Creative Writing – Page 7

FYB Update: A Glimpse Behind The Cloak Part 2: Next Stop The Great Southern Swamp

So Once the Car Crash Chaos finally Calmed Down We were able to Hit the Road out of the Woods headed straight towards the Great Southern Swamp. Though We ended up leaving 3 fucking Horus behind Schedule (I hate being Late its a Pet fucking Peave of Mine) it was Mostly My fault I must Admit. I would go to do Something only to get Distracted along the Way thus Wasting a great deal of Time chasing My own damn Tail as it were.

In All Actuality I can’t complain I mean obviously I could be an Asshole of the Highest Order and Nit Pick something to Bitch about, But why the Hell do that?! Once We left it was smooth fucking Sailing all the Way No Shitty Weather, Traffic Jams, Road Construction, Road Delays, Accidents, Rush Hour Issues, and No Stupid Motherfuckers sitting at a Dead Stop in the Middle the Road (on a Blind Curve ) while Stealing Shit to Deal with it was Damn near Perfect.

Since We weren’t going to get to Where We needed to be until much Later then expected We decided not to get Pissed about it, and instead take Advantage of it by taking Our Sweet Ass Time. Fuck the Runaround, Rushing About, and the Rat Race fuck Them all. It was nice I have to admit not to be so Constricted by the Concept of Time it was quite fucking Peaceful.

We got a Good Nights Sleep and a Chance to Sleep in which is always Nice. After milling around Drinking Coffee to No End My Wife and I met up with Her Best Friend Dozie (and a Good Friend and Ex-Coworker of Mine). The first Order of Business was Lunch as Dozie was just getting off Work by the Time We were ready to Venture Out into the Surrounding Swamp. Since We live Deep in the Woods of The Southern Country We don’t have Certain things You can find Pretty much anywhere fucking Else, and in this Case it was a Deli. No Deli’s in the Boondocks I am afraid to Say.

After Lunch We rather Aimlessly Rode around Town checking out How Our Old Stomping Ground had Changed or Evolved since We got the Hell out of the Breath Southern Swamp. We also made Several purchases of Other Hard to Locate Living in No Man’s Land Items along the Way as Well figuring Why waste a Perfectly Good Opportunity?! As the Day Faded Away into the Oncoming Dark Night My Wife, Dozie, and I prepared Ourselves for a Evening out at The Eagles Our Long Time Favorite Local Dive Bar.

What Dozie was unaware of was that Over Time My Wife and I found a Following of Friendly People who Adore the shit Out of Us especially since We moved several Years Ago. My Wife dropped Me off at the Eagles and went to run to the Bank or some last minute mundane Task, and I went in ahead of Her and Dozie.

The First Person I ran into is a Gentleman Named Hatchet who instantly as He always does (and has for fucking Years) Yelled at the top of his fucking Lungs “HEY IT’S JESUS!”, and Then precedes to Shake My Hand and inadvertently fucking Break it with Drunken Excitement. Now Why Does He Refer to Me as Jesus? Why is My Nickname in General at the Eagles Jesus? Well I’ll leave it Up to You to figure that one Out.

During the Course of the Night I got to visit with My Favorite Eagles Bar Tender of all Fucking Time Audry who ironically was Tending Bar that Night. The New Bar Tender was alright She didn’t neglect anyone or Drag Her Ass in any way, but there was still that awkward Unfamiliarity hanging in the Air like a Lingering Fart. I got to See the Cast of Usual Suspects and Especially My Best Friend Mr. Percy most of All. It was a rather Lively Night at the Eagles which can be quite Low Key when it wants to be. There was Endless Rounds of Jello Shots, Chaotic Karaoke, and Some Alcohol Fueled and Related Auction for All Kinds of Random shit. There was like Your Basic Gift Basket, but Mostly it was Bottles of Booze or Heavily Booze Laced Desserts/Cakes, and the Fireball was Flowing Freely.

The Following Morning I woke up Nice and Early just so I could have the Pleasure of Puking. You know You’ve Partied Your Ass Off to Capacity when You Vomit During OR at The End of the Night. If You wake up and the First fucking thing You do is Vomit You know Last Night You abused the Hell Out of Your Liver, and More than likely You Damn Near did Your Liver in Once and For All. It’s one of Those Times where You wake Up, and say to Yourself Well I may Not be Quitting Drinking for Good, But I am for Quite a While.It’s the type of Hangover that Even when it’s Over it Still Haunts Your Memory.

A Little Later on that Pleasantly Sunny Morning My Wife and I had Brunch with Her Aunt and Uncle along with My Wife’s Younger Cousin and His Wife. Considering the Previous Nights Over Indulgence on My part this Brunch was Particularly Brutal just to Get Through. My Head was Fuzzy, My Eyes were Blurry, and I My Mind was Muddled as a Motherfucker Let Me Tell You. Weirdly at the Same Time it was really Pleasant on some Sick Level I suppose because all said and Done I ultimately enjoyed Myself.

