Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watch Watcher (56/365)

Lee watched the Businessman trapped somewhere between being Entranced and Horrified. The Businessman’s Eyes started to Bulge out of His Head as His face became Flushed, and He began to sweat Profusely frantically wiping His Forehead every 3 seconds. Lee couldn’t help but to compare what He was seeing to Witnessing a 12 Foot Giant Choking the shit out of Someone with all its Might. Lee was rendered useless by Indecision almost instinctively nudged Dizzy’s Knee with His 40 oz to get His Attention.

Dizzy lazily turned to look at Lee to find Lee staring at Him Wide Eyed like had just seen Hitler fucking an Electric Eel or some Crazy Shit like that. Lee motioned with His eyes in the Direction of the Businessman, and Dizzy having a Phd in Street Smarts from The FUCK YOU University of Life picked up on the question instantly. He took a second before casting a sly glance in the Direction of where the Businessman before quickly turning back to face Lee.

“What? What the fuck has You so Shook for fucks sake I know the Bus is a Bitch, but You’re being a fucking Drama Queen about it aren’t You,” said Dizzy with thorough Lack of Interest or Enthusiasm., “Just spit it Out what is Going On with You already.”

           

“I just saw the craziest most fucked up thing I think I have ever seen.” replied Lee still in a minor state of Shock and Awe.

“So what was it I’m not fucking Sherlock Holmes here so You’re going to have to Spell it Out for Me.” said Dizzy in the Tone of a Parent who is growing frustrated with a Child who can’t seem to Communicate properly what was going on.

“The fucking Businessman over there that motherfucker just Shot Up something in a Syringe directly into His fucking Neck, and Now He looks like His Head is Literally going to fucking Explode like the Guy in the Movie Scanners,”Lee explained while getting Himself even more worked up, “Seriously who does shit like That and in Public none the less?!”

“He’s Tweeting Hard as Fuck,” Dizzy Answered, “He’s a fucking whacked Out on Crystal Meth. My Guess is since He was Cooking up the Shot secretly without looking He probably just put to Much in by Accident, and Now He’s becoming well aware of His Mistake.”

           

“So what the fuck do You do in this situation I mean do We Alert the Bus Driver or Call the Cops?” Lee asked as His Mind Became to Race a Mile a Minute.

“NEVER CALL THE COPS EVER,” Dizzy Yelled Loud enough for the Entire Bus to Hear, “And what the fuck do You think the Bus Driver is going to do with this Information? I’ll tell You She will pull the fucking Bus over, call 911, and The Police with Show up with the fucking Medics. The Best thing to do is fucking Ignore it because it’s simply NOT YOUR PROBLEM!”

“Jesus thats fucking Brutal,” Lee said in utter disbelief, “The fucking Guy very well may Die right where He’s sitting on this crappy Bus. What a shitty way to go I mean imagine the obituary So and So Overdosed and Died on the Number something Bus today.”

“Fuck that Guy We don’t know Him, and We sure as Hell had Nothing to do with Him injecting Drugs into His Neck,” replied Dizzy Dryly, “If He dies He Dies.”

           

It was then that Lee noticed a Trashily Dress Woman with far too much make up on who had been sitting in the front of the Bus get up out of Her seat, walk over to the Businessman and handed Him a Bottle of Water. The Businessman snatched the Bottle of Water from The Trashy Woman’s Hands and downed it in One massive prolonged Sip. The Bottle drained and Empty He promptly handed it back to the Trashy Woman who then tossed it nonchalantly on the Floor without a care in the World.

“Look, Look right fucking there,” Lee blurted Out emphatically, “That Woman a fucking Stranger just helped out the Tweeked Out Businessman. See at least someone fucking Cares about Their fellow Man.”

“Don’t be Fooled that had nothing to do with a Helping Hand I assure you of That,” responded Dizzy condescendingly, “It wasn’t personal it was all business Brother All fucking Business.”

“What fucking Business the Free Bottled Water Business seriously what the fuck,” said Lee growing rather exasperated with Dizzy’s carefree attitude, “I think You’re the fucking One being Dramatic.”

“Bullshit It was Business and You want to Know How I know this its because SHE isn’t a good samaritan She’s a Bus Bunny.” responded Dizzy with an Air of Arrogance.

           

“Bus Bunny what the fuck is that exactly because it sounds like You mad it Up to be Honest,” said Lee confusedly, “Now its Your fucking turn to tell Me what the fuck is going on Exactly.”

“She’s a Bus Bunny. You know How there Hookers that tool the Truck Stops called Lot Lizards Right,” explained Dizzy confidently, “Well this is the equivalent of a Lot Lizard but Bus Bunny’s a Hookers who ride the Buses all damn Day  it’s called Dicks for Dollars.”

“I find that extremely fucking hard to believe, But I have No definitive Proof that You bullshitting Me,” replied Lee sounding Defeated, “Stranger things have happen I suppose.”

“You Don’t need to take My word for it,” snapped Dizzy defensively, “Just keep You eye on Those Two and watch what Happens.”

           

Stay Tuned for the Next Extroverted Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (57/365) Coming Soon!

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

FYB’s Friday Late Night Frightfest Film: MICROWAVE MASSACRE!

Tonight FYB Couldn’t Be Happier to bring You the Obscure 1983 Black Comedy Horror Movie MICROWAVE MASSACRE Directed by Wayne Berwick, and Staring Jackie Vernon (in His Final Feature Film)

Plot Summery: Donald is a Hard Working Construction Who Toils Away All Day on the Construction Site, and When He comes Home at Night All Donald wants is a Good Old Fashioned Home Cooked Meal.  Unfortunately for Donald His Wife and Fine Food Snob May has a Taste for Fine Dinning Fare in a Lame Attempt to make the Couple Appear to be Classier than They Are. While Donald’s Buddies Chow Down on Basic Bologna and Cheese Sandwiches at Lunch, Donald has to deal with Crab Sandwiches and Other FANCY FOOD ATROCITIES  His Wife packs for Him.

