Tag: Intoxication

Living In A Small Town: Friday Night Down At Timeout Tavern

There’s a Saying that “There is No Pace to Hide in a Small Town.”, and the Saying couldn’t be Truer. It’s Not the Geographical Confines that make Hiding Hard it’s the Fact that the cliche is True Everyone Knows Everyone Else. Not only that but They know all About Their extended Family, Achievements, Down Falls, The Good, The Bad, and all the Bullshit In-between. You see Gossip is the Social Currency of the South that the Majority of the Population Banks On. I’m Not necessarily bitching Here because I knew this before Ever Moving to the Souther Country, and as such Deemed it as Something that comes with the Territory.

Last Year Timeout Tavern Opened providing the Town with it’s First Actual Bar and Local Drinking Hole. Not only did Timeout Tavern Open in a Small Town it did so During the Pandemic, and it Thrived mainly due to the Locals  being to Stupid for Their Own Good (I guess it falls Under doing Something Good (supporting Your Local Businesses) for the Wrong Reason (IT’S CALLED QUARANTINE). Anyway I digress. Luckily Timeout Tavern and Most of the Locals Survived the Brunt of 2020, and is Doing Better than Ever in all Honesty. I attribute the Tavern’s Success to One Main Factor and that being that Before Opening the Owner did Her Homework. She got a Lay of the Land if You Will Seeing what the Market was like and Moreover what People where Looking for. In a Small Town a Bar is more than just Booze it’s the fucking Entertainment Center for the Entire fucking Town.

            

You have to Remember Small Towns literally Shut the fuck Down at 6pm and there is No Night Life to Speak Of. Thus Timeout Tavern provides Booze Obviously as well as Food (Up until there Opening all We fucking had as a Stellar Chinese Takeout Restaurant as Our Sole Option), There Pool Tables since the Locals love Killing Time at the Pool Table, Special Events like Ladies Night, Karaoke Thursday Nights, and Live Bands every Saturday as Far as providing a Variety of Entertainment Options. It should also be Noted  that in a Part of the Country still Languishing in its Love of Tobacco the Owner researched the Local Laws Pertaining to Smoking, and Established a way for Patrons to Smoke inside.

Finally After My Wife and I were Fully Vaccinated and it had been the Full 2 weeks Post Second Injection had an Opportunity to Check Out the Timeout Tavern for Ourselves. It’s a Nice Bar nothing fucking Special, but its definitely not some Shitty Hole in the Wall. The Owner and Bartenders are about the Nicest fucking People I have ever had the Pleasant Surprise of Meeting. The Patrons are made of Locals from Town as well as the Neighboring Town being that its only 8 Miles Down the Road. Everyone is friendly as fuck and Buying Shots for One another is a Very Popular thing to Do. So Since My Wife’s Work Schedule has Relaxed a bit We have gotten into the Habit of Hitting Up Timeout Tavern on Friday Nights, and this Friday was No Exception.

 

The thing that Stands Out as Odd as far as Timeout Tavern is Concerned is in a Small Town full of Blue Collar Laborers (and Avid Church Goers) is the it gets Busier the Later it Gets, and Timeout Tavern is Open till 2 am or Later if Business is Booming so to Speak. I figured the Peak Hours would be from 5pm the Time most People Around Here Clock Out for the Day and perhaps 10:30-11:00 pm Tops. The Truth of the Matter is Timeout Tavern Business Starts Picking Up around 9:30 or so. It Picks up to the Point where there’re Three times as Many People there When We Leave then when We Arrived.

This Works well Because There need to be Enough People for Me to People Watch and be Entertained, but Once it Starts getting Crowded (like Saturdays with the Live Bands and All) I get fucking Irritated and Leave. I Don’t like People though I can Tolerate Them for Shorter Periods of Time. I hate being Packed in a Loud and Noisy Bar like fucking Cattle with No Personal Space to Speak Of. Also the More People that come is Directly related to the Volume of the Music in the Bar so More People the Louder the Music. I am a music Lover No Doubt but I can’t fucking Stand it being so Loud I can’t Hear what the fuck People are Saying to Not being able to Think Straight. To Me that’s Not Fun thats fucking Irritating to No End.