The Restaurant We ate at was a Bit Too Fancy For Me as I’m so fucking LOW Maintenance its an Ongoing Joke.I went with the Family Flow and Ordered a 3 Course Lunch with Various Options in the Appetizer/Main Course/ Dessert Something or Other. The Appetizer I opted for Honestly was the Only fucking Option that sounded like anything I would actually Eat which was Black Bean and Bacon Soup. Did I mention How Hungover I was because that Soup was HEAVY AS FUCK! I mean while it Tasted Splendid as soon as it Landed in Your Stomach it Apparently turns into Instant Cement or at Least thats what fucking Felt Like. The Main Course was Fish so it was Delightful and Light on the Stomach which was still Reeling from the Dense Soup Scenario. The Dessert Deal turned out to be a Selection of Desserts in fucking Shot Glasses which I’m rather Ambivalent about, but thats just Me.

After the Meal was Over Everyone went Their different Ways, and My Wife and I circled around Back to Base Camp. My Wife spent Her time productively Completing Her Continuing Education Courses/Credits for this Year while I on the Other Hand took a Well Needed Nap to Fully Regain My Faculties. It was by by Definition a Power Nap as I awoke Feeling like My Normal fucking Self Again, I was Resurrected in the Land of the Living.

We reconvened that evening around 6 pm when I noticed that a Couple We Knew and were Good Friends with had Texted Us to see if We’d like to stop by Their House for Dinner, and to See the Puppy of Ours They Adopted a Year Back. I would like to take a second to acknowledge that Derrick and Terri are Great Owners, But Bernie (The Dog) turned out to be a Great Dog. Well Behaved, No Bad Habits, Listens to His Owners Etc.

I immediately conferred with my Wife and Texted Derrick and Terri back with an Enthusiastic Hell’s Yes. Unfortunately it turned Out Derrick had been doing Roofing Work that Day, and as Roofing goes He fucked up His Back pretty Bad. So Poor fucking Derrick had to Bail on Dinner to tend to His Beat Up Back, But We still stopped by and Saw Terri ad Bernie, Hung out for a while, Shot the Shit, had a Few Beers, and Laughed a lot. After Our visit We headed over to the Eagles once again to meet up with Mr. Percy and Thank God it was a much Slower Night at The Eagles. I was Happy because the other Night had been Fun as fuck sometimes Relaxing over a Few Drinks beats Partying until Dawn.

We Left the Following Morning after having Breakfast with My Wife’s Older Cousin who was in Town. We Managed to Stay on Schedule this time around and made Great Time. I honestly was a Little Impressed I must say. Again We were lucky as Hell not to have had to Deal with any Traffic/Road Issues like Holiday Traffic or Weekend Traffic for Example. Needless to say it was Splendid Not getting Stuck in some Aggravating bullshit along the Way. I enjoy the Ride because it’s Familiar, BUT Not to the Point of Monotony. This is a Very fucking Difficult Balance to Achieve None the Less Maintain the Test of Time. I find Boredom Deplorable and Truly Hellish in Many Ways so this Delicate Balance is Especially Important in My Mind.

Since We returned Home to the Woods much Earlier than Ever be for decided if We could Pick Up Our Big Dogs Tonight instead of having Wait till After Work the Following Day. It Save Us both Time and Money which I am Always in Favor of. It would just so Happen that even though it was well After Hours the Guy We Board with was willing to Stay Late and gave Us His Cell Number. We called and of course He said come on by which means see You in 45 minutes because again We live in the Middle of No Where Special. We managed to pick up the Big Dogs without to much Hyper Dog Drama except for When Big Dad Dog came flying cross the Front Desk into the Waiting Room.

Once We got Home Everyone Hit the Couch and fucking CRASHED being utterly Worn Out and Thoroughly Exhausted from Our Venture. Road Trips are fucking Fun, But at the same Time there’s Nothing Like Returning Home.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

FYB Update: a Glimpse Behind The Cloke

I apologize for the Last 4 Days of Dead Air for Lack of a Better Term in Our Posting of New Content. Thus it Only seems Fare to Let You know some of the Reasons Why so Please Refer to the Following.

Well it has become Apparent the Stand Off with the Neighbors is Going to be a Real Motherfucker. Being Impatient as Impatient can be I broke down and called My Contractor for Assistance. My Contractor “Fatback” Billy gladly came over with a Big Ass Chainsaw and Deposed of the Mess that consisted of a/the Neighbor’s Tree that had fucking Collapsed onto Our Property Royally fucking Up Park of Our Fence. “Fatback” Billy then Repaired the Fence even though He repeatedly Stated that He wasn’t a Fence Guy, but He’d do His Best. By doing this I had opted to Pay Out of fucking Pocket for the Clean up/Repair Now, and Seek Restitution of Sorts a Bit Later with Said Neighbors when the Timing was Better.

To be Completely Honest the Issue isn’t even about the fucking Money or Any Money whatsoever. As Far as I’m fucking concerned it’s the Sole Principle of the Matter at Hand that is the Important. For Me the Principle of the Matter is No One likes when shit like this Happens because it’s a Huge Pain in the Ass to Remedy Usually. Unfortunately though in this Case it did fucking Happen so Let’s Deal with it like fucking Adults . What I mean by Adult is simply Let’s Try and be Decent while Dealing with the Issue since We’ve Established Previously Sucks.

