So Ed and me were getting tore up at an Applebee’s when the waitress asked “can I get you anything else?”
“Just keep the mai tais coming you dumb bitch!” Ed said.
“Keep it down, Ed,” I said.
“You can’t stop me! I’m an animal. An ANIMAL!” he replied.
So finally karaoke started and I sang “Don’t You Want Me”. Ed was at the bar, striking out with every elderly woman he talked to.
“Fuck this place,” Ed said. “A mojito for the road!”
Then some jackass walked in with his trophy wife. “Hey baby, nice pooter!” Ed yelled.
“Sir don’t talk to my wife like that. We’re Mormons.”
Ed later shagged his wife on the toilet. When he came out, he grabbed me by the arm and said “let’s go. I clogged the shitter.”
The manager came out and told us that if we didn’t leave now, he was calling the police.
“You can’t tell me to leave! This is a public place!”. Ed then sat down at the bar.
“All lives matter! And vaccines aren’t real!”
When the cops arrived, Ed told them “I’ve read the Declaration of Independence. I don’t have to carry a permit for this Remington .45!”
The cops drew their weapons and ordered him to drop it. “This is bullshit!” he said. He took one last sip of his Vegas Bomb and said “I guess this is as good of place as any” then almost opened fire.
An officer shot him in the ass and Ed groaned with pain and pleasure. “Can I get one more mimosa?” he asked before falling to the ground.
Ed was charged a misdemeanor for being a public nuisance.
I couldn’t believe it. I’d expect something like that to happen at an Olive Garden, but not at Applebee’s.
I haven’t been to Norco since I was mugged behind that high school in 95.
But I was taking Nicky, my dad, to Dale’s house in my mom’s Saturn Ion. It was a pleasant drive down I-10.
“You know,” Nicky said. “I haven’t been to Norco since I mugged a guy behind that high school in 95.”
“Well hopefully this will be your first steps towards a new beginning,” I said. “Say, when was the last time you’ve seen Jenny?”
“Not since you were born. I’m sure your mother is as beautiful as the day I met her.”
I didn’t reply.
Nicky looked out the window, taking all the sights that Riverside County had to offer. After several minutes of silence, Nicky said:
“You know, I’ve fucked everything up. I’m just a total disaster, a loser, a piece of shit, totally worthless, absolute garbage, just trash, deserve to be castrated, impaled, burned alive, and dumped into the sea. But if I’ve done one thing right in this life, it’s having a son like you. It’s made it all worthwhile.”
We continued to enjoy our drive as father and son.
We arrived at Dale’s cabin outside of town. Dale was outside, firing his rifle aimlessly into the air.
“Now Dale,” I said. “Dad gets depressed and suicidal frequently. So you might have to give him some of your unused medications from time to time.”
Dad went inside to take a nap while I went to the car to get his bags. Something glistened across the horizon out of the corner of my eye. I looked again at the eerie apparition.
“Fuckin Norco,” I thought.
Then the howling of hell echoed across the valley. A legion of bikers, renegades, outcasts, mohawks, and cenobites filled the prairie, ripping up the fields with their choppers, dirt bikes, and jacked up Dodges. Their storm cloud of dirt and smoke moved ever closer.
“Could it be?” I thought.
Dale stood in awe of the ungodly sight, paralyzed by fear.
“Dale,” I said. “Grab your G36.”
But it was too late. The ragtag army had us surrounded. The leather cladded gang bound both Dale and me and took us to an undisclosed desert location.
We were forced to our knees and the shrouds were lifted from our faces. A hooded figure, decked in black robes appeared before us. The figure slowly began to remove their coverings, revealing a face that neither resembled man nor earthly creature.
I instantly recognized this devilish being.
“Honda,” I gasped. Her face was no longer human. She was more machine than man.
She walked up to Dale and looked him up and down. “You. I don’t know you,” she said.
“But you, I never forget a face. James.”
“Honda,” I said. “What’s the meaning of this attack? If it’s money you want, then I’ve got some bad news for you.”
“SILENCE!” she yelled. She moved closer to us. “You know how I got this face. You know that you kicked my uterus into sterility. You’ve cursed me to wonder this earth as a nomad, as a castoff. Unwanted by the syndicate. Unwanted by society. This crew you see, we seek not money, or acts of deception, or extortion. We have one aim that unites us all: Revenge.”
“Okay, I’m sorry for kicking your poonan beyond repair,” I said. “But it wasn’t me that detonated all that dynamite. Randy did that. He was trying to cover his tracks. He never cared about you and Anthrax. You were both cannon fodder to whatever his deranged plan was. Come on, Honda! You know that’s true! It’s Randy you want, not me!”
Honda turned around in contemplation. After a long pause, she slammed her hands into the table in front of her, smashing it to bits. After standing over the wreckage, she directed her attention towards me.
“Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “But you and I have some unfinished business.”
Honda then slowly lifted me off the ground, gazing into my eyes, and kneed me square in the dong.
“Dick, you’re gonna have to hide your Ruger collection until dad’s suicidal tendencies go away,” I told my roommate.
