
These two guys from california were out on Longview,Texas on some kind of business trip and needed directions. They ask some dude on the street and video tape the directions in lieu of writing it down.

Thank God they did. What they got is tremendous.

(I suppose this is work safe...provided you don't work someplace shitty)

Larry Williams (aka The Dickeman)

G-mail invites

If anyone has some G-mail invites let me know. I need a few for various puposes.
You know how to reach me.

update to on-field drinking

The Commissioner's office hung up on me this afternoon when I called seeking an answer to my question. I've drafted a letter in follow-up, should anyone wish to donate Monkeydrunk stationary to make it look more legit. Shit's expensive, yo.

If anyone has a contact at the Commissioner's office, please send it my way.

A-Rod to play for the Dominican???

Look, I have no real problem with Alex Rodriguez. I thought he was pretty cool when he was in Seattle, sold out and came here to Texas where he was pretty much a little bitch. He's kind of like Duke. Very successful, wealthy, probably an upstanding citizen; but no one you'd ever really want to spend much time around.

When it appeared that the Rangers were going nowhere, nor were they making any real effort at improving their team (a side-effect of A-Rod's crippling contract), he split for the evil empire and resigned to the Yankees to pick up his ring. The Red Sox spoiled that idea by whipping their ass last fall, proving that a group of hard-nosed, old-school ballplayers will always win against the rich kids form the Prep school up the street.

You see, heart counts. That's why Duke sucks. Sure my mom may like them because they have clean haircuts, and say 'please' and 'thank you', but in the back of their minds the kids from the street will always have something on them. No matter how much poetry JJ Reddick writes, he's still pissed he's not Tupac.

Enough about Duke, you should get the point. You should agree with me. Alex Rodriguez is like for the professional baseball. Without question one of the greats (possibly of all-time) but just on the outside looking in. He tried to be one of the popular kids by going to the Yankees but he found out people still don't like him. He tried to become the larger than life superstar he thought his talent dictated, but he got shut down. Not only was it Jeter's team, but a bunch of rednecks playing on Boston are getting all the trim.

So now he decides he wants to keep it real and play for the Dominican republic in the upcoming World Baseball Classic? What? Dude was raised in Miami; at best he's half Cuban. I'm not arguing he should play for the US, I don't really care. It just seems to me like he's trying once again to get on the inside of a place he doesn't belong. The Latin players are seen as the young stars of the game, look at homerun derby Monday night. Talent or not, those guys are just infinitely more likeable than a tight-assed, Nancy boy from Coral Gables who nurses at the teat of Steinbrener.

I just see this as A-Rod trying, once again to get in with the cool kids. Everybody knows damn well George will declare The Bronx a sovereign nation and enter the Yanks in the WBC anyway.