With that Said Needless to Say the Neighbor’s have been Nothing but Utter and Complete fucking Dicks, I talking Full Blown Full On Assholes of the Highest Caliber. Of Course I’m going to Immediately take Exception to that because if I have to “Play Nice” then So fucking Do You. Thus We find Ourselves Currently in the Eye of a Shiticane for Now at Least. Fucking Neighbors.

On a Brighter and Far Better note We managed to Haphazardly at the Last fucking Minute to Reschedule Our Vacation that We missed it initially Due to an Absolute Asshole Actually Parked in the Middle of the Road. You see After the Accident We got a Rental Car because Out here in The Woods there is NO Public Transportation Or Uber, and Walking Distance is given in Miles. The Only issue with the Rental (which was Actually Pretty Decent as Rentals go) was the Insurance would Only cover it for So Long thus We ultimately needed a New Car to Replace the Wrecked One.

The Process was the Standard Basic Standard of a Pain in the Brain. I do have to say that My Auto Insurance Company did conduct Their business in a Timely and Polite Fashion, and that I truly Appreciate it. So the Day after the Crash Our Auto Insurance sent a Claims Adjuster or The Guy Who Informs You How Fucked Your Car (and Thus You in Turn) Actually Are. This One was an Easy Job for the Claims Adjuster because the Car was Obviously Totaled.

This is where I nearly had a fucking Heart Attack simultaneously with a Massive Stress induced Aneurysm when I find out The Check for the Totaled Car DOESN’T Cover My Wife’s Car Loan. Also to My Wife at that Particular Point COULDN’T Remember if She had or Had Not Bought Gap Insurance when She Purchased the Car (again Honestly I fucking Forgot Too so that didn’t fucking Help Either).

This meant IF My Wife had in Fact Bought the Gap Insurance when it was Offered at the Time of Purchase it would Cover the Remainder of the Loan, and We’d Break Even which was fucking Fine by Us. If though She Hadn’t gotten the Gap Insurance Option We’d still be on the Hook for around $6,000 or So. Again it wasn’t Necessarily the Loss of Money (though it Didn’t fucking Help a lick for fuck’s Sake), but the Principle of the Matter.

What I mean is if the fucking Car is Totaled and the Auto Insurance Guys Report it’s fucking Totaled WHY fuck would I still be Obligated to Pay Off the fucking Loan. The Car is a Complete Loss, Utterly Unrepairable, Yet the Auto Loan Sacks of Shit are Going to make Us Pay Off the Loan in Full for like I said a Car that NO LONGER for all intents and Purposes fucking Exist Anymore. It’s Only Good for Scrap Metal. Talk about a Financial Fuck You. Thank the Universe My Wife did have the Foresight to Purchase Gap Insurance and We narrowly Dodged that Bullet.

Though We were Happy as Hell to Not be Shafted by Unnecessary or Unjust Financial Debt We had just bought the Previous Car less than a Year ago, and Now found Ourselves in the Exact same Place. We had come Full fucking Circle Back to Square One. There was Small But VERY SIGNIFICANT Acceptation this Time Around that was a Bonafide Game Changer.

My Mother as it were had been Away Summering in the North as She is Apt to Do when She was Hit from Behind sitting at a Traffic Light. In the End Her Car was Reported as Totaled because the Impact had Bent the Car’s fucking Frame thus making it a Complete fucking Write Off. Now it is Important for Clarification Purposes that My Mother being the Obsessive Micro Manager that She is God Bless Her DID NOT MAKE AN IMPULSE BUY, it was in Fact an IMPATIENT BUY. The Different being She was so Impatient to Return to the Southern Country to Check in on Everything and Everyone She made a Quick (and Inappropriate) Purchase. She made sure it was a Safe and Reliable Car with Good Gas Mileage and all that Happy Horseshit, BUT She still Longed for Her Recently Lost (Totaled) Car None the Less.

Most People when They By a Car text Pictures and Babble incessantly about it to Everyone under the Sun it Seems, Yet My Mother didn’t. She Texted one Picture of Her New Car with a Caption Reading “My Boring New Car” and “It’s an Ugly Color” for Example. She Then promptly Named the Car Boring in French. All My Mother did was Compare Her New Car to the Old One and Depressively Point out the Various Differences in Options Blah, Blah, Blah. Well when She came and Rescued the Big Dog’s from the Accident Site and Later She gave The Big Dogs and I a ride Home noticed My Mother had started to Once again Point out Things She didn’t like about Her New Car.

The Thing is Last Time My Wife had Bought a Car She had Test Driven the Same Car My Mother had Purchased. The Only reason She didn’t Buy the Exact Same Car was She got a Better Deal Dollar Wise on the Second Car in Consideration. I decided to take a Chance and Informed My Mother that if She didn’t actually like He knew Car (and I was guessing the Idea of a Do Over would make Her fucking Day) that She could Sell it to My Wife.

By the Time We arrived back at Base Camp My Wife had already been dropped off by the Tow Truck Driver on His was to the Local Tow Yard. My Wife Echoed the Exact same sentiment as I had thus really Driving the Idea Home. What can I say other than it Worked the Next Day My Mother was Out Hitting Up Dealerships looking for the EXACT SAME CAR as the one She Lost. The Only Tricky Part was that Particular Make and Model had Discontinued by the Company that made it. Apparently and Get this it was TOO fucking Popular and They Maker’s were making Too Much Money Hand over Fist, but I digress.