                 

When We Arrived there was a Handful of People there as Per Usual and We sat down across the Bar from a Big Old Country Boy and Who I believe was His Father (all I know is it was Some Silver Haired Weathered Looking Biker who He seemed Quite Comfortable with). Time went by uneventfully for the Most Part until a Moronic Immature Man-Child came in and got Too Drunk for His Own Good. Then the Sloppy Drunk Juvenile Jackass insulted the Poor Bartender when He ordered a Round of what is called “The Fat Hooker”. This Feeble Minded Fool is so Intoxicated He kept calling the Shot a “Fat Whore”, and then Announced to Everyone Near by that He had Never bought Anyone a Fat Whore, and that the Skinny Whore (the Bartender) was going to get it. The Bartender wasn’t taking shit from Anyone especially this  Binge Drinking Dipshit so She went on the War Path while the Rest of the Bar got Her Back.  Once the Dumbfuck put His Tail between His Legs and made a Quick Exist it turned out An Older Man there was the Drunken Dick’s Boss who Informed Us all that the Guy was a Bratty Son of a Bitch who has been Leeching Off His Dad like a White Trash Trust Fund Baby.

                      

Once the Drunken Idiot Issue was resolved everything went back to a Normal Bar and all was Well. Then at One Point I noticed the Big Old Country Boy Stood Up and Started to Walk Towards Me with Purpose. Due to His rather Large Size it Didn’t take Him long to End up Standing Directly Next to Me on the Right. Now here was what was Going on in My Mind at this Point:

  • Did I do Something to Offend/Insult this Guy and Now He wants to fucking Fight Me?
  • If He does want to Fight So Be It, but I’ll need an Equalizer due to the Drastic Size Differential so I’d most likely Hit Him with My Beer Bottle at the First Sign of Trouble.
  • Did I meet this Guy before at the Bar and was So Drunk I simply Forgot and Now I’m going to have to Try and Bullshit My way Through this Encounter?
  • Is This Guy just Simply trying to be Friendly and Introduce Himself?
  • Is This Guy a Cop?
  • Is This Guy going to Try and Sell Me Weed?

                  

Luckily for Me the Big Old Country Boy stated His Purpose/Intent without an awkward Delay. He asked Me if “My Mom was Still Out at The Plantation?” which at First Confused Me. I then Realized He meant My Mom’s Family Farm that was (even though My Mother hates to Admit it) an Actual Plantation. So I replied that Yes She was, and He goes on to tell Us that He’s a General Contractor Who Four Years Ago My Mom had Called to Repair a Botched Job with Her Upstairs Shower that Occurred During Installation. Not just that but He had come over to say Hello because He remembered My Wife and I from Our Wedding Photos Hanging in My Mom’s Farmhouse. Apparently My Mom had made a Lasting Impression that She is a Nice Lady, but You sure as Hell wouldn’t want to make an Enemy of Her. I definitely couldn’t Argue since He was Absolutely right My Mom can be Your Biggest Ally or Your Biggest Enemy. Simply My Mother is a fucking Force of Nature Not to be Contented with. I couldn’t Help finding it Funny that My Mom has some Serious Country Style Street Credit.

The Part of the Conversation that I found More than Entertaining (and Equally Interesting to Learn) was when He said “Your Mother called Me in for a Tiling Job for Her upstairs Shower that the Original Guy(s) fucked up, She Didn’t Say that Mind You, but You knew thats what She Meant.” You know You’re a fucking Bad ass when You Don’t even have to Drop an F-Bomb, Yet People Still Fully Understand What Your Saying and That You’re Not to be Trifled with. It reminds Me of Actor Kevin Spacey’s unique Brand of Controlled Rage where He Doesn’t Yell or Lash Out, but You know He’s Dead fucking Serious. At this point I decided to properly Introduce Myself and found out the Man’s Name is Wade. The Funny thing is Wade also informed us “I know where You live Too.” because He apparently liked the House We bought and was even Considering Possibly Buying it Himself. That and Wade Literally Lives on My Street which is Why He extended an Open Invitation to Stop on By when I see Him working in His Garage.

