Tag: Observational Humor

Ivy Savage and The LSD Incident

Preface:

There a couple of things I feel it is imperative that I mention before our story begins.

  1. My dear friend The Arminian was dating this girl named Ivy Savage for a while. The relationship was short and ended in a total full blown Shit Show.
  2. Ivy Savage is not her legal birth name, nor has she changed it legally either. Point being I didn’t change her real name to Ivy Savage.
  3. This story took place many moons ago when I dealt drugs. At the time of this story I and my partners in crime had a batch of LSD called Black Magic. BM got its name for the Black Abstract Swirling Design on one side. BM was the strongest acid We ever had by far, and because of that We cut the Hits in half and sold them as regular Tabs.

Ladies & Gentalmen here for the first time ever, I give you Ivy Savage and The LSD Incident!

It was one of those long monotonous summer days the kind where you feel like you’ve been suspended in time and space. The Armenian and I decided to forego collage to loitering around town selling drugs. Our trademark drug if you will, the one we were best known for was our LSD.

We had just picked up 3 new sheets of blotter acid from our connection who was some weird androgynous motherfucker named Sam Antha  that we met along our travels. It was a friend of a friend type deal, and we met him when we where looking to score some weed. For some reason I always felt the urge to hit him which I never did, but dear god did I want to.

That day we were bumming around Ivy’s parent’s house in the Upper Middle Class Suburbs with its large houses and big green lawns. It just so happened Ivy’s little brother Tidbit was also hanging around with a few of his Preppy wannabe be Hippy friends.

Now killing time was a fucking art form where I’m from, and thats why all the kids did was drink/drugs was out of nothing more than sheer boredom. I was out on the backyard deck drinking beer and smoking pot with The Armenian when Tidbit came outside to join us. Tidbit inquired about obtaining some acid so We hooked him and his little buddies up. When Ivy found out she got pissed off but not why you may think. She wasn’t angry because We hooked Tidbit up with the acid, but rather that she would have to keep an eye on him and she had her own drugs to do.

Tidbit and his Pals went off to his room to drop the acid and listen to classic rock like the cliques the were. The Armenian and I continued to party out on the deck while Ivy darted about franticly ranting about god knows what. Ivy was doped up on a cocktail of pharmaceutical drugs for being completely batshit crazy so we tended to ignore her when she started bugging out. The Armenian finally talked Ivy off the ledge (which was no small task I assure you) and she was sitting on the couch drinking Gin out of a Tea Cup.

We were sitting around the living room having decided to abandon the deck for the A/C inside when We heard a commotion. We could make out that it was coming from upstairs so We went up to investigate what was happening. The noise got louder as We reached the 2nd floor, and We could establish the sound coming from the Bathroom. Tidbit’s friends were no where in sight to shed any light on the current state of affairs. The Armenian leaned towards the bathroom door so he could hear a bit better and reported it was Tidbit but he had no idea what the issue was. At last We figured We had only one choice and that was to open the bathroom door and see for ourselves and thats what We did.

Once We flung the bathroom door open We saw Tidbit sitting on the toilet with his pants around his ankles. He had this look a combination of shock, awe, and trama that left him looking utterly horrified. I then asked Tidbit what in the hell was his problem was and no one was prepared for his answer.

Tidbit told us that he was tripping balls and had to talk a shit so he went to the bathroom, sat down, and got ready to handle his business. Apparently half way through the process things went slightly astray. When asked to elaborate further because unless this was an LSD inspired celebratory shit scenario he had more explaining to do. That is when Tidbit said

“I came in here to take a dump and my shit fucked me in the ass, I know what its like to be Gay.”

The Armenian and I broke into instant laughter and were shoved abruptly into the hall by an irate Ivy. Ivy managed to calm Tidbit who then retreated back into his room. I have no idea what he told his Pals about what happen if at all, but I do wonder from time to time.

Thanks for READING,

Les Sober  

Varieties of Pain

I am writing this blog about pain not because I am feeling creative but I am in pain. All I will say about that is knee and tooth pain. Unfortunately (or fortunately for those of you who like my blogs) these, I think, are two of the worst places to have it. I meaning eating and walking are two things most people (other then Terri Schiavo) have to do every damn day.
OK so on to the good shit.