Well to make a Long Story a Little Shorter One thing Lead to Another and by the Time We had to relinquish the Rental Car My Mother and My Wife had Worked Out all the Needed Details. As it Turns Out for Reasons that I will Not go into because I find them Tedious My Mother Gave (or in Tax Terms Gifted) My Wife the Car so We now have the Luxury of Not be Bleed By a Long Term Car Loan from a Bunch of Son of a Bitch Bankers.

Speaking of Which When My Mother Finalized the purchase of Her most current Car the Money Man tried to get one Over on My Mother buy Selling Her a Warranty She didn’t Need or Want to the Tune of $400. My Mother was Worn Out at the Time and Made a Note to Double Check this Warranty Bullshit which She did. You must Understand that as Far as Anyone can or could Tell My Mother looks and Behaves like a Classic Little Old Lady, but if You fuck with Her or Her Money then You’re going to End up the One Who gets Fucked. She made just one Phone Call the Following Day to the Car Dealership where She bought the Car, and I have No Clue what the fuck She Said Yet the Reactions She got was Poetic Justice. The Money Man Himself called to Apologize and Immediately Refund My Mothers Money. It didn’t End there as My Mother received several Extremely Apologetic Phone Calls from the Car Dealership’s Management.

Looks like this Post that was Supposed to Cover All of The So Called Bases as Some might be Apt to Say, but I’m going to Split it into 2 Parts since I’m fully aware the Longer the Post the more of a Strain it is On the Eyes and Attentions Span. So Keep Your Eyes out for “Glimpse Behind The Cloak Part 2: Next Stop the Great Southern Swamp.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (42/365)

“Here We are Home at Last!”, said Dizzy Joyfully, “Watch Your Step till I get some Light going.”

Dizzy fumbled with the Lock for a good 3-4 minutes jiggling the Handle and Key alike while Pushing and Pulling at the Door waiting for it to Comply and allow Them Entry. Lee noted the Door was an Actual Antique being made out of Solid Oak Not the Cheap Composite Board Ikea Crap. There was No Cutting Corners for Whoever the Craftsman was who made this Door using Creativity, Determination, Skill, and a whole hell of a lot of Elbow Grease.

You could see the Door was well Worn by Years of Being Opened, Closed, Slammed Shut, Knocked On, Kicked, Swung Open, and the General Test of Time Itself. It showed it Battle Wounds No matter how many Layers of Paint (currently the Door had been Painted a Shitty Shade of Green that resembled the Color of an Old Bowl of Split Pea Soup) Coated it You could still see all the Scratches, Gauges, and Dings the Door had Endured Throughout the Many Years of Service.

Lee couldn’t help but think of How some of the Crappiest Places on Earth could still Hold on to Treasures of Times like the Oak Door. Lee thought it was a Tragedy of Society that Millennials had No Concept of Quality as They were a Part of the New so called “Throw Away Culture.” Back not to Long ago When Lee was a Child Appliances such as Refrigerators and Dishwashers were Built to Last and could go 10 Plus Years before One needed to even consider Replacing it.

Lee believed fully that Capitalism had Cannibalized the Consumer as They Monitized Every Facset of Human Life.Today Products like Appliances and Furniture are so Cheaply Made (as to Keep Profits High as Possible mind You) its designed to Crap out on You. Appliances have a Average Usage Life or approximately 5 Years. The Mass Produced Ikea Furniture thats all the Rage Breaks or Falls Apart in No Time Flat. So in by the End of Your Life Millennia’s will have been Financially Raped into Replacing Products Several Times or More while Wasting a Small Fortune in the Process. Capitalism has Bastardized the word Disposable Lee thought from Paper Plates to Include Any and Every Product You can find in Your Home. Capitalism has Consumed the Consumer Lee though in utter Disgust and Great Contempt.

The same was with the Classic American Hand Made Furniture made by Artisans Who were Truly Masters of Their Craft. Dinning Room Sets, Bed Room Sets, Chairs, Hutches, China Cabinets were Made to Last up, and can up to or Over 100 fucking Years. Antique Furniture had/has Personality since it was Made By Craftsman’s Hands, and Not made of Cheap Flimsy Materials as They’re Mass Produced on a fucking Assembly Line in some fucking Factory. Just another innocuous Production Plants Pumping Out Product as Fast as Humanly Possible with No regard to Quality Nor Aesthetics. Lee couldn’t get His head around it. Why would anyone Settle for Connivence over a Crap Load of Cash?!

Now a days Millennials are completely Oblivious to the Fact Their Ignorance is being Exploited like a Son of a Bitch as They are completely Blinded by Advertising, and Brainwashed By Consumerism. They use something then the Sub Par Piece of Shit Breaks, and They just go Out and Spend more Money replacing it. Instead of Wondering Why the hell They are Wasting so much Money Unnecessarily Millennials just Shrug, assume thats “Just the Way it Is”, and Fork Over Fistfuls of Cash for Shoddy Craftsmanship and Cut Rate Materials. Lee thought of it as if Someone came up to You and asked if You’d like to by some crap at Their Yard Sale which most Everyone wouldn’t, BUT They were doing exactly that every time They bought shit for there Homes like Poorly constructed Furniture or Second Rate Appliances/Electronics.