                   

My Wife told Wade the Story of How one of the First things We did Prior to Moving in Full Time was We replaced the Upstairs Toilet. Since We Don’t have Trash Pick Up of Any Kind We had to load the Crapper into the Car and Drop it Off at the Local Trash Dump. The Dump is actually a Parking lot filled with Various Dumpsters for Various Things (like Yard Waste, Old Tires, Metal etc.) and Two Trash Compacters that sit Side By Side. The Reason I mention this is to Distinguishing Our Dump from the Usual Trash Dump People think of thats Archers of Trash Piled High as Mountains. Once My Brother’s Wife’s Father came to Visit and Thought the Dump was the Typical Giant Putrid Mountain Range of Garbage, and got excited about Going Down to the Dump to Shoot Rats like He did as a Kid. The fucking Bizarre thing is When I was carrying the Toilet to the Appropriate Dumpster a Man who was a Complete Stranger approached Me and said “So You’re the Ones that Bought the House on Such and Such Street.” which Blew My Mind because again I never seen this fucking Guy before in My Life. That was My First Real Lesson in What living in a Small Town is Actually like in Reality.

       

After Our Chat Wade Returned to His Side of the Bar, and My Wife and I spent a few Minutes discussing How fucking Uniquely Strange Living in a Small Town is because Shit like this happens Frequently. I’m from Up North where You don’t even Look at Your Neighbor more or Less Conversate with Them. Where I grew Up You just ignored the Hell out of Your Neighbors under the guise that Neighbors are Typically More Trouble than They’re Worth. I then glanced at My Phone to check the Text Messages, and when I looked up I Saw Wade Pointing at My Wife in the Classic “You want a Shot I’m Buying.” Stance. My Wife Doesn’t start Drinking Until She is Ready In Spite of Being at a Bar so She Replied that She wasn’t Currently Drinking but Thank You just the Same. Wade then immediately Turned His Attention to Me and Boisterously Announced “I Know His Mom, I Know He Needs a Shot!” Which is the Country Version of Respectfully Busting Your Balls so I didn’t get all Bent About it in the Least. In Fact it was just the Opposite I said He was definitely correct and received My Free Shot.

                    

Later on the Bartender Stopped by and Dropped Off a Beer and told Me that it was from Wade. I thanked Wade Who responded by Saying Loudly “He’s a Good Guy and a Good Guy to know since He’ll be Running Everything Someday.” which is Pretty Accurate. What Wade was alluding to is He is a Contractor, My Mom’s Farm always has Work that Needs to be Done, and when the Time Comes I will be in Charge of it all. This is Almost Totally accurate accept Wade seems to be Unaware I have a Younger Brother Who will be Running the Farm Jointly with Me. The Irony is My Mother’s current and Long Time Contractor is getting Close to Retiring especially since His Life of Physical Labor is taking a Heavy Toll on His Health (His Back is Shot to Shit). So crossing Paths with Wade at this Time was Perfect since We will be needing a New Contractor in the Near Future once the Current one Calls it Quits at Last.

So as I have Adjusted (and still am Honestly) to Small Town Life I never thought I’d be the One to say it, But Small Town Life is Easy Living. I never in mY wildest fucking Dreams thought I’d ever Settle Down in a Small Town and Not Only Not Hate it, but Come to Embrace it as well. I suppose its Life’s way of Letting You Know that it’s in the Drivers Seat Regardless of What You may Think or have Planned.

Thanks For Reading,

   By Les Sober  

A Drunken Case Of Mistaken Identity

For those of Us that Drink Alcoholic Beverages like Myself We all have had Drunken Mishaps Along the Way. Everything from Drunken Phone Calls professing Undying Love to an Irritated Ex to Vomiting to a Full Blown Bar Room Brawl We’ve all been there at Least Once when Alcohol is Involved. This is one of those Not so Proud Moments during a Night Out Drinking like there was No Tomorrow a Few Years Back.

It all Started with a New Job, New Office, and of course New Co-Workers. I’m not what one would call a Social Butterfly by Any Means, but over the First Few Weeks I slowly became Friends with a Coworker Named Zander. Zander and I worked in the Same Small Department which made it Easier for ME to Socialize Comfortably. So as Time Rolled On I reached that Pivotal Point in a Work Friendship where You ask said Friend if They in fact would like to Hangout Outside of Work. Now I new Zander had Three Young Kids all Under the Age of Ten so Free Time was Something He had in Extremely Short Supply. Thats One Life Lesson We all Eventually Learn, and that is When Your Friends have Kids They Disappear. It’s like They go into some Parenting Witness Protection Program.

