Tag: getting even

Growing Up & Getting Even

Phil never felt the need to grow up. Thats not to say He wasn’t aware he was going to get old and one day die because Phil was quite aware of this. For His entire childhood Phil had been told that People graduate High School, GoTo Collage, Graduate with a Degree, Get a Job, Get Married, Buy a House, Have Kids, Commit to a Career, Work, Grow old, Retire, and Die shortly there after.

This plan for ones life was absolutely unappealing to Phil. Phil didn’t want to live a Ridged , and Pre Structure Life, Phil was far too Abstract for all that traditional Social Norms Nonsense. Phil was what People refer to as a Free Spirit, a Person Who walked to the Beat of Their Own Drum, and Cut from a Different Cloth. It all inevitably  all lead to the fact most Friends/Family of Phil’s all agreed He suffered from a wicked case of Peter Pan Syndrome.

Peter Pan Syndrome isn’t a real Syndrome like Downs mind You. Its some stupid bullshit that Conformists created to define Those Who walked free from the Flock. PPS simple means that a Person for whatever reason(s) doesn’t grow up to be what is commonly called Mature.

   

The way Phil saw it Mature was just a fancy way of saying falling in line. Why should He watch what He was Saying?! Who gives a shit if something is “Not what People Do”?! Why not do something Unusual?!

Phil truly felt that if He was born a totally unique one of a kind and that there was no one exactly like Him Why would He then opt to Act, Dress, Behave,and Live Life like Everyone fucking Else?! Be a Leader Not a Lemming was Phil’s personal motto since He was 13 years old.

So Phil did in fact Graduate from High School, and gave Collage a Try. Collage was far more free flowing than High School had been, BUT Phil couldn’t seem to figure out a Educational Path to Follow.

   

Since Collage was’t in Phil’s future He did the Only Other thing He could do ACCORDING to His Parents, Family, Teachers, Guidance Counselors, and all Other Authority Figures.

It took next to No Time for Phil to realize He detested Working for Another. Phil always had a Extremely Strong Aversion to ANY AND ALL AUTHORITY FIGURES. Just like other People Phil resented Someone having the Power and control over Him, BUT unlike the Others Phil didn’t hide His feelings just the opposite.

Phil was VERY Outspoken about his Views, Opinions, and General Thinking. Phil didn’t have this fucking “Filter” as They say though Phil always thought Filters were for fucking Pools not People.

   

One Day Phil decided to relocate to Florida as He hated Cold fucking Weather with a passion, and there was nothing keeping Phil tied down as He wasn’t married, No Kids, Didn’t own a House or Business, wasn’t attending Collage, and He had come to hate pretty much everyone in His Home Town of Phukuville. Thus Phil could simple up and move with little notice or planning involved.

Once Phil made it to Florida He settled in Orlando renting a Small Apartment in a Cheaply Built Apartment Building off of Orange Blossom Trail. Phil’s crappy Apartment had one perk if You will as it was just a mere 8 minutes from Disney World.

Phil needed work quick to get some positive cash flow coming in. Phil first took a job as a Short Order Cook at a Country Themed Restaurant call The Black Eyed Pea. The Black Eyed Pea is essentially a Poor Man’s 3rd rate Cracker Barrel rip off. Phil had a blast partying with His coworkers, BUT inevitably Phil ended up Quitting on the Spot on Day due to the fact He felt the Manager was just being a dick for the sake of being a dick.

   

Phil then took a Job as a Telemarketer and absolutely hated everything about the Job. His employer was some vaguely shady company with a token cliche name referencing America. The hours were odd, and the pay was less than appealing. Phil didn’t speak to His coworkers as He felt They were all fucking Basket Cases, had legit Mental Health issues, had Drug issues, or some sort of unscrupulous Scumshit (a Low Life Piece of Shit).

When Phil got so sick of the Job that He wanted to Burn the fucking Call Center Down decided to just never go back fuck’em. After that Phil eked by one His meager savings, and small loans from Family Members. Finally the Bank Account ran dry and there was No More Family to ask for a Loan Phil had a moment of clarity.

Phil went out bright and early the next morning to purchase a Newspaper. Phil then went home and proceeded to open the paper to the Classifieds where something absolutely amazing. Phil saw an Advertisement for Help Wanted at Disney World, and this NEVER HAPPENS. The reason that a Help Wanted ad was so rare it was like spotting a fucking Bigfoot riding on the back of a Unicorn was this.

First and foremost NO ONE currently Employed by Disney World would quite unless They HAD NO OTHER CHOICE BUT TO DO SO. Why You ask? Simple. Disney World payed REALLY WELL and the Benefits were fucking UNREAL. Second the rarest of occasions that a Job at Disney World did open up it was filled almost instantly. Hiring at Disney World is identical to the Auditions for American fucking Idol as in HUNDREDS of People Apply.

Taking the Want add as a sign Phil boarded the first Bus headed to Disney World. Once Phil arrived it took Him 90 fucking minutes to locate where the Hiring Office actually was as Disney World is Big as Hell.