           

One Night Donald gets into a Drunken Argument with May and in a FIT OF HOMICIDAL RAGE Donald BLUDGEONS MAY TO DEATH with a rather Large Pepper Grinder. The Next Morning Donald wakens with a Hellacious Hangover, with No Recollection of the Previous Nights MURDER, and an Empty Stomach. Donald then makes the GRISLY DISCOVERY of May’s CORPSE in the Microwave. At Work Donald tells His Buddies that He and May have decided to Separate, BUT Once He’s off the Clock Donald goes Home and CUTS UP MAYS CORPSE. Donald stores the pieces of May’s BUTCHERED BODY wrapped in Tin Foil in the Fridge.

Looking for a Late Night Snack Donald stumbles groggily into the Kitchen where He accidentally EATS PART OF HIS DEAD WIFE’S HAND! After the initial Wave of Homicidal Cannibalistic Horror Passes Donald had the Horrific realization that it’s the Best Thing He’s ever Eaten. As Donald’s supply of HUMAN FLESH dwindles Donald has to start picking up Hookers, Killing and Cooking Them.

           

Donald brings some of His Killer Cuisine to the Construction Site where its an Instant Hit with His Friends leads to Donald’s decision to Cater an Outing to a Wrestling Match. Donald shows up at the Wresting Show with His new Recipe He calls “Peking Chick”. Donald’s Dark Secret is Uncovered by His Friends Roosevelt and Phillip when the Stop by to Pick Donald Up. When They Arrive Roosevelt and Phillip find Donald DEAD ON THE FLOOR apparently after Suffering a Fatal Heart Attack, but thats Not All. Next the Two Friends see that there are HUMAN BODY PARTS still in Donald’s Microwave, and Then Realize in Disgust that Their Dear Friend Donald had in Fact been Serving Them HUMAN FLESH.

Hope You Enjoyed Tonight’s Tale of Culinary Cannibalism as much We did, Although It has Left Us Hungry For More.

Thanks for Watching/Viewing

 Presented By Les Sober

A Bedtime Story For Adults Only

This Little Diddy was brought to My Attention by My Brother’s Good Friend Paul a few Days ago. As I mentioned My brother was in Town and He invited a Few of His Friends Along with Him. Some of the People where a My Brother’s High School Partner in Crime Ethan and His Wife who just had Their first Baby just 4 Months prior to the Trip.

The thing that Truly Sucks about Your Friends having Kids is on One Hand You’re obviously Psyched as Hell for Them as becoming Parents is an Awe  Inspiring Life Changing Event. Not to mention in loo of the Anxiety of Bring a New Life into the World They’re Happy as All Get Out about experiencing the Miracle of Birth First fucking Hand.

        

The Flip Side of the Coin is it makes Hanging Out difficult and Rather Boring as EVERYTHING They will talk about is fucking Baby Related. There’s the Baby’s Sleep Schedule, Feeding Schedule, Baby Gear, Baby Books/Articles, Baby Development, Baby Health Issues, Baby Blogs/Vlogs, Baby Achievements (such as Rolling the fuck Over for example), and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEIR STORIES IS ABOUT THE GODDAMN KID.

       

So Everyone was mingling around on the Front Porch just Killing Time and the Talk (as it does 98% of the time when hanging with New Parents) quickly turned to Their Baby and Baby Shit in General. Thats when Paul busted this Little Bit of Sunshine to Brighten Our Day. It Served as a Small Reminder that Not Everything about Being Parents is Boasting about Their Baby. Babies are Cute but They can Drive You to the Point of Actual Madness. The Trick I’m Told is Surviving the First 3 Months which are HELL AND A HALF, but if You can Keep Enough of Your Sanity in Tact after the Initial 90 Days Your quality of Life Greatly Improves.

       

The following Video is the Story Go The Fuck To Sleep by Author Adam Mansbach, Illistrated by Ricardo Cortes, and Read by No Other than Mr. Samuel L. Jackson.

Warning: The Following Video Contains Strong Language and Excessive Use of the “F”  Word that Some Viewers May Find Offensive!

Enjoy.

We Hope You Enjoyed Tonight’s Bedtime Tale as Much as We Do.

Thanks for Reading/Viewing/Listening,

 Presented by Les Sober

FYB’s Anti-Monday Movie: GRAVY

Even though it Another Mundane Monday Let Us Assure You EVERYTHING is Just Gravy!

Tonight FYB is Proud to Present a Healthy Helping of Salsa and SLAUGHTER with The CANNIBALISTIC INDIE HORROR COMEDY: Gravy

What Else could Cure the Mind Numbing Effects of Mondays more than an Appetizer of Guacamole and GORE followed by a Main Course in CANNIBALISM with HUMAN FLESH FIFITA’S,  a Serving of BLOODY BURRITOS, and a Side of HOMICIDE?!!

   

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING FILM CONTAINS SCENES OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, GORE, AND CANNIBALISM THAT SOME VIEWERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE, OBJECTIONABLE, NAUSEATING , OR DISTURBING. VIEWER DISCRETION AS ALWAYS IS ADVISED.

Well We Hope You liked Tonights Tale of Terror and Tacos. Goodnight and Sleep Tight.

Thanks for Viewing,

 Brought to You By Les Sober

Another Day Down At The Old CNB Bar & Pawn

Bud Wiser was running an Hour Behind in His Daily Schedule since He had been up half the Night. Bud had the unpleasant Pleasure of being Sleep Deprived this Morning because His Dog had eaten a piece of Rotten Garbage out of the Kitchen Trash Can. The Rotten whatever the hell it was had given Bud’s Dear Dog a  Violent Case of Projectile Diarrhea that had wrecked Havoc for most of the Night.

Fuck Me This is NO GOOD Bud thought Over and Over  while Walking as fast as His Limp would allow Him to. Bud had a Very Distinctive Limp after an Alleged Accident at Work when a Kegerator Exploded (after being Sabotaged mind You) in an Assassination Attempt against Him that Never was Resolved nor Explained.