                   

What even First Time Parents Don’t Fully fucking Realize is that When You have a Kid Your Entire Life becomes dedicated to one Sole Purpose and that’s Raising the Child/Children. Also it’s Not its Not just in the Physical World that Their Absence is Notable either. They Stop returning Texts, Answering Emails, Taking Phone Calls, and They Abandon Their Social Media Accounts. If By Chance Do Keep a Social Media Account Active it turns into the “HEY LOOK AT MY KID EVERYBODY” as if the Entire Rest of the World has a fucking Vested Interest in the Daily Life of Your Child. Anyway back to the Story.

One Day I finally asked Zander if He wanted to go get a Beer or Something After Work since it was Friday, and the beginning of the Weekend Plus it was Pay Day. Zander thought about it the Way Parents Do by Pausing, Getting Quit, and Starring off like They’re going into a Trance. I mean its Not like You asked Them an Advanced Calculous Question, but again a Child is a Dominating Force to be Reckoned with. I waited patiently watching the Gears in Danders Head start Spinning as He did a Mental Checklist of Kid Shit He may or may Not have to Do (as Well as Responsibilities like Feeding the Kids and all that Maintenance Shit). At Last Zander returned to the Adult World Outside of His Head, and Said He was pretty sure He could come Out, BUT He had to Run Home Directly afterwork to Clear it with His Wife. It made sense to Me since No One like getting Shafted with having to Handle the Kids/Kid Shit by One’s Self as Raising a Child is a Tag Team Activity. The way We left it was Once I got to the Bar I would call Zander at Home and He would come on Down.

                   

I decided on a Local Old Man Dive Bar in the Area since called Maloney’s because I hate Sports Bars or Any Loud, Packed, and Obnoxious Bar for that matter. I also figured it was an Ideal Spot because the Drinks Were Strong and Cheap since being a Parent of Three Money as well as Time always seems to be an Issue. Now You must Understand a Few Things about Maloney’s to Understand some of the Reasons for the Confusion. First Off this was Back in the when People could Smoke in Bars allowing Them to get Cancer while becoming an Alcoholic. Maloney’s being a Old Man Dive Bar was full of Not Just Smokers, But Old School Smokers from Back in the Days when Doctor’s Did TV Ads for Cigarette Companies.

These were the Hardcore Smokers Who Woke Up ever Morning and the First thing They did was Light up a Smoke, and Use it to light the Next Smoke, and The Next, and the Next. They’d Chain-smoke all Day and Night Long just Lighting One Smoke off of the Previous One No Need for a Lighter or Match. Considering Maloney’s is/was a Small Hole in the Wall that at Most was around 500 Square Feet the Cloud of Smoke inside was Constant and Thick. Another thing about Maloney’s is the Lighting is Virtually Non Existent. It was so goddamn Dark that when You entered You had to Stand in the Door for Several Minutes while Your eyes did Their Best to Adjust to the Bare Minimum Lighting.

                   

When I got there with My Wife We Noticed a Handful of Regulars that We were Friendly with were Sitting at the Bar. We said Hey to the People We Knew and I started Drinking. It wasn’t until the 4th beer or So that I remembered I was supposed to call Zander. Well after 2-3 more Beers I actually called Him. Zander said His Wife was Cool with taking care of  the Kid Shit for the Evening. Zander then said  He’d be Down in about Half an Hour since He was Driving from His In-Laws Who lived a Town or Two Over. Since I had honored My Obligations I simply went back to Drinking. I had lost Track of Time and the Number of Beer/Shots I was consuming when My Wife Leaned Over and asked Me if That Was My Friend Who had Just Walked In. We Were in a Far Corner table Since I have to Sit where I can See Everything and Everyone due to being rather Paranoid. I strained My Eyes battling the Lower than Low Lighting, and Peering intently through the Heavy Cloud of Smoking hanging in the Room. The Man who had just Arrived was approximately the same age and Height as Zander so based on those Observations alone decided it was in deed Zander.