   

In spite of the massive delay in locating the Hiring Office Phil was the first one there as the Office was just opening. Phil was released as he had hailed ass through the Parks and all because as He was looking for the Hiring Office He say a multitude of Other People doing the same. Perhaps this was part of the Hiring Process Phil wondered as sometimes Employers do weird shit like that to see You is determined and Who preservers.

The Job was for a Wild West Restaurant Actor which was described to Phil in the following way. There was a Huge Wild West Themed Restaurant in one of the several Disney World Parks that had Actors working there in addition to the Servers and Kitchen Staff. Actors/Actresses dressed as Cowboys in 18th century Wild West Attire and Acted out various Storylines.

   

NOW THIS WAS NO DINNER THEATER At Least NOT in the Conventional Sense. Unlike normal Dinner Theaters were Dinners filled a Dinning room and the Actors put on They’re performance on a Stage. There was No Stage at the Wild West Restaurant.

Instead the Actors and Actresses preformed the set Stories/Story Lines while roaming through out the Entire Restaurant among the Dinners. And this being a Wild West Theme there were Bank Robberies, Foot Chases, Ho Downs, Town Meetings, and Yes Gun Fights happening around the Visitors as They ate.

Phil aced the interview which was far from surprising as Phil was blessed with the Gift of Gab,and could seriously turn up the Charm when He needed too. Phil was given the Job as “Cowboy ” who would do all sort of cool things from playing Poker at a Table mixed in with the Diners or Having full blow Gun Fights. The Roles He’s play would change Daily to keep it fresh for the Visitors and more Interesting for Actors and Actresses.

   

Time ticked by as the weeks turned into Months and Phil feel head over heels for His official Job as a Fictional Cowboy. He had money in the Bank. He moved to a much nicer (but still cheaply constructed) 2 Bedroom Town House. He bought a New Car. Life was good.

Christmas came around and for the very first time in Phil’s life he mailed out Christmas cards. Phil had never put much thought into shit like Christmas Cards because they didn’t register as important a thing as they did for other People. So Phil hit up the local Hallmark Store and bought a slew of Christmas Cards.

Phil headed home and started filling out the Christmas Cards He had purchased to send to ALL His Friends and Family back home as well as Several Other Key People (one being for example His High School Principle Mr. Witless) As soon as He was done the last one Phil mailed them immediately without hesitation.

   

When Phil’s Seasons Greeting Christmas Cards arrived to His Entire Family, Every One of His Friends, and Some Others (His first Boss Dick Pickler from Samuel Goody’s a Chain of Commercial Record Stores) They all happily oped the envelope, opened the card, took a deep breath, and read…..

Hello and Happy Holidays Assholes,

For years You all told Me relentlessly time and time again to Grow up, Act My Age and Get a Job. Well I’m a full grown Adult now ,and I have a full time Job with Excellent Pay/Benefits.

What is My Job? What do I Do?

I dress up in a Authentic Cowboy Costume and Play Cowboys & Indians for 12 hours 4 fucking Days a week. Thats what the fuck I do for a Living so Fuck Your Bad Advice, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Shitheads!

  See Ya Later PHIL!

Thanks for Reading,

   By Les Sober

The Bastard Brothers of BarFly

Back in the day when I was a real son-of-a-bitch I had the great displeasure of knowing The Bastard Brothers of Barfly for a few miserable months. First off BarFly barely constitutes a town out in “the boonies” of TCM. BarFly is such a tiny,tiny bankrupt micro town its not even a small dot on the map, and  the people’s  families/friends of BarFly residents received enthusiastic emails when the town got a 2nd traffic light for Christ’s sake. As you can imagine there isn’t diddly shit for the youth of BarFly to do but drink, fuck, vandalize, smoke weed, loiter and drive around the rural landscape of nothingness that is BarFly.

The Bastard Brothers are a classic example of the youth of BarFly, but I’m sure by now BarFly has developed or died providing a much more active environment. The older brother was named Bell-End who was the most transparently fake as fuck person I have ever run across in my chaotic travels.

This story unfolds in a time before smart phones and social media when Headbangers still existed in diminishing tribes but where a dying breed since Seattle ejaculated Grunge music and flannel in the face of America. Now Bell-End was a wannabe metalhead he had the long hair, played guitar, smoke’n drank, wore jeans with torn knees, and a lame denim vest (a jacket he had cut the sleeves off of, he missed the memo stating sleeve removing is for t-shirts not jackets the moron) covered with band patches (such as Metallica, Motorhead, Anthrax etc.) ultimately he was a shitty sheep in metal clothing. Not only that but he has a condescending, egotistical, snide “I’m gods gift to the fucking world” smarter than all attitude ,but in reality he was just a lame legend in his own minuscule mind.

His younger brother Dingus was not any better then his big brother accept he was a scumbag of a different shitty color. Dingus has short man’s insecurities all Napoleon complex and shit because the guy is 5 foot nothing. Dingus dropped out of high school in the 10th grade to hangout 24/7 attached at the hip with a scummy emo goth chick named Slutica When I say attached at the hip I mean it in the most extreme stereotypical manner, you NEVER saw one without the other being no more than 3 feet away like the pair of codependent cocksuckers they still are.