“Are You going to come in or Wait to be Mugged in the Hallway?!” Dizzy asked having already Vanished into the Cloak of Darkness that Enshrouded His Apartment.

“Yeah I coming since I don’t feel the need to be Sexually Assaulted in the Stair Well by some Bastard on Bath Salts.” replied Lee in a Bitter Half Joking tone of Voice.

Tune in Next Week for the Next Bowel Irritating Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (43/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis:Professional People Watcher (41/365)

Without saying another word Dizzy went bounding up the Stairs towards the Unresponsive Junkie. Once He reached the Junkie he shoved Him to one side and as the Junkie slumped to the right Dizzy literally stepped over the Junkies shoulder. Dizzy took a second to light a cigarette before placing His boot between the Junkie’s shoulder Blades, and shoved Him unceremoniously down the flight of Stairs.

The Junkie came tumbling down Ass over Elbows in a Flurry of Flailing Limbs finally hitting the Landing were Lee was standing. The Junkie lay there in a crumpled pile like a Wad of Chewed Up Bubble Gum. Lee frozen momentarily in Shock as He stared down at the Junkie wondering what the fuck He should do about it. Lee definitely wasn’t about to call the fucking Cops that’s for sure They’d just give Dizzy and Him a Hard Time Hassling Them Unnecessarily because They weren’t Happy about cleaning Up and After a Scummy Junkie. Lee did wonder if He should at least call 911 and have some Medical Professionals handle it. Lee also wasn’t sure if He Should He say anything and just continue to follow Dizzy to His Apartment?!

“If You’re afraid He’s Dead check His pulse or see if He’s still breathing. I assure You He’s fucking Fine.” Dizzy said with total confidence. Lee glanced up at Dizzy who was leisurely taking Prolonged drags of His Cigarette with an air of Boredom.

Lee landed over and gingerly took hold of one of the Junkies wrists and was relieved to feel a Pulse and Not a Fresh Corpse. The Junkie suddenly let out a Low and Hollow Moan that startled the hell out of Lee and made Him Jump back away from the Junkie’s contorted body that lay only a few feet from Him. Lee could hear Dizzy Laughing deeply as if He had just heard the funniest fucking Joke ever Told. Lee shot Dizzy a “Fuck You” Scowl as He failed to find the Humor in the Situation.

“I fucking TOLD YOU, I told You He was Fit as a Fiddle. A Dope Addicted Fiddle that just fell Head long down a Flight of Stairs it’s a bit fucked up but Fine in General.” Dizzy Said with a Calm Confidence.

Lee slid past the Battered Body of the Junkie and resumed His Journey to Dizzy’s Apartment. Lee was annoyed that Dizzy hadn’t given Him any sort of Heads Up about the Living Conditions located in the Confines of This Skid Row Style Hotel. Lee didn’t harbor any Empathy for the Junkie He just wish He had been made aware so He wouldn’t have to worry about being fucked with by the Cops or Possible Arrested Himself. Thats the exact kind of bullshit He didn’t need in His life Lee kept telling Himself over and over again in His Head until He realized Dizzy was Still Talking as They went.

“You want to know HOW I knew that Junkie fuck was just Fine and Dandy? I’ll tell You it’s quite simple You see it like a Car Crash. If your about to inevitable be in an Auto Accident They say the Best thing to do is Go Limp. Which goes against EVERY Natural Instinct for Self Preservation instilled in Humans since Day One. If You try and Brace Yourself say by putting Your Hands on the Dashboard all Your guaranteeing is if You live that You’ll have Two fucking Broken Arms.”said Dizzy in a Tone of Voice that reminded Lee of an Educational TV Show Narrator.

“Thats some seriously fucked up Real Life Shit right there.” respond Lee flatly as He still hand’t fully come to grips with the whole Junkie incident, and was currently wondering what Other Oddities way lay in wait. Lee generally didn’t give a flying fuck about Anything as long as He knew what it was or what was going On that was all. It seemed like a normal request to Him at any rate.

“It’s like when Your watching one of those Extreme Skiers who attempt to Ski down some insane Monstrous Mountains at a fucking 65 degree angel and shit, and then They wipe the fuck out falling Hundreds to Thousands of Feet as You watch Them Flopping around like a Rag Doll. It’s the exact same Principle since initially the Skier is knocked out and thus goes completely Limp. It’s the only way Any of those crazy motherfuckers can do that shit without Dying when They Fall.” said Dizzy ignoring Lee’s suddenly sullen mood.

Be Sure To Tune in for Next Weeks Lactose Intolerant Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (42/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober (12:33 am)

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

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (39/365)

In All due Favor Lee had literally been the Last Person He Knew to Buy a Cell Phone because in the Beginning All He had to do was Borrow a Friends or Families Members or Even just Some Stranger on the Street. Eventually Lee Realized Cell Phones had integrated Themselves so Deep into American Society They had become an Actual fucking Necessity of Modern Life.