                    

As I walked across the Room the Man walked over and took a Seat at the Bar where He immediately started fucking with His Phone. I get one to the Bar and take a Seat on the Empty Stool Next to the Man still under the Assumption that I He’s My New Friend Zander. The Man doesn’t Acknowledge My Presence, in fact He didn’t bat single fucking Eye Lash He remained Face Down in His Phone utterly Oblivious. While I was approached the Bar I had heard the Man order a Vodka and Cranberry, and Not Knowing Zander’s Drink of Choice I used this to Break the Ice. I said “Vodka and Cranberry Huh?” to which the Man Ever so Slightly and I mean almost imperceivable to the Human Eye turned His Head in My Direction and Grunted something Obviously Not giving a Flying fuck about what I had to Say. I Sat there in a Confused Drunken Stupor trying to Figure Out what the fuck was going on with Zander. Had He had a Fight with His Wife on the way out the Door, Gotten a phone call with some Bad News on the Way Over, Or Perhaps He was just an Introverted Dick when He was Off The Clock.

                   

Before I can contemplate what to do in this Bizarre Situation My Wife comes Up Behind Me and Leans Over to Talk to Me. Ironically My Wife (the One Who had Pointed the Man to Me in the First fucking Place) informs Me that I am have Mistaken a Complete fucking Stranger for My Friend Zander, and She knew this since while I was Sitting at the Bar the Real Zander had Arrived. Luckily Zander had been able to Identify My Wife and had come over to the Table to say Hello and Properly Introduce Himself. Granted due to being Overtly Intoxicated (aka Drunk as Drunk can Be) I was Not at all Subtle in My Processing of this New Information courtesy of My Wife. I Jumped Off the Stool and Demanded to know, even though I was the Confused One, to know Who the Fuck was I Sitting Next Too, and What the fuck was He doing Here Exactly. I treated the Situation as if This Unknown Asshole was at Fault for the Mistake, as if He had Purposefully planned to Confuse the Hell Out of Me. This Obviously of Course was Not the Case at All.

My Wife Escorted Me back to Our Table where I greeted Zander and Proceeded to have an Extremely Enjoyable Night. In Fact God knows How Long its been Since I left that Job, but Zander and I still get out once in a while for a couple of Beers.

Thanks For Reading,

By Les Sober   

The French Fry Fiasco

While We were Living in the Great Southern Swamp We owned a French and an English Bulldog Both of Which Were Rehomes. Wally the Male English Bulldog’s Original Family realized while They Loved Him They simply Didn’t have Enough Time to Care for Him. The French Bulldog was a Recently Retired Show Dog and Champion, and Her Mom (who breed French Bulldogs in Addition to The Dog Show Shit) was getting Out of the French Bulldog Breeding Game to go Back to Breeding Boxers.

These Two  Bulldogs just so Happened to be Two of the Coolest Dogs We have had the Pleasure of Sharing Our Lives With. I fucking Hate People who say “Owned” when it comes to an Animal because its fucking Demeaning. It’s a fucking Living Creature it is Not the Equivalent of a TV or some shit. The Situation behind Pet classification is fucking Stupid as Pets are in the Eyes of the Law Property exactly like a Sofa or Video Game System. That is Absolutely and Totally fucking Ridiculous on Every Level.

One Night in Particular I was Home Alone Drinking One Too Many Beers, and Bullshitting with Some Buddies on the Phone. When My Wife got Home from Work (around 10:30 pm or so) She had Missed Dinner, and I had been so Wrapped Up in Fucking Around I hadn’t Eaten Either. So My Wife went Out to Score Some Fast Food Bullshit for Us God Bless her because I would have been Pissed if I was Her. I mean She got off work Late after something like a 14 Hour Shift only to Find Her Husband Drunk, Giddy, and with Nothing whatsoever for Dinner. Not exactly the thing Anyone would be thrilled to come Home to After a Brutally Long Day on the Job. While My Wife was Out retrieving Our Dinner I finished My Last beer, and Decided to Roll Up a Joint for After Diner. I rolled up the Joint and Placed it Next to My Pack of Cigarettes (Yes I was a Smoker, Key Word being Was since I quite Several Years Ago) on Our Coffee Table and Played with the Dogs Until My Wife Returned.

              

Now I had a Bad Habit as a Pet Owner of Sharing Any French Fries I had with the Bulldogs Who Thought it was a Fabulous Thing for Me to Do. Also When I had Been Drinking (which I honestly did way too much of at that Point in My Life) I tended to Throw the French Fries on the Floor in Front of the Dogs. I opted for this Method because it was Much Easier to Throw the Fries on the Floor Rather than Handing The Dogs Every Single fucking Fry. I would tend to Get Overly Enthusiastic during what I referred to a Fry Feeding Frenzies and Would Toss Several Frys at one Time. That Night was No Acceptation by any means as I Happily Threw Virtual Handfuls of Frys to the Dogs. As the Fry Count diminished I resorted to Tossing a Single Fry each time to the Dogs instead of Blanketing the Entire Living Room Floor with a Bounty of Frys.