The types of pain

I’m really just going to go with three types of pain, since the three things I’m about to say would pretty much cover anything you are going through unless you want to be an asshole and try to make categories into subcategories  You know who you are you are the dumb asses who say Australia is not a continent it’s just an island or antarctica is not a continenet cuz no one lives there.

So there is emotional pain. This one is pretty boring and can usually be resolved with enough liquor and either a few quick and fast lays or 6 hours of venting while drunk as hell. You pick your poison. Are you old school Madonna (spreading it like a virgin) or are you Celine Dion (spreading it for your manager who is like 50 and you are 14)?

Physically pain is pretty boring too. I think, personally, the worst pain (other then detoxing off drugs) that someone can go through is tooth pain. I am not really taking into account childbirth because that is like expected pain. I mean duh you are gonna be in pain, that’s not why you got knocked the hell up but bloody yes you did so if you go on talking for 3 bloody weeks about it, well then yes golly jeez we don’t care anymore. Send us some pic of your retard kid on an xmas card and shut up, that’s what normal people do,

Then HOLY JESUS yes.

There is spiritual pain. I do not know a whole lot about this in the traditional sense of the word, however I have been known to do a bit of Santeria in my day (I still freakin love it when they look at me like I’m a crazy white person in their store) Ha lets just say I’ve had one really successful spell and a mirade of ones that didn’t go so good. Well I don’t believe that’s what is causing my physical pain but you never know.

CONCLUSIONAY

Anyhoo, I have been wanting to write more. I have soooo many topics in my head to write just about anything however this pain is keeping me away from just about everything in the world. 🙂

But look yes I still smile, yes I still try to live and yes my ass needs to see the doctor, but I am really really lazy and dont like surgery. lol.By SpaceDog  

The Tale of Two Hospitals

Where We moved in the Southern Country there is a choice if need be of 2 different near by Hospitals. On one hand there’s the local Applesburg County’s Lemon Hospital, and on the other you have Poseidon Hospital in the neighboring County of East Chuck Town.

As far as Poseidon is concerned They are excellent, great staff, kick ass nurses, and damn good doctors. I can testify to this first hand as I spent several days there last month for a little heart issue. Poseidon was as wonderful as We were told by everyone We met a true 5 star facility. Once I was released from Poseidon when I talked to someone the FIRST thing they would say (even before asking “How are You”/”How are You doing?”) was that I was Lucky (or that it was “Wonderful/Great/Good” etc.) that I ended up going to Poseidon Hospital instead of Lemon.

Now Lemon Hospital IS A MUCH DIFFERENT STORY ALL TOGETHER!

The Locals actually have a saying about Lemon Hospital that goes like this “Go to Lemon Hospital if You want to DIE.” (The emphasis on die)

In fact Lemon’s reputation has been so shitty for so long people will do pretty much anything in their power to avoid being taken there. The most popular way to assure that the Ambulance takes you too Poseidon is to drive yourself (or have someone drive you if your not capable) just over the boarder between Applesburg and East Chuck Town, and THEN call 911.

This method has become so preferable that a Local Gentlemen started his own “County Line Shuttle Service”. So if your sick or injured, can’t drive yourself, and don’t have anyone else who can drive you then you can call this Gentleman. He will then pick you up at your current location, and drive you over the County line where he will even call 911 on your behalf.

Now this insanely honest and unanimous view of Lemon Hospital is curiously compelling. Its gotten to the point where one of these days I’m going to drive the 50 minutes from my house to Lemon Hospital just to see this Horror Show of a Hospital. I can only imagine based on what I have been told what this Hell Hole Hospital must actually look like.