This particular cool fall evening I was loitering my balls off outside the one and only connivence store/ gas station in BarFly called the Bub’s Gas’n Grub in the entirely vacant lot somewhere around 8 pm or so. My buddy Slaytanic who had be relentlessly hounding the pay phone (yes they too still existed in limited numbers as cell phones evolved society) trying to find something, anything to do other than what we were currently up to. Slaytanic finally reached The Bastard Brothers on his mental rolodex and found out the two douche bags had a party ball of Schidt. The Brothers also claimed to have in their possession a bag of Northern Lights so if we needed something to do Slaytanic and I could stop by The Brother’s house since their parents were off visiting relatives. After a brief no brainer consultation Slaytanic and I were walking our way over to The Bastard Brother’s parents place.

Once Slaytanic and I arrived Bell-End announces that the two twats had decided to charge everyone $20 to party. This was beyond stupid as fuck for two key principals 1 being imposing a last minute party tax is like a bullshit cover charge, and we’re in BarFly not NYC. The 2nd principal being the Brother’s claim to marijuana fame (Yes again there wasn’t ANY legal weed medical or otherwise.) which was blatant bullshit. There was not a chance in all the religious hells the 2 twits could have gotten their grubby hands on Alaskan high grade shit. What The Brother’s had was what everybody had Mexican brick weed which is very low quality shit (especially by todays standards), and were simply lying to try to warrant their $20 turd tax. Not to mention this was the farthest thing from a party as it was the 2 Bastard Brothers, Slaytanic, myself and one other person who also was a good friend of mine named Space Dog.

It was not just the fact I was hanging at the home of 2 colossal cockbangers but it was the surprise last second tax that just royally chapped my ass, and thus kicked off my rampage of drunken revenge. I had had enough at this point of the to Bastard Brothers with their endless torrent of complete horse shit and even shittier personalities. To get the ball rolling I decided to pound beers like an alcoholic yeti until they went down like water. The entire group adjourned to the backyard at one point to smoke the alleged (and yet totally fake ass) Northern Lights aka dirty ditch weed. After smoking it was back to slamming beers like I was trying to keep Schidt beer from going into bankruptcy until the beer finally ran out. We had been hanging out in the Bastard Brother’s garage but without beer our rag tag group of miscreants headed inside to the basement, thats when I knew the shit was going to reach absolute apeshit levels.

In the interest of time and due to the fact I can’t remember the minor details I present you with a list of pertinent highlights.

  1. I sat down on the crappy couch in the basement (which is where we ended up) propping my foot on the coffee table while holding onto an imaginary steering wheel. When Slaytanic questioned what I was doing exactly I respond by damn near yelling “I’m DRIVING my car MOTHERFUCKER you gonna get in or what?!”
  2. I walked over to the out dated tv with an archaic VCR on top of it. Once I reached the VCR i flipped it upside down and proceeded to start unplugging cords by ripping them forcefully from their various attachments. Again when asked by Slaytanic what the hell I was up to I glared at him and demanded to know “How do you get into this thing?!!!”
  3. In the drunk urinary tradition I wondered over to the water heater and promptly started pissing all over it as well as the floor.
  4. I violently and voraciously vomited in the kitchen sink clogging the holy hell out of it with chunks of regurgitated fish sticks (I had at this time managed to escape from the confines of the basement and was freely walking around The Brother’s parent’s house.)
  5. I was quickly escorted back to the basement where I stumbled into The Brother’s Mother’s at home pottery making shop. Turned out she was really into making clay pots and shit as a relaxing hobby. Now the mother had lined the walls with those cheap rickety metal shelves (not to mention the cheap selves where lined up around the room not just against the wall). They were the kind you see in industrial warehouses anyway she used them for storing her clay pots in various stages of completion . I decided I needed to sit down so I attempted to sit but ran into a serious issue. I tried to sit on one of the shelves but my ass and lower back got sort of stuck so I got trapped in a squatting position. When I stood up I incidentally shoved the self back (thanks Einstein ya dick) and the entire book shelve of clay pots came crashing down in a hailstorm of homemade havoc. Every one of those pots hit the cement basement floor and exploded sending clay fragments flying in every direction.
  6. The next morning after crashing in the basement I went upstairs to make the bladder gladder when I ran into The Bastard Brother’s parents The Dullards. Now the Dullard’s had arrived home an hour or so before our encounter, and they were staring intently at me as if to ask “Who is this bum in our house?!” I hate people staring at me period not to mention I also was insanely hungover and no longer gave a shit about any of it. I turned my head as I passed them on the way to the crapper I stated in brutally blunt honesty “What me? Your sons are the real assholes here.” In all do favor I was made aware before hand that The Dullard’s hated my specific race so thats why I gave them a face full of shit, fuck’em their racists.

Around the crack of noon Slaytanic, Space Dog and I walked off into the sun rise never to see The Bastard Brothers or their racist parents The Dullards ever again, and I for one couldn’t be happier.