Once We had Finished Dinner My Wife went to take a Shower to Relax and Unwind after a Tough Day at Work. I threw the Fast Food Trash away and strolled back into the Living Room with a Full Stomach and an Alcohol Drenched Liver. I plopped Down on the Couch in My Usual Spot, Stretched, Sighed, and decided to Watch The Canadian Television Show Trailer Park Boys on Netflix (Heres a Tip: Watching The Trailer Park Boys Intoxicated is a fucking Fun Time if I ever had One). A Few Moments into the Show I remembered that I had Prepared a Joint for an After Dinner at which Point I was Very Happy with Myself. That was Until I went to get the Joint and Realized it Wasn’t Were I Left It. Now having racked up an Insane Amount of Hours Intoxication I had learned along the Way to Expect shit like this to Happen. I then began My search for the Wayward Weed by first Looking to See if I put in My Cigarette Pack to Keep it Safe during Dinner. Unfortunately for Me it wasn’t, But I knew that in these cases Whatever I may be trying to Locate it won’t be in the First Spot I look.

                  

I then Proceeded to See if it had Rolled around and was Lost in the Chaotic Chaos of the Coffee Table. I sifted through Beer Caps, Ashtrays, Magazines, Game Controllers, and Other Debris that had Collected upon the Table during the Events of the Day. Still the Joint Eluded  Me at Every Turn. I then I scanned the Floor Around where I was Sitting to See if it had just Rolled Off the Table onto the Floor. After assessing the Joint had not Rolled off the Table onto the Floor where I could have Spotted it with Ease I moved on to the Next Portion of My Search for the Missing Sativa. I got down on all Fours (Ironically like a Dog) on the Floor and ran My Hand Under the Edge of the Large L Shaped Couch. Again I came up Empty Handed as it was apparent that the Joint had not Rolled onto the Floor and then Under the Couch.

I then took a Moment to Collect My Scattered Thoughts and Again Scanned the Immediate Area trying to Figure Out where the Damned Joint had gotten off to. As I sat there I noticed That Wally was sitting on the floor directly to My left and Dozy Directly to My Right. The Gears of My Muddled Mind began to Turn as I started to Put the Pieces of the Puzzle Together at Last. All of a Sudden I had a Moment of Clarity and Instantly it became Crystal fucking Clear to Me what Had Transpired. In the Hectic Hubbub of Dinner I had Mistakenly Picked Up the Joint Thinking at the Time it was Just Another French Fry in the Mix. It had become Painfully Obvious that the Case of Mistaken Identity had Resulted in Me Tossing the Joint instead of a The Standard French Fry. I searched Everywhere once again to make Sure beyond a Reason of a Doubt that’s What I had Did, and thats Exactly what I had  Done.

I wasn’t Upset about Losing the Joint, but I also wasn’t sure what Effect it might have on whichever Dog ate it. Once My Wife was out of the Shower and Dressed She returned to the Living Room, and Upon seeing the look on My Face (One of Guilt mixed with Drunken Disorientation) asked What Happened. I immediately launched into a Diatribe about the Mistaken Fry Deal which Ended up with Me Babbling in Circles like a Drunk Dog Chasing its Tail. My Wife didn’t freak out which I took as a Very fucking good Sign so I stopped Holding My Breath and Waited to Her what She had to Say on the Subject at Hand. My Wife Wasn’t Worried or Too Concerned, But Erring on the Side of Caution and Believing in Safety First instructed Me that We needed to Keep an Eye on the Dogs just in Case. Since My Wife and I were both Vet Tech for Over 10 Years Apiece We were Confident We could Handle this Mishap without Further Complication.

Now while this seems as Simple a Task as They Come there Certain Traits in Bulldogs that made it Impossible to Discern Who ate The Joint. First Off They are by Nature  Lazy as Fuck to the Point People Joke that They tend to Look Stoned Normally. So Acting Slow and Dopey is just the way Your Average Bulldog’s Behaves in General. Secondly Bulldogs are Natural Born Gluttons so Using the Munchie Factor as an Indicator was also Null and Void. Bulldogs Think with Their Bellies, and Would Actually Eat Themselves to Death if given the Chance. The Bottomline here is there was No Accurate Way of Telling Who ate the Joint because Bulldogs Naturally Exhibit the Symptoms Associated with being Stoned. In the End the Dogs were Fine as if Nothing had Happened, and I made sure as Shit to Insure Nothing like that Happened Ever Again.