For example I imagine there is blood splattered everywhere on damn near everything, and severed body parts strewn all across the floor. There dead bodies on gurneys  lining the halls under flickering florescent lights. I imagine the Doctor’s all who barely graduated Medical School with a “D” or attended one of the finest Medical Schools in the Tropics. I imagine a skeleton staff comprised of workers who look more like corpses than living human beings working with outdated and flawed Medical Equipment. I imagine there is a Mortuary in the lobby as apposed to a Gift Store. I imagine mold on the walls of the Cafeteria with rather large Rats scurrying about amongst the Roaches. I imagine leaking pipes, rampant rust, pungent stench of sickness and death,over crowded rooms packed with the dying, moans and cries of doomed patients filling the musty, stagnant air, and filth encrusted walls, BUT I can only imagine for the time being.

Perhaps this will help explain my current morbid fascination with the Dreaded Lemon Hospital of Death or perhaps not.

Thanks for READING,

Les Sober  

Its Called Karma You Kreaton

I was down in The Great Southern Swamp for some hellish holiday shit when something rather odd happened.

My Wife and I were driving back to our temporary base camp when I saw a something peculiar out of the corner of my eye. I asked my Wife to hold up ,and turn into the small empty parking lot of some small business. I had her drive down to the far end and park. I got out and peered around the corner to see exactly what the fuck I saw because it look bizarrely different.

What I saw was an average run of the fucking mill garbage can (the one with a flip lid and rear wheels), BUT what was cool was someone had tagged the garbage can with yellow spray paint. The Artist had written the message “NCAH Will Bite You” on all 4 sides of the garbage can no less, and then topped it all off with a caveman like hieroglyph of what appeared to be some sort of cat looking animal. I decided it was odd enough I was going to take a few pictures to document the weirdness when I hear my Wife say “He’s just taking a picture.”

I stood up as I had squatted down for a better shot to see sizable Veterinary Technician lording over me. The big bald bastard must have been about 6’3″ or so 200 some odd pounds and was standing in front of me bowing his chest out. He had his arms hanging at his sides all tensed up like he was about to lunge at me, and all that macho male posturing primal bullshit. On top of it all the big son of a bitch was staring me down hardcore glaring at me like I told him to go fuck his mom.

I couldn’t figure out why the hell my taking a picture of a fucking garbage had illicit such a aggressive reaction. Second I thought fuck him in his big bald bitch ass the big bald bastard. So I stood up and simple explained the obvious that I saw the garbage can, thought it was rather bad ass, and wanted to take picture. This Big Bastard stood there not saying a fucking thing just glaring at me like I’m the asshole.

So I attempted to chat with the Big Bald Bitch because at this point I had no fucking idea what the hell was going on with this fucking whack job. He just kept up the silent tough guy like a hollywood action movie cliche. Finally the Bald fuck says “Its (the small business was) a Veterinary Clinic.”, and then went stone cold silent again like a shitty statue. I asked who NCAH meant to see if it was a place, organization, or business perhaps at which point the Big Bitch informs me it stands for NORTH CAL ANIMAL HOSPITAL in a cocksucking condescending tone of voice before going back to scowling at me.

Well I knew at this point there wasn’t fuck all I could do to reason with this Big Bald Bastard so it was time for me to get the hell home. I was half way back to the car when I turned around (still walking mind you) and said something like “I don’t see why your such an asshole… I just wanted a picture because its a cool picture I didn’t tag it you miserable fuck…You didn’t need to be a dick but you did you fucking asshole…fuck you, fuck off with that bullshit…Fucker…”

I get in the car as my Wife is telling the Big Bald Bitch that we’re leaving, when the Big Son of a Bitch say quite loudly “Why did it have to be that way??!” His question boggled my mind as I tried to figure out how big of a motherfucking ignorant idiot he really was. I couldn’t help myself and I yelled back “YOU DECIDED TO BE A FUCKING DICK, AND I DIDN’T TAKE YOUR MACHO BULLSHIT THATS WHY ASSHOLE.”

I can’t believe their actually People that are apparently like this gentlemen are simply too fucking stupid to live, how have they lasted this long honestly??!!

Thanks for the READ,

Les Sober 

 

Frienenemy

We all have one at one point in our life. The true intention of the start of an attempted friendship is never that to purposely gain an enemy. We as people truly have good intentions the majority of the time.