You see Bud was the Owner and Proprietor of the Local Favorite Water Hole   The Cock’n Balls Pawnshop and Bar. Bud had inherited the Establishment from His Father Miller who had Opened The Cock’n Balls with a Unique Vision of Combining a Bar and Pawnshop All in One. His Father had Opened The Cock’n Balls in the Fall of 1966 on the Outskirts of the Small City of Nowhere Special. Bud’s Father opened the Doors of His Life Long Vision after Retiring from a Lengthy Career at The Handy Leg Up Artificial Limb Factory.

   

Bud’s Father had chosen the Name because the Rooster (aka a Cock) was on the Wiser Family Crest. This was sue to The Wiser Family having been the Most Predominate and Wealthy Lithuanian Chicken Farmers in all the Land.  Since Pawnshops have been around for Thousands of Years when the Average Person couldn’t Read or Write the 3 Hanging Balls that had come to Symbolized Pawn Shops had been adapted to combat the Wide Spread Illiteracy of the General Public. So when You add them together Your left with the Simple and Explanatory Name The Cock’n Balls (and since the Bar Sign Company charged by the individual letter Bud’s Father opted to save the Cash and just Add Lib the ‘N instead).

The Day Bud’s Father Died His Body was Liquified, and Mixed into the Barfly’s Bloody Mary Mix. Then at the Memorial Service the Following Afternoon the Attendees were all given a Complimentary Bloody Mary to Celebrate the Life of (instead of Mourning the Death) of Miller Tyme.

Bud had preserved the exactly same Operational Proceeders that had been set out by His Father which included a Strict Adherence to Time to keep the Cock’n Balls running on Schedule. This meant Bud had to arrive at the Business No Later than 6 am  in order to get the CNT (As it was referred to by its Loyal Regulars) Ready to Open at 7 am Sharp for the Upcoming Day’s Drama. Today though Bud was an Hour behind due to the damn Dog, and He knew the Booze Loving Barbarians would already be Standing about on the Corner waiting for Him to arrive. And He wasn’t wrong not by a Long Shot.

        

The Gang of Usual Suspects were Standing about Lingering on the Corner outside of the CNB Chain Smoking like Fiends, and pacing Impatiently while  compulsively checking Their watches as if Their Lives fucking depended on it. The Group was Split between the CNB Regulars, and The Night Shift Crew who just got off the Assembly Line of one of the Near By Factories, and were just looking to Relax after Work even if They did get Off work at 7 am.

Some of the Regulars that had already arrived included Shitty Nickels the Local Blues Musician who had just Finished a Long Night of Playing at Numerous Local Night Clubs and Cocktail Lounges. There was “Bloody” Sod Bollocks a Self Proclaimed Intellectual who’s Family had immigrated from England back in 1495 just 3 years after the Pilgrims found Plymouth and its Famous Rock. The funny thing about the Bollock Family was even though They had immigrated over 500 years ago None of Them had Lost Their Thick English Accents.

     

There was The Local Bum Bawbag Cockwomble who spent His Days Panhandling and His Nights at The CNB Drinking away the Days Profits. There was also Mickey Drongo who Spent His Nights running an Illegal Chop Shop around the Corner from The CNB. Also there was Pissy Wristy the Neighborhood  Hooker, and  Jimmy Tosser the Local Small Time Drug Dealer. As Bud Approached the Corner Harry Twat who Spent His Days down at the Dog Track Gambling on Anything He possibly Could (the Only issue was Harry had truly shitty Luck) walked up. The Last to Show up was Dicky Dullard a Low Level Criminal, and Adamant Heroin Junkie who Lived to Chase the Dragon with Pride.

As Bud Walked Up He could hear Mickey Drongo and Bawbag Cockwomble arguing over Some asinine thing or an Other. Jesus They’re starting Early Today Bud thought while sighing under His Breath. All of a Sudden Bud’s presence was Announced aloud by Mickey Drongo the ChopShop Mechanic, and Immediately Bud was subjected to a Verbal Tidal Wave of Complaints, Criticisms, and just plain Bitching from the Small Group assembled on the Corner in front of CNB.

“Hold Yer goddamn Horses Already! God forbid You all have to Wait one minute more than Necessary without Whining like Ally Cats for a Tin of Tuna.” Bud Barked Angrily.

       

“Pardon Dear Proprietor while We do love You establishment it is rather unprofessional to keep your Clientele waiting for up to an Hour after the Posted Opening Time.” chimed in Sod Bollocks who had already collected the Days Papers in Hopeful Preparation for a Payday. Sod had been in a rather large Rut recently, and was running up Tabs all over Town as it were while He struggled to Win a Single Wager down at the Track.

“Well Hold Yer Horses a bit Longer, You may be ready but the Cock’n Balls isn’t. I have done any of the Prep needed for dealing with the like of Your Lot.” snapped Bud growing weary of the Barrage of on Complaints from the Barking Boozehounds standing at His Door Step.

Bud pushed His way through the Customers perched like Alcoholic Buzzards waiting for the Doors to Open so They could Feast on the Fluids of Fermentation. Bud fiddled with the finicky lock until it finally gave way and let Bud stagger inside abruptly closing the Door behind Him under the Crescendo of Cursing from His Customers as They would have to continue to wait.

       

Bud flicked on the Lights, checked to make sure the Toilet was still functional, inspected the Pool Cues to insure they weren’t broken or Warped, He doubled checked to make sure the Display Cases were Securely Locked, Wiped down the Bar, made Sure He had the Stock He needed, Unlocked the Door to the Basement which acted as a Make Shift Poor Man’s Drunk Tank for Overly Intoxicated and Uppity Patrons, and Cleaned off the Table Tops.  Then after He was fully satisfied Bud Opened the Doors at Last to the Great Relief of His Awaiting Patrons.

The Customers came pouring in like the Booze They poured down Their Throats. At this time of Morning all the Customers Gravitated to the Bar as Pawn Shop Customers general started showing up in the Early Afternoon. The CNT was split in Half by a Row of Rickety Tables, and a Motley Crew of Mis Matched Bar Stools that looked like each had been Salvaged from the Garbage on the Curb.