Unfortunately for Lee once He took His First Sip of the Cell Phone Kool Aid He couldn’t Stop Drinking it to save His fucking Life. Lee couldn’t help feeling like a Struggling Drug Addict Who wants Nothing more than to Finally Get Clean, BUT Who couldn’t Stop Using No matter How hard They try. Lee felt the same way about His Cell Phone He hated it, it fucked up His Daily Life with CONSTANT Interruptions and Annoyances, Yet on the Other Hand He believed He couldn’t Survive without it.

“GODDAMN IT!”exclaimed Dizzy with intense Annoyance that was Bordering on Anger, “I threw all My fucking Change at goddamn Dancing Dave.”

Dizzy the became Rifling through His pockets with the Speed and Coordination of a Drunken Pick Pocket. Dizzy kept Stabbing His hands haphazardly into His pockets like a Japanese Fisherman Harpooning a Whale while simultaneously going Insane. Lee watched for a while as Dizzy teetered on the Verge of Losing all Self Control before handing Him a Quarter.

“Jesus all this bullshit for a Quarter.” complained Dizzy with a great deal of contempt for the Situation. Dizzy jammed the Quarter into the Pay Phone Coin Slot like He was fucking Force Feeding it Spare Change Solely out of Spite.

As Lee’s eyes adjusted to the overbearing Gloom in the Minimal Lighting of the Slum of a Hotel He noticed the Entire Wall that the Pay Phone was Mounted on was tagged up with so much Graffiti You could see the Overlapping Layers. It appeared to Lee that the Medium of Choice for the Small Army of More Vandal then Graffiti Artists was Sharpe Markers. This seemed more of a Pastime for People Standing in the Lobby fucking around While Using the Pay Phone that was so Old the Numbers had almost been completely worn off with Countless Years of Use.

The Collection of Graffiti that Lined the Lobby Walls was Truly Exquisite not Just in Sheer Volume, but in Content as Well. There were the Standard Dirty Limericks, Crude Illustrations of Genitalia, Personal Insults, Obscene Comments, Angry Exclamations, Anti Authority Statements, Proclamations of Love and Hate, Street Artists Tags, Daily Observations, Bragging, Boasting, Shit Talking, Adult Humor, Replies written in Response to one Person by Another, Self Promotion, Violent Imagery, and Social Statements this Wall had it All and Then Some for Sure.

Be Sure to Tune in for Next Weeks Hair Raising Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (40/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober (12:45 am)

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watched (38/365)

I Apologize that I wasn’t Able to get this Posted Yesterday when it was Supposed to Be. I had one Last Fight I had to Finish Last Night, and Unfortunately it was in a Different Time Zone. Sorry for the Inconvenience.

It was then that Lee’s Attention was drawn to the Wall to His Left where there was a Window in the Wall covered with a Thick Pane of Bullet Proof Glass. The Window had the Classic Narrow Opening at the Very Bottom to allow for Money or Messages to be passed Between the Desk Clerk and The Customer. It reminded Lee exactly of the Type of Window You see at Gas Stations, Connivence Stores, and Liquor Stores in really shitty Neighborhoods. This reasserted Lee’s belief that this was Not Your Typical Holiday Inn.

“Grisly, HEY GRISLY! Where You at? Hurry Your Old Ass Up Here Guy.” Blurted Dizzy rather Rudely as apparently since walking in the Door Dizzy had become instantly Annoyed.

Lee stood patiently not sure what exactly was going on, but was satisfied watching it Unfold. There was a Long Prolonged Creaking straight out of a Halloween Sound Effects CD. The Creak was followed by a great deal of Shuffling, Wheezing, and the sound of Someone talking to Themselves under Their Breath. An Ancient looking Old Man finally came into view and Lee couldn’t help thinking to Himself that the Elderly Man could have been Danny Devito’s Older UnKnown Brother. This was due to the fact the Old Man stood hovering just under 5 feet tall, was quite Portly, and had Classic Male Pattern Baldness on top of it all.

“What? What do You want Now? God Almighty You’re all Pains in My wrinkled Old Ass.” griped Grisly sounding as if He was speaking with a Throat encased in Flem which gave His voice a Wet Gargling Tone.

“Listen You Old Cantankerous Coot I just want to see if I got any Mail today that’s all Don’t go Dying over it.” replied Dizzy who upon seeing Grisly had relaxed back to Normality. Dizzy seemed to be getting a Legitimate kick out of His interaction with Grumpy Old Grisly.

Grisly took His sweet as Time looking under the Counter looking for any Possible Mail that there was for Dizzy. After a excessive amount of Fumbling around Grisly stood up and announced that there was in fact No Mail for Dizzy, and then went on to Complain about being Disturbed over Nothing.

“You got a Quarter?” asked Dizzy matter of factly holding out His hand like a Panhandler.

“For What?” Lee said Questioningly as He wondered what a Quarter was even good for Now A Days.

“A fucking Phone Call, I have to Call for Our Ride remember???” replied Dizzy dumbfounded by the Question.

“Use Your fucking Cell Phone like everybody else then.” said Lee growing agitated by it all.