I know. There are some people that only become your friends because of your position in life, because of your circle that they want to penetrate, your looks, your car, there are endless countless reasons that you could be used for your friendship. Maybe we all do this to some degree or another, even if you substitute these replaceable material things with that of someone’s personality. With that of a person’s inner most soul.

No, I know again. We can’t see the soul on the surface. That is why friendship can be a trial and error process. As we are younger, we are less cautious until we get hurt by another. It is very much akin to baby animals (and baby humans for that matter) who will go up to another and have unending trust in them.

That is why I believe not in original sin. Sin is taught, sin is learned. Behaviors around us are emulated. What is a sin to you, may not be a sin to me. And vice versa. Yes there are sins which an overwhelming majority knows are wrong, like murder, because they feel wrong and you would not want this happening to you. However, there are smaller things on the grand scale of things, that some people do not consider wrongs.

This therein lies where we come about the phenomenon of known as frenenemy.

You see it does not really matter, hide nor hair, of what a person’s upbringing is. It is what you surround yourself with. Your blood family can only be so much a part of this. Most of this is up to you and what you can tolerate.

I have had a few frenemies in my day. There is that old expression, “Keep your friends close, but your enemies even closer.”

But how much can we tolerate? Where is the point where we must draw the line in the sand and say stop? I am beginning to the see where this ends and where this begins on the great precipice known as reality. There is a fine line between everything sane and rational and everything “insane” and irrational.  When the line is visible to all those around you sometimes it is time to call this to an end.

Yet, I wonder to myself. Were my motives selfish for associating with this person in the first place? Was there something I wanted to get out of it? Obviously I was getting something out of it as it filled my need for evil, that was mainly learned by society. There was a hole in my soul that needed a temporary patch job like putting ambisol on a cracked tooth or putting a tiny snoopy band-aid on an arm gushing with blood.

My most famous frenenemy (no he was not really famous, more like imfamous) started as my friend but after many years I only stuck around for reasons to this day I am unaware of. Perhaps I liked the pain that he brought me. Perhaps I liked the element of surprise that he brought to my life because I never knew what city I might be in or how much money he could bring me in the next night. He turned into my boss, but wow now I’m really rambling.

The point is. How long would you stick around for a frenemy? Is there any point to the mayhem?

I say. If no one is bleeding, then no one is hurt. But once you have ripped open my wounds and created new ones on top of that well then I listen to my friend Tori Amos. She says maybe it’s time to say goodbye now.

By The One and Only

SpaceDog 

You Only Get a 1 Chance To Make a 1st Impression and They F*cked Up

Quite a while ago I was at a near by local Mall (I fucking hate Malls their a Vulgar Display of Capitalism) and We saw an entry for a contest. The prize was a White Trash Ride on Lawnmower Wet Dream. The Mower was splattered with White Trash Decals for everything from the a popular Collage, State football team, The States Flag and the Token State  Symbol from tip to tail. It was such a gross case of overkill We knew we had to enter.  We filled out the general information card and plopped it into the entry slot on the entry box and promptly forgot all about it.

Tuesday We got a phone call from the apparent sponsor of the Ride on Mower Contest a Smaller Alarm Company called Super Sonic Security. The Woman on the phone identified herself as Phone Drone Debbie who got our contact information off our entry card, and wanted to talk to us about Home Security AKA Alarm Company. We were all in a good mood so We decided to hear her out. So We said sure and listened to her spiel about how their company was looking to expand using word as mouth as their key strategy. Since Super Sonic Security was looking to sign up new customers they were waving this and waving that fee left and fucking right. This turned into a case of if its to good to be real deal, and My Wife and I decided there was obviously a catch and We wanted to find out what it was. At first We thought it was blatantly going to be Expensive Monthly Monitoring Fees/ Shitty Long Term  Contracts. Alas We couldn’t find a hidden catch (it was fucking mind boggling really) but without any issue with costs We decided to go with the it (since We had been discussing Alarm Systems and were officially in the market for one) and scheduled a Tech to install the System the following day between 6 and 7 pm.