Once You entered the CNB the L shaped Old Oak Bar was directly to the Left along the Wall, and Directly to the Right was the Designated Pawn Shop Area. The Pawn Shop consisted of Display Cases housing Power Tools, Various Electronics, and Most Expensive Inventory (such Designer Watches or High End Pieces of Jewelry) lined the Wall with a almost equally as Long Display Counter filled with a Slew of Different Merchandise (Knives, Antique Coins, Lower end Jewelry, and Other Curiosities.

Each of the awaiting Patrons slid up to the Bar ready to start killing Their Livers as Quickly as Humanly Possible. Now because Bud Opened the CNB at 7am He served a what His Father had Dubbed “The Barfly Breakfast Special” which consisted of a Hot Dog, Pickled Egg, and a Draft Beer for $1.99. The Breakfast option provided Fuel for the Factory Workers after a Long Shift Toiling away performing Manual Labor, and it provided Fuel for the Regulars fora  Long and  Lingering Day of Drinking.

Mickey Drong The Owner of a Neighborhood Chop Shop picked the Spot at the Bar that was directly across from the Shitty and Barely functioning TV that was Hung on the Back of the Bar reminiscent of the way Motels did back in the Day when Mounted TV’s were what everyone was into. Sitting Next to Mickey was Bawbag Cockwomble the Pan Handling Alcoholic Bum who was still Babbling a Mile a Minute in Mickey’s Ear.

“Just BUY a Goddamn Egg it’s Only .25 Cents for Fuck’s Sake, and I damn well know even YOU have a crummy Quarter.” Mickey said exacerbated and trying His best to remain Civil.

“Yeah Yeah I do have a Quarter, but its designated for My Morning Shot of Grain Alcohol that Perks Me up and gets My Day off to a Good Start. I mean I need it, it’s fucking medicinal. I wonder around the Block for 12-14 hours a Day and My feet get all fucked up, Swollen and Sore shit like that.” whined Bawbag like a Cranky Child who wanted a Toy but Who’s Parents wouldn’t buy it for Them.

“That’s not My Problem it sounds like Yours to Me.” Snapped Mickey Sharply as His growing agitation started to get the Best of Him.

“All I’m saying Mickey is if Your going to Buy the Breakfast Deal Meal then You could just GIVE Me the Pickled Egg that comes with it. I could use the fucking Protien to help Me keep on Keeping On.” replied Bawbag indignantly as He too was getting rather Agitated at Mickey for not Forking Over the Pickled Egg Portion of His Breakfast.

“I have a great idea that will Settle this Little issue You Two are in the Mist Of.”, said Harry Twat the Neighborhood Deaerate Gambler with a Sly Smile stretched across His Face.

       

“And Whats That?!” ask Mickey unenthusiastically as the Whole Ordeal was wearing on Him at this Point He just wanted to be Rid of Bawbag and enjoy His Breakfast.

“A Wager, a Simple Bet will Fix it. The Bet shall be Whoever Eats the most Vomit Enducing Pickled Product Wins. Either Bawbag wins and Gets Mickey’s Pickled Egg or Mickey Wins and Bawbag has to leave Him Alone for the Entire Week.” proclaimed Harry Happily as if He had just Cured Cancer.

” I’M IN!!”blurted Out Bawbag fingering Win or Loose He was Going to Get Something to Eat out of it so fuck it Why Not?!

“Fine, I’m in Too. Whatever get this Pain in My Ass to Shut Up and go the fuck away so I can Enjoy My Morning with some fucking Peace and fucking Quit.” said Mickey having become absolutely exhausted by Now.

The Commotion had gotten the Attention of the Entire Bar Who’s Interest was Growing by the Minute. Bud went to fetch His Pressure Pickler (which is basically a Pressure Cooker modified for Speeding up the Pickling Process) that He had bought on impulse late one Night while He was watching Infomercials to combat His Insomnia. Once Bud returned to the Bar within  Seconds after the Bet was made the Suggestions came Flying Fast and Furious. Among the first set of Suggestions were:

Pickled Pigs Feet which Everyone Agreed were to Cliche to Count.

Pickled Pig Knuckles which Everyone thought was Better than Pig’s Feet but Still Not Impressive Enough.

Pickled Sausages Which actual turned into a Suggestion as an Addition to the Barfly Breakfast which Bud Agreed to do starting the Following Day.

Then the Suggestions began to get Uniquer and Stranger than the One before it. Shitty Nickels suggested Pickling a Cockroach, but Bud vetoed it because there were No Roaches in His Establishment and Didn’t See the point in Introducing Them Now.

Then Pissy Wristy suggested Pickling up some Tripe (Animal Stomach Lining) Next Dickey Dullard The Passionately Romantic Junkie suggested Pickling a Container of Head Cheese.

This was followed by Jimmy Tosser the Local Dope Dealer’s suggestion that instead of Head Cheese upping the Ante by using Chitterlings (Animal Intentions, Organs, Eye Balls Etc.all thrown together in a 5 Gallon Bucket) instead.

Then it was Harry Twat’s turn Who’s suggestion was to Pickle a Whole Haggis. After almost an Hour of Debate it was Bawbag who finally came up with the winning Suggestion.

          

“I Got it, I know what to Pickle! My Toe!” exclaimed Bawbag way more excited than He should have been.

“What are You saying exactly Bawbag?” ask Bud who was now becoming concerned that this Bar Bet had gotten completely Out of Hand.

“You see I have an Ingrown Toe Nail on My Big Toe that got Horribly Infected, But I didn’t have the Cash for the Clinic so I just banged it up as best I could and went about My Business.” explained Bawbag to the more than Attentive Bar Patrons.

“You could have gone to the fucking Free Clinic Bawbag You dumbfuck.” snarled Mickey who had become thoroughly Disgusted by the ongoing issue.

“No Way it got shut down last month due to Budget Cuts by the State and all that Red Tape Bullfuckery.” Bawbag retorted confidently.

“So what about Your Infected Toe again?!” asked Jimmy Tosser eager to return the topic of the Conversation to the Bet at Hand.