“I don’t have One. I refuse to buy a fucking Cell Phone, and will NEVER own one of those fuckers as Long as I live thats for Sure.” said Dizzy Emphatically, “You see when You buy a fucking Cell Phone You automatically Forfeit Your fucking Privacy. I don’t want every asshole under the fucking Sun to be able to Reach Me or at least Annoy the shit outta Me whenever They wish regardless of Where I am. And thats not all either because with goddamn Cell Phones everyday assholes can also Text You, E-mail You or Skype You in addition to just Calling You. Fuck and That I want NON of it, and Why Should I? The Last thing this World needs is another Cell Phone Dependent Zombie stumbling around Obliviously with Their heads in Their fucking Phones all damn Day.”

In Spite of how absolutely Odd and Insane Dizzy’s Anti-Cell Phone Position was Lee understood perfectly. In fact He wished He had the Balls the Throw His Cell Phone in the fucking Toilet to Drown the Damnable Thing Once and for All.

Be Sure To Tune in for Next Weeks Amazing Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (39/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (37/365)

“Filthy, come On Bud You’re blocking the fucking Doorway.” said Dizzy with a Hint of Frustration and Concern.

“Must have been Rotated by The Serpents in My Sleep is all.” replied the Bum in a Gravely Growl like Bear Yawning after Rising from Hibernation.

“Sure Thing Filthy I’m sure it was the Sleep Serpents and What have You just Please get the fuck out of the Way.” said Dizzy growing more Demanding by the Minute.

The Bum strained and sighed as He dragged Himself to His feet. He then peered around on the Ground collecting His various Belongings into a Pile after which He then Inspected with Great Concern that Each and Every Item was accounted For. Once the Bum had completed His process He inquired about a Possible Green Assistance Program Payment.

Lee had absolutely No Clue what the Man was referring too, that was before Dizzy smacked His arm to get His attention. Lee watched as Dizzy pulled a Couple of crinkled Up Dollar Bills from his Wallet, and a Joint from behind His Ear which He then promptly handed to the Man. Lee looked at Dizzy who Nodded His Head Slightly and motioned towards the Man by Rolling His Eyes with the Classic “I’ll Explain this shit Later, Now JUST DO IT.” Expression Plastered across His face. So still trying to process the whole situation Lee forked over Five Dollars adding He wasn’t Holding.

“Thank You Sires for Your Divine Tribute to this truly Down Trodden Old Soul. Go Be on Your Way Now Royals the Court will not Wait as The War Tribunal is Chomping They are Chomping at the Bit. They want to Cry Havoc and Release Their Dogs of War Upon the World, and Revel in the Retribution!!,” Hollered the Homeless Man in a Grand Fashion while Bowing Ceremoniously Ushering Lee and Dizzy into the Apartment Building.

Dizzy followed closely Behind Dizzy as They entered the Cramped Little Lobby which must have Measured a mere 10 feet by 10 feet and Not a Hair more. There was a Bare Light Bulb suspended from the Low Lying Lobby Ceiling that Swung ever so Slowly back and Forth flickering every so Often which Lee found to be a Bit Unsettling to say the Least.

The Floor was so Gritty from the Layer Upon Layer of Compounded Dirt and Grim it felt like walking on fucking Sandpaper. The Walls were Painted in a Shade of Sickly Olive Green that reminded Lee of a Defunct Prison, a Mental Hospital Throw Back from the fucking 60’s, or perhaps an Abandoned Military Facility.

The Paint was Not Only Faded and caked with Filth it was Cracked and Chipping off all over the fucking Place. For all Intents and Purposes the Lobby Didn’t resemble that of an Legitimate Apartment Building, but that of a fucking Abandoned and Decaying State Run Institution that had been fucking Shut Down and Forgotten About all those Many, Many Years Ago.

Lee was beginning to Suspect that This Apartment Building as Dizzy claimed was in Fact a Shady Run Down Fleabag Hotel where You can Rent Rooms by The Hour, and Who’s Residents consisted of Late Stage Alcoholics Drinking Themselves to Death, Junkies of All Kinds, Mentally Ill People whose Family as well as Society had Left Behind, Petty Low Level Criminals and Thugs, and Wards of The State.

Be Sure to Catch Next Weeks Riveting Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (38/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober (Posted 1:33 AM)

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (36/365)

Note To Readers: I apologize for This Installment of LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER being a Day Late as Time got Away from Me. Again I Apologize for the Delay.

As soon as The Quarter came to Rest Dancing Dave bent over Painfully Slow, and Picked it Up. He then all of a Sudden Came Alive like Frankenstein’s Monster with 150,000 Volts of Electricity running through it. Dancing Dave flashed a Robotic Grin and Started to Dance right there on the Corner. This however wasn’t a Dance per Say as it Resembled An Irish Riverdance Style Jig as it were.

Dancing Dave kept Both arms rigidly Locked at His Sides while His Legs and Feet pranced about Like a Tap Dancer on a Cocaine Bender. It reminded Lee of the Crazy Kung Fu Films He watched as a Kid on Sunday Afternoons Growing Up. Dancing Dave’s Entire Routine lasted Only about a Minute before Dancing Dave Stopped and Returned to His Statuesque State.