Well that WAS the Catch.

Wednesday 6pm came and went and by 7 I figured for whatever the reason may be the Tech wasn’t showing up for the scheduled installation. Now since I work from home and My Wife is a Nurse (who works 12 hour shifts and being an RN there is a STRICK NO PHONE POLICY the bottomline being NO CELLPHONES AT WORK.) Super Sonic Suckurity was instructed to call Me. Anyway My Wife gets home and I tell her that the fucking Tech pulled a No Show not to mention the asshole didn’t even have the professional curtesy of a fucking phone call. My Wife informed me that the Tech had called her at 6:55pm  (5 minutes before he was supposed to be at Our House at the fucking latest.), but My Wife was driving so she didn’t answer (Good for her). The Tech left a rather long and completely confusing message on her voicemail. She then put her phone on speaker and played his message for me. It was the most fucking absurd load of rambling ranting I have bared witness to and I didn’t know if I wanted to kill this fuck or admire him for his horrendous display of Bullshit. As far as I can decipher the message was about how their expanding business is taking off and the schedule filled up. This I assume was the part of the message explaining the bullshit No Show accept We booked the appointment the previous night at 8:50 pm less than 24 hours ago. So the reasoning that they couldn’t fit us in made no fucking sense what so ever. One We ALREADY had an appointment scheduled, but these assholes solicited Us yet they seemed to be trying to play it off as We called them (and their too fucking busy for new customers which obviously is counterintuitive to the basic business model, NO CUSTOMERS NO COMPANY). The Tech then launches into the second part of his ludicrous message and starts babbling about expanding network and network capabilities pertaining to Geography or some shit. He then finishes his message of madness by saying that Super Sonic Security will call us back at a later date to discuss Alarm Instillation.

Needless to say this chapped My ass ROYALLY and I snatched up my phone and called the number the Sales Woman from earlier only to get a busy signal. I called right back and then again in several minutes but got the same busy signal each time. I then dialed the main customer service phone number and a guy named Jerk Off  Jimmy D and I aggressively asked him what the fuck is this No Show bullshit about. Jerk Off Jimmie D tells me that I have reached an Answering Service so they can’t do a damn thing but pass on a message the following morning. I told Jerk Off Jimmie D I’d like to leave a message which was Don’t Ever Contact Me Again, You had a chance a blew it right out of your ass.

That should have been that, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I’d be getting a call from the Super Sonic Security Sales Department trying to salvage the deal. Well thats exactly what happened. A Sales Rep called apologizing and kissing My ass making a string of excuses and bullshit reasons for The No Show. I told the Rep that on a professional level if their Tech can’t make a simple appointment then I have lost any/all faith in their ability to protect a pile of shit. Second the unprofessional manner ( a pet peeve of mine is anyone I’m doing business with to act in an unprofessional) in which the situation was handled pissed me off to no end on a personal level. Finally I ended the conversation by informing said Rep that their word of mouth campaign is working the only issue is the word of mouth is that their a shitty company with shittier customer service.

We have since contracted a different and far, far superior  Alarm Company to help protect Our Home Offices so alls well that ends well, and FUCK SUPER SONIC SECURITY in Their UNPROFESSIONAL ASSES.

Thanks For The Read

Les Sober  

A Fire Under My Arse

As I woke up feeling completely refreshed for the day at the everlastingly early hour of 9pm, I decided to do things different. This whole equinoxial load of crap had been taking its toll on me. Science says it has to happen but the far trappings of my mind are pure fire and brimstone.

Half and half? Half and half, you say? Well fuck that. Would you really want half and half in your daily life? I mean sure if you are my father you can put it in your coffee. The real world outside of your morning joe says oh the fuck no. Your wife is pregnant, so that is good. But the other half of you is on Maury being told emphatically, “You are NOT the father!!!!”.

You could have only gotten half the answers right on a test. You work at a bank and randomly decided to give half the people the right amount of money. You get halfway to an orgasm. So yeah the general principal does suck a hell of a fucking lot. I want things to be whole. I want myself to be whole.