“Oh Yeah So it was all Infected and Shit so as time went on it Contracted Gangrene something fucking Ferocious too I tell Ya. It turned all Black from lack of Blood Flow and its already beginning to Rot Off so Why not kill 2 Birds with one Stone?! Win the Bet and get My Diseased Toe Amputated for Free I literally can’t fucking Loose.” bragged Bawbag growing quite Cocky.

“Fine Agreed The Bet is You have to Eat The Entire Severed Toe.” growled Mickey angrily.

“How the Hell are We going to Amputate it?!” wondered Pissy aloud.

“This is How We can use My Cigar Cutter to Lop it Off, and then all We have to do is Cauterize it. After that We apply some Triple Antibiotic Ointment, Wrap it up, and Thats It We’re Done.” said Shitty Nickels, “We did this kind of shit all the Time in Nam it’s easy if You know what the fuck You’re doing.”

The Bar Patrons along with Mickey and Bawbag made Their way over to the Nearest Table. Bawbag say down gingerly on one of the Wayward Stool and Then Took Off His Older than Old Beaten Up Boot. The Smell was so Pungently Rank it caused Pissy Wristy to instantly Vomit before Fainting. Bud picked Pissy Up off the Floor, set Her on the Bar, and revived Her by placing a Bottle of Cheap Gin under Her Nose like a Alcoholic Smelling Salts.

Bawbag paused to watch Bud take care of Pissy before He pealed off His rank Sock which made a Wet Sucking sound as Bawbag slowly removed it. The Smell which was already Over Powering the Bar immediately intensified to the Point Everyone’s Eyes started to Water, and Dickey Dullard shit Himself on the Spot.

Once Bawbag’s foot was Bare Shitty handed Him His Cigar Cutter which He crammed onto His Sickly Swollen Toe taking several minutes to Force it down to the Base of said Toe. Once the Cigar Cutter was in Place at Last Shitty Nickels instructed Bud to fetch the Ointment and Bandages from the Bar’s First Aid Kit. Shitty Nickels then had Harry retrieve a Large Butcher Knife that Bud used to Slice Lemons and Limes from behind the Bar. He then told Harry to start a Fire in the Tiny Metal Trash Can from the Bathroom. Then Shitty Nickels had Harry place the Blade of the Knife across the Top of the Trash Can so the Fire could Heat up the Knife until it was a Deep Glowing Orange.

       

Then Shitty Nickels had Bawbag place His foot flat on the Floor, Told Him He was going to count to 3, and on2 Shitty Stomped down with all His weight onto the Cigar Cutter. There was a brittle crunch and Bawbag’s Gangrenous Toe popped off and slid across the Bar floor coming to a stop under the Dilapidated Pool Table nestled in the Back of the Bar adjacent to the Restroom. Shitty pounced like a Cat of Coke snatching the Glowing Red Hot Knife and shoved it up against the Base of Bawbag’s recently Severed Toe . The Smell of Sizzling and partially Rotten Flesh drowned the Repulsive Smell of Bawbag’s Feet which most in Attendance appreciated especially Dickie and Pissy.

After 30 seconds or so Shitty removed the Knife tossing it carelessly onto the Bar causing Bud to lose His Shit. The Group returned to the Bar where Jimmy Tosser handed over Bawbag’s Diseased Digit over to Bud who plopped it unceremoniously into the Pressure Pickler and Turned it on. It seemed like an Eternity to the Eagerly Waiting Rag Tag Group of Drunks, but in Reality it was only 17 minutes before Bawbag’s Toe was completely Pickled.

       

Bud Opened the Pressure Pickler and Removed the Toe with a pair of Metal Salad Tongs, Placed it on a Cocktail Napkin, and handed it to Bawbag who seemed utterly unfazed by the whole Ordeal. Bawbag picked up His Toe examining it for a moment before tossing it into His Mouth. Bawbag chewed away until finally He Strained to Swallow. After some finagling Bawbag managed to get the Toe down, and then He opened His Mouth like Mental Patient to Visual Confirm He had in fact Swallowed the Toe. Bud stared blankly into Bawbag’s gaping Gullet before announcing Bawbag had completed the His Task thus making Him the Winner. Bawbag then turned to Mickey Drongo, Chuckled to Himself and the He said:

“I’ll be taking that Egg Now Mickey.”

       

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

Rejected TV Shows

These shows are all great on paper but sadly many are far ahead of their time.

1- Whose Kid Is It Anyway?-

Who wouldn’t want a network reality show to start with a gangbang? None of the Americans ones for sure. Long story short: Girl meets boy. The catch? Girl meets 15 boys and shoves them all in her snatch.

Then she eliminates them one by one (or more) before she gets the paternity test. Sadly the orgy for this film was shot but never released.

Even more tragically the star of the show Vanessa Montana Lopez died during a botched week 40 abortion of her pregnancy while waiting for the producers to get back to her about filming.

2) King of the Trump-

I know what you are thinking. Nope not about him. Picture a bunch of senior citizens trying to out racist one another. Also bill cosby was slated to host and that didn’t quite turn out too good.

3) The Brotherhood of the Travelling Jock Strap

So this must be great gay camp, right? Nope the whole show took place in a hetero beaver cleaver world. The jock strap was a talking jock strap but alas even talking jock straps can’t save america.

4) Serial

Never got made because well no serial killers wanted to kill people wearing body cams or shitty google glasses.

5) Anuses Over the Moon

How far can you shoot objects out of your anus? Not far enough as the search for the greatest anal field goal kicker in the world continues.

6) I Think I Fucked My Mom

This show pitted horny young men with vivacious cougars. After wining, dining and 69ing however the bombshell was dropped. You just fucked your birth mother. However massive abadoned dwarf protests led by Tangia (walk into the light Carol Anne) and the Munchkin 7 in the early 90s halted this project right after the pilot was found.

7) Dick Dongle Does Kids

Pee Wee had it hard. Too hard at a porn theater. Dick dongle actually taught kids but the title killed the show and the real life Dick Dongle (yes his birthname) shot himself and 3 others at a Texas rest stop in 2001.