Dizzy promptly Lobbed another Quarter at Dancing Dave You then preformed the Same sort of Short and Furious Foot Work.

“I could fucking do this All Day. Some People might say its a waste of Money or some similarly Lame shit, BUT I rather spend My Change here on the Corner with Dancing Dave then dumping My Spare Change into a fucking Coin Star like all the Other Lemmings.” said Dizzy rather Triumphantly as If He had just made the Final Argument that Won some Prestigious Debate.

They watched Dancing Dan until He was Done, and presided to Their Final Destination being Dizzy’s Apartment. It was several more Blocks until They arrived leaving Lee to contemplate How Different Peoples Definitions of Everyday Words Differed Greatly. If the Roles had been reversed Lee would have Invited Dizzy, and then informed Him it was a rather long Walk or pErhaps He’d used the Word Hike instead of Walk. Apparently Dizzy on the Other Hand thought this Lengthy Treck was Nothing more than an average Walk.

“Ah Here We are Home Shitty Home.” Announced Dizzy as the Pair stopped in Front of a Old 6 Story Brick Apartment Building. There was a Homeless Man who reeked of Stale Beer and Staler Urine fast asleep in the Doorway blocking the Actual Door. Dizzy unceremoniously kicked at the Bum several times to No Avail as the Bum Slumbered on Undeterred by the Kicking.

“Fuck All.” sighed Dizzy under His Breath looking around in Frustration. Dizzy tossed about a Bunch of Old Newspapers, Empty Beer Cans, Discarded Cigarette Butts, and other assorted Litter laying around the Still Sleeping Bum. Dizzy Located at Last what He was so Desperately Searching for with Great and Obvious Annoyance. It was a Half Empty Pint Bottle of Maddog 20/20 Grape Flavored Fortified Wine.

Dizzy using His bottom of His T-shirt to Unscrew the Bottle Cap and Then Lowered the Bottle until it was Directly under the Slumbering Bum’s Nostrils. The perviously comatose Bum began to Return to Reality emerging from the Depths of His Drunken Oblivion.

Tune In Next Week For The Next Pulse Racing Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (37/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

(*Note: Clay, Happy Anniversary of Your Birth Bud.)

Everything is Coming up R̶o̶s̶e̶s̶ Crack Roses

Once upon a time, I used to be that guy that would check the internet for random holidays and annoy the shit out of people celebrating them.

National Cupcake Day? Sounds good to me.

National Piss Off Your Co-Worker Day? Why limit that to one day? I did this by breathing every single day. I once got poked in the eye by a female co-worker for the simple reason of me doing my job. Got a nifty pair of goggles by that is another tale.

National Prostitutes Day- I used to celebrate this but not anymore. I don’t think I’m still for sale but I sure as hell am not crusty enough to be buying yet.

So this week I am going to proclaim National Crack Cocaine Week. I am not really sure why it should be this week. I mean Bobby Brown was born in February and Whitney Houston was born in August. The crack mayor from the 1990s Marion Barry was born in March.

So why Crack Week? Why should it be right now? All of my actions this week have led me to crack. I have not personally smoked crack in more than a decade, nor do I have any burning desire to do so. Yet if I were pulled over earlier this week by a cop I would have quite a bit of difficulty explaining myself. My truth is their fiction.

It all started so innocently. Boy meets boy. Boys get weed. Boys smoke a bong hit. Boy gets a bit too high. Boy asks what is in this. Boy gets told freebase. Boy is older than the internet so he has no clue. Innocence gone.

Boy hits a car going 2 miles per hour. Lady in other car has a hissy fit. Cops come. Boy bats his eyes and pleads innocence. Cop tells boy (me) to go fuck my friend. I say no he’s not into me. Cop says your friend wants it real bad. Friend doesn’t believe me. Cop then flicks his tongue in and out at us in a manner that reminded me of Gene Simmons. Friend believes me.

So that is my history. That is my first time. I know some of you will say freebase is not crack to which I say YOU ARE A CRACKHEAD.

Back to the present……

I had a rather unfortunate event with my glass bong last weekend. I yanked it from underneath my kitchen cabinet directly upward and destruction was upon me.

Then at the same time I somehow threw out the only screen I had for it into the garbage. I checked my two faucets. They were barren of screens. So now logic would dictate I just buy a screen with the bong but no. I just bought a bong by itself.

Then I was just down to some shake left in my bag o’ weed. So instead of going back to where I bought the bong I thought oh I should just buy some Chore Boy. In my head I remember it as not having so many holes in it. So I threw my shake in there with the Chore. It utterly failed. I did have a flashback to smoking crack, not an urge per-say, just well Chore Boy does have a unique taste on its own.

So now I’m stuck with this.

At least if a random crackhead comes out of the woods and somehow gets into my apartment they will have something useful to steal. I’m seriously considering sticking it in a bowl with 1000 pennies so they’d have another amusement. Copper for the win BABY!!!

So then this new bong had a stem I did not like. (I did not break the old stem). It was too long and thin. So I decided to execute it in my sink. I thought it would break into a million pieces but instead I ended up with this. The STEMASAURUS!!!

By SpaceDog