Truth is when it comes down to it, we are all just a bunch of fragments bunched up into the frame that we were given. Molded together however we so choose to be.

Enough of the crap though this is not why I am really here. I am ready to have a bowel movement. The good kind. The kind a doctor would loom over the toilet bowl peer down at and say, “Why that is a healthy shit sir!”

Don’t you worry though my friend. I am not taking it on you, you or you (yes you, you lazy fuck you know who you are). My sphincter has its eye set on one person and one person alone. That is you Ms. Tori Amos. (thank you Less for getting me all riled up)

The thing is though I haven’t really always hated Tori Amos. In fact, I was one of her biggest fans. I bought all her albums, her b-sides, went to the shows. I even planned to follow her cross country, but alas that is an ill-fated tale for a blog never to be written.

I will say one nice thing about her though and a bit of a counterpoint to Less. Yes, her lyrics are extraordinarily vague but half of artists out there are vague as fuck and then the other half are Justin Bieber and friends. This is actually one of her stronger points. If it’s all spelled out in black and white sure more people might relate. Vagueness does inspire a certain group of haters. I should know I prefer to be vague as it is much better to maneuver around half truths, unspoken words, and the like.

Still though for years and years, I had this deep admiration for this woman. Call it youthful ignorance, call it what you may. I met some of the best friends I had ever had because of the love shared for her. It was a bit Me and A Gun.  Other times it was a Sorta Fairytale and A Cloud on My Tongue.

That all changed on one fateful night. Ten years ago. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I got to meet my hero or well anti-hero. I did not know what to expect.  Someone who was charming and wanted to meet her fans was a good start in my head. I did not want to come across as too cheery but who am I kidding? There is only person in the world who can make me that cheery. Thank you Molly.

This waif of a woman walked over. She was a hell of a lot fucking smaller then I had ever imagined. I mean she is a woman and I did not expect her to be Brienne of Tarth. She just looked like someone who I would walk up to on the street and be compelled to pull a cookie out of my pocket and feed to her. That cookie, you know, I may even have to chew it for her. I instantly knew what the song Girl Disappearing was about it. It was about this cokehead chick.

So you know the celebrity jitters like instantly wore off and my mom’s voice saying, “If you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything” came rushing through my head. My friend Taylor spouted off some kind of soapy bullshit and had me take a selfie. Then it was my turn. I may have said something nice or how my other friend plays her by ear I’m not really sure. She was just so uninterested that I kinda soaked in the same general vibe. Maybe she caught my aghast scowl.

That night changed me. It was like the last bit of childhood naivety being ripped from my chest. It started the moment I was 10 and found out on the news that the Tooth Fairy was a fraud. It ended with you Tori Amos.

I must say as uninterested as you were meeting the fans with your generalized look of Feed Me, I’m A Professional Widow on your face you did put on one hell of a show. In fact the best I had seen until I had the chance to witness Pearl Jam several years back. It was a cold rainy autumn evening and the playlist was reflective of the sort. Then the song that changed it all played. Famous Blue Raincoat. It was the song that played my innocence off the stage, out of the building, into the ether.

I cannot blame you for all this directly so maybe this blog is more of a Hershey squirt and less of a dirty Sanchez for you. I probably should be thanking Leonard Cohen just as much for that song, but it was you who took me there.  I guess that song playing itself out with my one of my greatest loves I will ever have taking his life and the other love in my life rapidly becoming dead to me.

I could not relate as much to your music, mostly the new albums you dropped. In just that one moment, something shut off inside of me. It may be a good thing, there’s been more calculation and clarity since that moment. I guess opinions vary on the end of innocence.

Everything though about that night. I had to wear sunglasses at the show because of the lighting, I realized that my epilepsy was real and would have to live with it. Just so much of a flood of horseshit that at the time I could not even recognize. So Tori Amos… I have a few choice words for you. Fuck you. Thank you. I’ll Make Sure to Wipe.

 

By Spacedog

Old Man Wheelchair Fights a Short Story

This is one of the funniest little story I’ve heard in far too long.