8) Dumpster Livin

This followed around a group of homeless dumpster diving, begging and smoking crack all day. The homeless led by former grateful dead devotees fought this long and hard but by trying to give the homeless LSD. They gave Ricky Hanakowski a bit too much. He killed 2 people and ate a living cat in front of onlookers because he had to prove his worth to Satan. He was in hell’s kitchen after all.

More shows to come later.

 By SpaceDog

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (26/365)

As it turned out The Dueling Ted Nugents clashing in a Inflatable Kiddie Pool filled with Spam turned out to be quite Anticlimactic. As instead of flat out Brawling the Two Teds were having a choreographed Fight which looked to be a Hybrid of Professional Wrestling and Kung Fu. To make it suck even worse They were fighting in a Slow Motion Matrix Style Rip Off.

Lee couldn’t tolerate the Slow Motion Slaughterfest in Spam a moment longer so He opted to take a leak. Lee descended the Stair case back into the Dismal Lobby where He searched for the Restroom Door. Lee located it at last over on the Far Wall past the crappy Concession Stand.

        

Once Lee reached the Restroom Door He pushed it open only to discover it didn’t lead to an actual Bathroom, But to the Cramped Trash Packed Ally  next to the Theater. Lee figured when in Rome (or an Ally in Rome in this Case), and walked over to the nearest Dumpster. Lee was being extremely cautious no to step on any of the Garbage that was strewn about the Ally. The last fucking thing Lee needed was to catch Hepatitis or Herpies in addition to witnessing this ridiculous Performance Art absurdity.

Lee went back into the Theater and returned to His seat. Once seated Lee noticed the Two Teds had vacated the Stage, and the Next Act was now on Stage. Thank fuck thought Lee taking a piss had been the perfect way to avoid anymore Spam induced Shit. On Stage there was a Man who looked to be in His fifties suffering from a classic case of Male Pattern Baldness leaving His remaining hair looking like a Common Clown Wig.

        

He was Shirtless and Lee was truly dumbfounded by how much fucking Body Hair this Guy had. There was so much hair that it looked to Lee like this Guy had missed a step or two in the Evolutionary Process. Serious Lee thought this Guy must be the Subject of a ton of Bigfoot Sightings, and the Unknowing Star of hundreds of Sensational Bigfoot Captured on Film Videos. Lee figured that a real live Specimen of a Bigfoot is essentially a Cryptozoologist’s Wet Dream come True.

The Man who too Lee’s disappointment was wearing a pair of Kaki Slacks instead of say Shorts or possibly a swim suit who fucking knew in a Venue like this One Lee found Himself in currently. The Man on Stage also had on a Pair of Black Dress Shoes so Lee couldn’t see how Big win fact this dudes feet were, and couldn’t help wondering if the Black Shoes were intentional to hide perhaps this Guys Big Feet?!

      

The an went over to the Side of the Stage to retrieve a couple of Saw Horses, a 2 by 4, a 5 pound Hand Held Sledge Hammer, and a Nail that honestly could have been a fucking Railroad Tie. The Man set up the Saw Horses about 4 feet apart and then He places the 2 by 4 across them like a Balance Beam. The Man then took the Nail and Put it in His mouth Sideways Biting  Down on it Gingerly. He perched the Hammer balancing it precariously at the far right end of the 2 by 4.

Once the Performer Guy had his Set Up as situated He nonchalantly took His pants off folding them delicately before placing them at His feet. Again to Lee’s dismay The Guy managed to remove His pants OVER his Shoes depriving Lee of yet another curious glance at the size of His feet.

        

The Man then pulled His Boxer Shorts down to His ankles in one fluid motion, Stood Up, Plopped His Flaccid Penis onto the 2 by 4 in front of Him, Took the Nail out of His Mouth with His left Hand, Picked up the Hammer with the Right, and the Blurted out “I GIVE YOU…THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.” before holding up both the Hammer and Nail in outstretched Arms in a Crucifix Pose.

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrows Harrowing Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (27/365)

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

The 3 Tiers of The Flea Market

Over the last few Months I (along with My Wife and a Few Select Friends of f-yourblog) have been hitting up the Local Weekend Flea Market. The Weekend part is due to the fact that this particular Flea Market is only Open Saturday & Sunday. Also when I say Local I mean an Hour long Drive Away from Our Home Office in the Sticks.

During Our time Scouring The Flea Market for Cool Shit that We like or Appealed to Us We learned the Lay of the Land, Scored some really Good Deals, picked up some kick ass Cool Pieces, got to Know Our favorite Vendors, and started to build a more Personal Relationship with Them.

We observed that the Quality (and Coolness of the various Merchandise) along with the People Selling it relied on a very simple Geographical Geometry. It consisted of Three Principle Parts or Territories as I prefer to refer to it as.

     

At the Center of the Flea Market is the Big Building or Heart if You will because like a Heart without it the Entire System Dies. Next as You work Your way Outward from The Big Building You find The Vendors of the Cement Circle that Surrounds the Encompassing the Entire Exterior Perimeter of the Big Building.

And Lastly there is the Sketchy Outer Circle frequented by “Vendors”that I have dubbed The Gravel People. Their feeble Circle separates the very Fringe of the Flea Market from The Dirt Parking Lot (that at one point was Gravel but obviously there hasn’t been any attempt at upkeep since it was installed).

Don’t worry Dear Reader I will elaborate further on the Three Tiers in Detail as I describe The Who’s & What’s of the Three Very Different Tiers of said Flea Market. I know right know it may seem rather confusing if You haven’t either been there or at least seen Pictures. Well Lets get started in that case.

      

The Big Building is a rather interesting structure. There is a Main Hallway that runs around half a mile from one end to the other. Along this long corridor are intersecting Hallways that are Alphabetically Labeled, and designated with a Directions such as C North. To Me it would look like a set of Cartoon Stitches if You could get an Arial Photo of it, please feel free to refer to the Diagram (Diagram: +++++).

The only Downside outside of Restrooms that make the Restrooms at Bus Stations look Sterile is the Building Lacks Heating and Air Conditioning. Needless to say Spring and Fall are the Prime Seasons due to Their temperate climate and Milder Weather. I have personally gone in July, and holy shit I can’t even describe how God Awful Hot it was. Within 5 minutes of Entering the Building I was Sweating like I was on an African Safari and shit.