Thanks For Reading,

By Les Sober    (Pt1234am)

What Are You Thinking?

The Backstory is Simple a Man named Issac posted the Following Video Years Ago. Issac claimed that while Working at the Local Trash Dump one Day He came across an Old Discarded IBM Computer Tower, and Issac decided to take Home just for Shits and Giggles. Once He got the Tower Home He was Not only Surprised to See it Still worked, BUT that it also contained a Great Number of Files on It. Isaac opened the First Video Listed which was Titled “What Are You Thinking?”, and after watching it Posted it to Youtube. Before Issac had a chance to Post Any Additional Videos Allegedly the Computer Tower was Stolen. And Since Issac Didn’t have Any of the Tower’s Content Backed Up it will have to Remain a Mystery.

When I happened to hear about this Video I obviously Hit Up Youtube to See the Video for Myself since I was quite Curious. A Bit to My Surprise I found a Disclaimer from Youtube that said and I Quote “This Video has been Removed for Violating Youtube’s Policy on Violent or Graphic Content.” Needless to Say after a Little Hunting I found the Video, Watched it, and Then My Mind was Spinning at a Million Miles Per Hour from There.

            

Some of the Speculations as to What in fact “What Are You Thinking” is are as Follows in No Particular Order: Proof that Red Rooms DO Exist, and This is a Pre Execution Torment and Torture Session to Increase Profits as it Amps up The Gore Factor Considerably. There is the Usual assumption that the Video was made by a Mentally Unbalanced Person in Need of Professional Treatment who may be experiencing Mania or a Psychotic Break. Yet Other’s believe it’s some sort Cult Recruiting Tool or Promotional Video designed to Find Possible New Members.

Others seem to think it’s Supernatural and is partial Footage of an Exorcism Ritual of Some Sort. More than just a Few People Thought it might be a Bizarre, But Real life Suicide or Perhaps it is Some Serious Side Effects from Human Experimentation  (More than Likely Hallucinogens). There is Also the Tried and True School of Thought that Thinks its related to the American Military, Governmental Agency, or New World Order Shadow Government Conspiracy type Shit. It also very well may be Some Drug Addict fucking around while They’re Intoxicated (more than likely Hallucinogens in this Case or Perhaps Bath Salts/Flakka), Yet NO ONE ACTUALLY KNOWS.

            

Then Again isn’t that the Thrill of the Dark Web?! Its the Embodiment of a World without Laws, Rules, Judgment or Order the Dark Web is a Treacherous Place Fraught with Danger, Devils, and The Damned Alike. It’s an Entire World Existing in a Digital Void where it Hides the Depravity of Society and Humanity from the Unsuspecting Masses. The Morbid Curiosity   of The Dark Web Promising You’ll see things You never thought Existed, Things You Can Not Forget, Things You Can’t Unsee, and that along with the Sickest, Most Twisted, Violent, Revolting, Evil, and all Manner of Horrible Atrocities committed by The Human Race.

Though You may Never Visit the Dark Web Yourself because It’s too Dangerous, Scary, or too Fucked Up. Perhaps You tell People You have No Interest in Exploring the Dark Web, or That the Dark Web is Only for Illegal/Illicit Transactions. None the Less there will Always be a Small Part of You that Longs to Dive into the Pitch Black of the Dark Web to See What You can Find. Enjoy.

Thanks for Watching,

  Les Sober (1:07am)

I Was A Teenage Murder Junkie pt.4: Salvation of the Streets

Mike shoved the doors of the basement delivery and much to our surprise they swung open like a $2.00 Hooker’s legs on pay day.  We bum rushed out of the confines of the basement show leaving the ensuing riot behind us. As we emptied onto the street it resembled the most messed up parade anyone could imagine. Several police cruisers were parked out front in various and precarious angles outside of the bar with their lights blazing as a handful of cops wandered around amidst the occupants of the bar. The regulars were at the outskirts of the crowd bitching about being separated from their beer and bar because of some punk kids shit show (that shouldn’t have ever been booked) as The Barfly was in deed a Bar not an actual show venue. The base of the crowd outside were not just the fan’s that attended the show, but an increasing amount of onlookers out from the shadows of the shitty streets they called home. It was quite obvious that there simply were not nearly enough police officers to accomplish much of anything accept a couple of initial arrests, and not getting killed in an already out of control situation that since they intervened seemed to only escalate more and more. Plainly put it was a numbers game and the police were well outnumbered.