The Players:

Mr. Static: Is in his mid 60’s, Schizophrenic, had a stroke self medicating himself for his schizophrenia buy smoking a great deal of Crack, and lives in a Nursing Home.

Mr.Bobo: is in his is in his 70’s, wheelchair bound, and living in a Nursing Home.

Place: The hallway that leads into the Day Room of the Nursing Home that Mr.Static and Mr.Bobo live in. While the following exchange happened there was a Church Service being held in the aforementioned Day Room. So those who didn’t see the exchange did have the benefit of hearing it.

The Exchange:

As Mr.Static was inching down the hallway in his wheelchair Mr. Bobo was also inching his way down the hall in the opposite direction in his wheelchair. When Mr.Bobo got too close for Mr.Statics’s comfort (approximately 12-18 inches between the two men) Mr.Static growled possessed by some form of Old Man primal aggression blurted out at Mr.Bobo

“I’ll KILL YOU!!!”

Mr.Bobo Immediately responded because obviously he wasn’t taking shit form a schizophrenic angrily and rather loudly by stating that Mr. Static

“Don’t talk to me like that!! I’ll kick your fucking ass!, I’ll fuck you up!!”

A Staff Nurse named Duty interviened quickly by wheeling Mr.Bobo away in the opposite direction while telling Mr.Bobo

“Don’t listen to him you know he’s not in his right mind, you know what your saying….”

Thanks for the read.

Les Sober

If You Want To Be a Navigator You’ll Have To Navigate This

Who doesn’t enjoy the freedom provided by a good old American road trip?  A communist thats who!

Here at f-yourblog.com have just launched “ROAD TRIPPING with f-yourblog.com” Our objective is to scour the land looking for art and artists in places no one cares to look. This project is still somewhat in its infancy only being approximately 4 months since its inception.

As per usual we have a shoe string budget and are currently in need of volunteer Navigators to accompany our tireless drivers. I know your thinking volunteer means for free, but f-yourblog.com will pay for gas, repairs, food (hope you like rest area vending machines) ,and lodging as to avoid volunteers from paying for anything out of pocket.

So if your still reading and interested in becoming an f-yourblog.com volunteer Navigator here is a list of the duties preformed by a f-yourblog.com Navigator.

f-yourblog.com’s Navigator To Do List:

  1. You will be in charge of snack (again no worry it all goes on f-yourblog.com’s tab) so you must be a Snack Master. What does being a Snack Master mean exactly?! Heres an example: The driver requests meat orientated snacks. At that point you should already know that “Meat based Snacks” include but not limited to Slim Jim’s, Vienna Sausages, Beef Jerky, Hot Dogs (hot off the roller), microwavable Hamburgers/Burritos, Biltong, Pepperoni sticks, Salami, Spam, pickled sausages, Pork Rinds, Epic Exotic, and Protein Bars.
  2. You will be in charge of all tech. That means GPS/Paper Maps, Stereo, Camera, Video Camera, Walkie Talkie (used to communicate with other members of the group), Phone, updating social media with photos on the go to f-yourblog.com/Twitter/Instagram/FaceBook etc.
  3. A Navigator is also responsible for keeping the driver aware of traffic jams/tie ups, construction zones, highway accidents, Police presence, rush hour and other assorted delays
  4. You will be the sole companion for our driver so NO SLEEPING on the job/road
  5. You will be responsible for keeping tabs on basic mechanical issues such as Tires (do they need inflating? Is there a leak?), making sure at a quarter tank your driver refuels and lastly checking the oil to make sure the level is correct, and replacing windshield wipers if they become worn out.
  6. You are responsible for keeping tabs on the drivers driving. If he/she is excessively speeding, driving recklessly or violations traffic laws you are required to call Les Sober and report said behavior immediately. Remember its ALWAYS SAFETY FIRST!
  7. If there is a mechanical or medical emergency again call Les Sober IMMEDIATELY for help and instruction.
  8. If your driver gets into a confrontation its your job to back them up and if shit gets outta control its your job to call the Cops (use your own discretion)
  9. If at any point along the trip you feel like tapping out call Les and he will send you transportation back/home and a replacement asap.
  10. You will be required to keep tabs on the driver to insure he/she is safe and sober. NO DRINKING or DRUGS while driving and to make sure they aren’t too tired to be driving.