      

The Stalls that line the Walls of the Big Building Aesthetic is reminiscent of Third World Markets. It all starts with the fact the Big Building is in all actuality a Massive Prefabricated Structure comprised of a Wood Frame and Corrugated Metal Siding. It gives it the feel as if You’re wandering around in some Giant Garden Shed Display Model and shit. The Booths are Open in the Front located between Two Make Shift Walls slapped together with random Pieces of Ply Wood in a Clapboard Architecture Style.

There are some more Grandiose Vendors Who have build Faux Store Fronts complete with Plexiglass Windows, Exterior Doors, and Wood Frame with Painted Ply Wood walls. And they’re all types of Businesses You can Find Besides the Usual Vender Peddling a Schmorgesborg of Assorted Wares such as Lamps, Glassware, Antique Furniture, Vintage Video Games/Toys, Clothes etc.

       

Some of the Exceptions are an Exotic Animal Vendor, A Krantom Dealer, a Palm Reader, Knife/Sword Dealer, a Crappy Dairy Queen Knock Off, Hemp Product Hawker, Computer Repairs, a T-Shirt Screener, a Head Shop, an exclusively Hot Sauce Salesman, a Boiled Peanut Vendor, A Leather Dealer, A Pair of Old Men that Sell Pet Fish, an Ice Cream Joint and a Couple of Christian Ministries holding Court and general talking about God/Bible/Jesus.

The Vendors that Operate in the Big Building are the most Personable as well as Knowledgeable (Perspectively) when it comes to Their Merchandise. They also have the Vast Majority of Quality and Interesting Pieces. The Inside Vendors are by far more Friendly, Welcoming, and Engaging than Their Counterparts that occupy the Subsequent Additional Two Outer Circles. These Vendors seem to have a serious Carnie Vibe to say the Least. It’s a VERY tight knit Community. They all know each other and all get along, and They take care of One Another. Be it Watching a fellow Seller’s Booth while They take a Bathroom Break to Running into Town to Get A Fellow Vender Lunch.

     

Speaking of the Outer Circles lets address the Vendors of the Concrete Tables now. These Vendors set up is far more simplistic than the Big Building’s Booths. The Vendor rents a Large Stationary Table constructed of Concrete thats lined with a shabby sidewalk that laps the Big Building. Now the Concrete Table Crew have the Option of Providing Their own Tent to protect Their Merchandise and Customers from the Blistering Sun of Summer or for the Gloomy Overcast Slightly Rainy Days.

The Concrete Table Vendors wares are less distinguished, and more Generic than the Collection of Cool Antiquities located Inside. Here You can find People Peddling more common wares such as Clothing, Bargain Jewelry, DVDS/CD’s, Old Yard Equipment, Perfume/Calone   and Fresh Produce such as Fruits and Vegetables. This strike Me as the kind of Shit You more Typically see Someone Selling on the Corner Sidewalk in Any City USA.

      

The Vendors like Their Merchandise are Unassuming, don’t get Me wrong They aren’t rude or assholes They just act the same as any Retail Employee in They hang back and wait for a Purchase without really even acknowledging Their Customers. Their quite and Reserved in Their own right.

There are certain advantages if You can find them as Well. I mentioned that inside the Big Building there was a Overpriced Knife/Sword Dealer, and I’ve been collecting Knife/Swords and such for 15 Years from Retail to Pawnshop. The point is I’m not blowing smoke outta My ass and Up Yours, I actually due know what the fuck I’m talking about here.

Well not too long ago while walking The Cement Circle I found a Boisterous and EXTREMELY Friendly Man who was also there to solely sell Knife/Swords. The difference in the Vendor was He was Happy and Humble where as the Knife Guy in the Big Building Thinks WAY TOO HIGHLY of Himself to the point He comes off rather rough and bit condescending. Let’s just say He doesn’t know as much as He thinks He does. He just got lucky and has a good customer base which is Why I assume He has such a Pretentious Attitude.

     

The difference in Merchandise was also notable. The Indoor Knife Guys had Display Cases, Shelving, Shit Hanging suspended over the Counter, and a The Back wall adorned with all types of Weapons hanging on it (it’s Overkill You ask Me). Now the Gentlemen selling Outside had His Knifes in Recycled Produce Bins with Price and sometimes a Unique Description like “CONFISCATED AT AIRPORT” for Example. The Outside Vendor also had a much more accurate Price Point though some of the Knifes needed sharpening or a hinge tightened (But thats Shopping the Flea Market for You. You want pretty packaging in a Tranquil Retail surroundings go PAY RETAIL)

       

Now as for the Last Group of Flea Market Vendors are the aforementioned Gravel People. These are the so called “Vendors” who display Their wares either by Setting them on the Ground, Thrown haphazardly into Extra Large Plastic Bins, and in some bizarre cases They have the Goods in an Actual Pile. It’s as if  They drove up in a Dump Truck packed to the Gills with Glorified Garbage, and Unloaded on the Spot. They kind of shit the Gravel People Sell is Your Typical Garden Variety Yard Sale bullshit. It’s the definition of USELESS CRAP. Seriously No One’s Grandmother would even bother looking at Their junk.

      

The Gravel People are also hard on the Eye as They look like They’ve been living under a fucking Bridge or in a Homeless Shelter. They’re sweaty, dirty, and run down by the trials of living a Hard (and usually unpleasant) Live. Their attitude matches Their Merchandise its quite unattractive. The last time I and My Wife were there We decided to check out the Gravlers for the first time ever since We started frequenting the Flea Market.

While We were overlooking this particular card tabled with Cheap and Broken items on it We overheard some of The Gravelers conversation They were having amongst Themselves. The conversation was One White Trash Meth Addict bitching that He only made $40 in the last 3 weeks, and He hated Thieves to the point He’d Stab/Cut anyone he caught Stealing From Him. The Skinny Old Guy who looked like a late stage Alcoholic nodded His head and mumbled in agreement.