Our small clan stood in a tight circle around GG who was beyond agitated and was now bordering on his usual redirect of hate against the entire fucking planet. All I remember from standing in that circle as we franticly threw together some resemblance of an escape plan that I was completely distracted by GG. Well not GG as much as the way he smelled to be more accurate. The pungent stench of stale beer, body odor, blood, feces and urine combined into a force all its own burning ones nostrils and causing ones eyes to water profusely. I have smelled rotting roadkill baking under the hellacious heat of a Texas summer heatwave that didn’t wreak nearly as bad or strongly as GG that night in the ally. The most immediate part of our plan if we were to escape unharmed in one piece and avoid incarceration was to camouflage GG like any anonymous fan. While the first responders found themselves out matched had inevitably radioed for much need back up, and GG was their main target. GG’s girlfriend grabbed a dirty bandana from out of a trash can in the ally and furiously started wiping the blood from GG’s head as well as face. The Mike contributed his leather biker jacket and one of the few other fans with donated a pair of cut off sweat pant shorts. GG took the fitly bloody bandana from Liz and fashioned it so it not only covered his shaved head but also obscured his eyes. With GG now dressed identically like one of his disenfranchised fans we slowly exited the ally into the main street. The police were to distracted by all the other bullshit going on they didn’t notice our exiting from the ally next to the bar. We started walking briskly in a tight knit group with GG on point. We made it all the half block down to the corner of the block without issue until we (moreover GG) was detected again not by the police or adoring fans, but by one of the amassed spectators on the opposite side of the street from the bar.

“GG IS FUCKING GOD!!” screamed the unknown onlooker like a fucking air siren circa World War II. Thats all it took to get the attention needed for the fans and mentality of the show to spill out onto the streets like blood from a severed artery. The fans and onlookers started to walk down the street in our direction, and unwanted attention. We managed to make it 3 blocks before GG decided to start engaging his following fans and assorted others like the onlookers. GG started by responding to the chants and screams of support which only served to rile the crowd into a further fury. We could hear the sounds of bottles breaking, trash cans being tossed and an assortment of other sounds of destruction as I began to worry that the incoming police back up might spot us thus ending our escape and starting the jailing process. GG didn’t seem to give a shit anymore as he continued to encourage the chaos. GG was leading the procession of misfits and deviants through the South Philly streets like a demented Pied Pipper leading his personal army of rats.

The only thing that finally got GG to snap back to reality and realize the true and present danger of the surrounding police was his desire to party. No surprise GG was a heavy drinker and endorsed drinking as well as drug use in any and all forms (GG also endorsed violence especially against authority) ,and his Achilles hill made him focused at the task at hand: Don’t get arrested (again) and get drunk/high. We soon realized walking wasn’t going to work as no one knew where we were or where we were going not to mention we were being escorted by a unruly gang of miscreants spreading destruction in their wake. I managed to wrestle a crumpled $20 bill from my tattered jeans and got Liz’s attention. I gave her the twenty and told her it was for cab fare to get GG out of here once and for all. We unfortunately had to walk several more blocks until we had a chance in hell of catching a cab in spite of the nights already tumultuous events. At last one of the few fans with us a small greasy guy (he was 5 foot nothing at best) with 5 o’clock shadow got ahead of us and managed to hail the only cab we had seen since arriving hours earlier. Liz jumped in the cab as fast as she possible could tugging on GG’s arm so hard it looked as if she was trying to dislocate GG’s fucking shoulder. GG paused as he entered the beat up gypsy cab and said angrily “Fuck you Philly!” and then preceded to getting the cab. As soon as GG was in the cab it took off like a bat out of hell with its ass on fire.

As I stood there watching as the cab barreled GG off into the night I thought to myself “I don’t know how the hell I ended up at a GG Allin show, but I was damn glad I came because you can’t make shit like this up.”