So after reading this if you are still interested in being a f-yourblog.com Navigator and can handle the various responsibilities listed above Please let us know by leaving a request in the comments section, and we will be in touch.

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“If Your Donald Trump’s Assistant Why Do You Drive A Ford Escort?” By Spacedog In His Delightfully Demented Debut

I guess some people just can’t help themselves. Some people just spurt all kinds of lies out of their mouths. I am guilty as well, heck I was caught in a tiny little lie tonight. Some people can lie about much more though. Some lies people tell are funny. Others are mean and there are even a few people that tell the lie even more then they tell the truth.
I once met a rather attractive man. He was from somewhere out on Long Island, I’m not exactly sure where at though. He was 25. So I met him in the city and he wanted to take me out to dinner. OK, why not I thought? He told me he was Donald Trump’s personal assistant. I was young. I was vain. I was thinking cha-ching. I was _________ (fill in your favorite negative word to describe me).
So he comes to Jersey to pick me up. He was driving a Ford Escort. A small little red flag went off in my head. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just cheap with his cars or maybe the beamer was in the shop.
So we go out to eat. We start driving down the road towards nothing in particular and are just talking. He pulls into the mall. I hate the goddamn mall. So I tell him and we leave the mall. It is at this moment that he tells me how much he likes Wendy’s and asks me where there is one. Not my idea of a “date” (I suppose this was a date?) I thought at least Fridays. So we end up at Wendy’s.
He buys me whatever I wanted but then he gets two things from the dollar menu and that was it. Red flag number two I thought. Hmmmmm maybe he could be anorexic? The other half of me was still trying to defend him.
So then we get to the movies. He wants to see nothing in particular and whenever I suggest a movie, he claims he already saw it and it was lame. So we  rent a movie. Red flag number 3? Oh he must be a strong man with strong opinions.
So we go and watch the movie. I go in the door, he comes in the window. We watch. He keeps complimenting me. He wants something. What does he want? Oh wait, me? But the little flags go up and my pants don’t. So he leaves after that.
About two weeks later, I go back to New York. I’m having a pretty good time, meeting people, dancing (yes I once danced), and I see someone cute. So we start talking and I tell him I’m dating someone but it isn’t really that serious. I like to talk too much so I describe the guy. He gets a distraught look on his face.”Does he work for Donald Trump?”, cute boy asks me.  “Yeah he told me that.” I reply.
Turns out he really was 35 years old, worked at the Dunkin Donuts, lived with the parents and not in the penthouse, was HIV positive, had lied to cute boy, and also infected him.
All shreds of decency for this man completely died. I wanted to throw up, I wanted to scream, I wanted to key this man’s car or worse. Then I saw cute boy and I hugged him. He didn’t deserve all this. I didn’t. No one else did.

Shady man had a decent personality and looked good but everything about him was a lie. His whole being was a lie. The few positives about him were bludgeoned. Thankfully shady man was an exception to the rule.
People still can’t help but lie. The age lie is way too common. The ages of 18,21, 29, and 39 still sends off bells and whistles in my head. 18 because I used to say that when I was 14 or 15, the rest because people like to hold on to their 20s or 30s like there is going to be some catatonic occurrence if they were actually 30 or 40.
I am 30 and damn proud. I gave the whole lets pick a random number in the 20s and be that a thought, but it quickly died there. I like to keep my lies simple. Things like: “I have to go my sister just put our rabbit in the microwave or AAAAAAHHHH I just let a squirrel in the house or my dad is attacking my mom with a meat cleaver.” Those work much better for me.
All I can really say to the true liars is this. Watch out cuz spacedog is gonna go into gay commando mode when he finds out. Anyone who’s gone out with me for drinks in Pennsy knows about this mode. Beware.

-spacedog-