   

I couldn’t help but to look around at this Guys Goods, and Though Who the fuck would even bother to Steal this shit to begin with?! It was the kind of crap You couldn’t even give away for the low low Price Free at Yard Sales half the time. I swear 80% of the Gravlers are there to sell Their sub par shit to fund Their Drinking or Drug Habit.

The other 20% are just a bunch of Poor Bastards just trying to scrape by anyway They Can. It’s those Poor Souls be it a Grandmother who lives in a Single Wide Mobile Home trying to supplement Her Shitty Social Security Check, or Immigrants who came to this Country in Hopes of a Better life for Them and Their Families only to find None. Whatever the Misfortune I try to buy a couple of Trinkets (I honestly end up donating them to Goodwill) from The Poor 20% of the Gravlers now each time I go. I do it because its one of those situations where the Money doesn’t matter to Me, but that couple of Bucks is a much bigger Deal to say Someone fighting to avoid being Homeless or someone Who Needs a decent fucking Meal.

=       

In the End the Flea Market is entirely a World in itself full of Colorful Characters, One of a Kind Pieces, and Stories to Tell. And just like Tattoos or Potato Chips it’s Addictive as all get out. Once You’ve gone and experienced The Flea Market in all its Oddity You’ll find Yourself walking to Your Car while simultaneously Planning Your Next Trip back.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

McCoy’s Artistic Chaos

 

Les felt exhilarated and full of self righteousness as he drove as fast as humanly possible towards the freeway. Adrenaline was flowing through his veins like water through a flood gate making his skill feel electrified. His senses were all on high alert. As Less banked a right turn onto the freeway the car to fish tailed slightly. His blue tooth began to ring. Goddamnit Les thought to himself, for he knew it was one of two people. It was either his manager Mortimer, or the goddamn cops, but he’d done a good job at avoiding the police. It’s the goddamn media you can’t out run those vultures constantly circling waiting for tragedy and death to strike. Begrudgingly Les switched his blue tooth on as he felt his undying rage he possessed flare up all over again.
“What do you want?!,” demanded Les angrily.
“Les it’s Mortimer, your agent”
“I know who the hell you are Mort, I sign your goddamn paychecks. Not to mention I pay you to be my MANAGER NOT MY MOTHER. I already have one of those, and I haven’t talked to her in eight years AND COUNTING!” yelled Les at the top of his lungs now enraged that Mortimer has called him in the first place.
“Les your on the news again, thats 5 times this month alone,” Mortimer said in a slow authoritative tone like a teacher or librarian.
“FREE PRESS MORTIMER FREE GODDAMN PRESS!” screamed Les as Les’s driving began to become as erratic as his behavior. Les was preoccupied at that moment punching his steering wheel. This was not at all satisfying Les’s explosive anger. The steering wheel was thin and circular so Les’s fists of fury mostly missed it only fueling Les’s animosity.
“Yes, Les free press is good” replied Mortimer condescendingly as he lost patience for Les’s outrageously unpredictable, temper driven, theatrics.
“Les you’ve really outdone yourself this time. I mean, a hit and run Les? seriously why? Why Les do you feel compelled to create not only fine art but unyielding chaos all around you?”
“DON’T be condescending to me you pion!” Les growled, as emotion started to replace logical thought. “That scum of the Earth deserved what he got, and what he got was hit by a car. I WAS DRIVING! SO WHAT?”
“Les for Christ’s sake you tried to drown a critic in the punch bowl. Then you beat another critic of yours with a lawn jockey. NOW you top it all off with a hit and run. Please do tell why, and how this monstrosity came to be.”demanded Mortimer as he took a long draw from a bottle of Pepto Bismol which he kept in a desk drawer for when dealing specifically with Les.
“I was at my opening Deviants of Art, and Phil Edwards from the New Yorker was there. I over heard Phil telling other patrons that my art is over rated and that this was due to my lack of classical training or some shit.”explained Less occasionally stalling as his mind came up with the words faster than Les’s mouth could say them. “This pompous twit had the gaul to dare criticize my work, my work is goddamn invaluable to the art world. My point, is this Mortimer, art is SUBJECTIVE. If art is SUBJECTIVE, why then do I need CRITICS to comment, judge and condemn, my splendid works? Well, I saw that piece of filth Phil walking to his car, and I jumped into a car the valet had just brought around. I crept up behind him, lined up the front right corner of the car with the back of his leg, pounded the pedal to the metal and clipped him with the car. I wasn’t trying to kill the son of a bitch, though being dead would be his greatest accomplishment. I just clipped him to scare the shit out of him, and send him flying through the air. I figured he’d then land and roll across the asphalt. I cannot turn off the fires of my creative passions just because I’m not painting in my studio, it’s not my fault that my artist passion doesn’t translate in real life.”
“You have a good point Les BUT the way you make it leaves a lot to be desired AND NOW you tell me in spite of the already bad situation that you ALSO STOLE A CAR.,” quipped Mortimer like a peeved off parent. “Well, Les what are we going to do about this? You’ve gone to far. I already called in Art Management’s legal team.”
“Fire them for all I care I detest lawyers they’re the art critics of the legal world. Your right Mortimer I’m done with this shit, the art, the openings, the critics. I’ve decided it is time to retire.” Les said sounding rather insane.
“Retire! I don’t care. I’d live longer if you did,” responded Mortimer “But your in real trouble Les. Assault is one thing. Grand theft auto and attempted vehicular homicide is a totally different animal all together.”
“I DON’T CARE Mortimer I’m headed for the Florida Keys. The police can just TRY and locate me in a chain of 1,400 islands. I’m not a moron I’m not going to the obvious spots like KeyWest or KeyLargo or whatever. I’m going to buy one of the little unknown islands to retire to” ranted Les with growing intensity.
“Well, then it was a pleasure, of sorts anyway, working for you and while you are an artist you need to learn to control your artists passions outside of your studio.” Mortimer said in honesty
“Thanks Mortimer for putting up with all my shit and bailing me out countless times,” said Les ambivalently “It’s five o’clock somewhere and thats where you’ll find me.”