Nicky Wallz was recently released from the psych ward. To help get him back on his feet, I agreed to let him stay with Dick and me.
“Aye lad are you sure Nicky’s yer da and wasn’t just trying to get out of paying you $15?” Dick asked.
“I’ve never known Nicky to lie.”
There was a knock on the door. Nicky waddled in completely disheveled and reeking of skid row.
“It’s swell of you guys to take me in. I sure do appreciate it. I’ll try not to be a burden,” Nicky said.
“You just let us know if you need anything.”
Dick called for me into the kitchen. “Aye mate, how long is he gonna be stayin’ with us? The man’s still walkin aroond in his shittee underwear,” he said.
I turned around and Nicky was pissing into an air vent.
“No no dad, the bathroom’s over here.”
Dick was right. I had to find another option.
So I went back to work at the toilet factory and in walked Dale, fresh out of the hospital after taking a sniper round to the leg during a hostage situation weeks earlier.
“Dale how’ve you been you lunatic bastard! Long time, no see,” I tell him.
He was all smiles.
“Boy I tell ya,” Dale said. “This new medication is working out great! I have absolutely no urge to walk in here with my Mossberg 12 Gauge and shoot the place up. Life’s been great!”
“I’m happy for you Dale. But how are you doing living out in the woods all by yourself?Without your family? Without friends?Completely ostracized from society? Not permitted to be within 500 yards of any school or church due to your shameful, shameful deeds?”
“Come to think of it, it is quite lonely out there,” Dale said.
“Well shit Dale, why didn’t you say something?! My father is looking for a place to stay. You two would get along great!”
I’m always happy to play matchmaker.
So I had that problem solved. Now I just had to take my dad out to Riverside County 😕
“I’m gonna slap those chilli fries right out your mouth,” Jenny, my mother, said.
“Jenny, I’m just asking you if Nicky Wallz is my father,” I replied.
“I don’t know who da fuck dis Nicky is, but he can suck my lef nut,” she said. My mother never explained how she got a Brooklyn accent.
“Ma, did you ever take in a homeless kid 30 some years ago?”
“It was da 80s, everybody was doin wacky shit then,” Jenny replied as she took a drag off her cigarette through her stoma.
I couldn’t stand to be around her when she was like this. I started to walk away.
“Where are you goin?” she asked.
“I gotta take a shit Ma!”
Later I was browsing the porno mags in Safeway when a strange woman bumped her cart into me.
“Watch it lady!” I yelled.
It was Anthrax. I haven’t seen her since I escaped from that exploding warehouse.
“Hello James,” she said.
“Anthrax”
“I just thought I should tell you that I am three months sober. I am attending AA and I am currently seeking to make amends to those I have harmed. Therefore, I apologize for drugging and kidnapping you, and putting objects up your rectum.”
I was shocked.
“Well, you are forgiven. And I am sorry for squeezing your tit and pistol whipping you unconscious,” I replied.
“I forgive you as well,” she said.
We both stood there in awkward silence. Finally I spoke up.
“Say, can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“Yes. I would like that,” Anthrax replied stoically.
We didn’t have much to say at the coffee shop. I was still hyped up on the MDMA I took earlier, so I just drank water.
“So what happened to Honda after that deadly explosion that nearly destroyed West Hollywood? Is she okay?” I asked.
“Her face was ripped off and her arms and legs were mangled beyond repair. She survived though, whisked off by the black shirt men to an undisclosed location,” Anthrax replied.
“Well that sucks. Weren’t you two close?”
“Yes. We were sisters in the crime syndicate known as TOILET: Terrorism Or the International League that Engages in Terrorism. Honda rescued me as a small child off the streets of Stockholm and trained me in the ways thievery, extortion, and deception. I owe her my life. I would do anything to find her.”
“But how did you survive that explosion?” I asked.
“I have my ways”
Anthrax continued to sip on her coffee. I took one last gulp of my water.
“Weaver’s my name. Dick Weaver,” the tall burly Scotsman told me. “I was a whaler fer 13 year. Been a private eye fer 15.”
The man was covered in hair from head to toe. He wore only plaid. And denim.
His jeans were tight.
I put out an add for a roommate to help with rent. Dick was the only one who responded.
Dick sat down, pulled a cracker out of his toboggan, then started munching.
“Listen here young lad, let’s set some ground rules. Me bein a private dick, I do ne wanchya snoopin around me business. If I catch ya, I’ll kill ya. If I see ya sippin on me Irn-bru, I’ll kill ya. If I catch ya eatin me powsowdie, I’ll eat yur cock for breakfast,” he told me.
“Fair enough,” I said.
After I showed him his bedroom, he grunted for a bit and then slammed the door. I went to bed.
The next morning, Dick was hanging up clandestinely taken pictures of naked women on the wall.
“You said you were a private eye, right?” I asked.
“Aye”
“Is this a special case you’re working on?” I inquired.
“What business is that of yurs? Eh boy? Ask again an I’ll crack open ye noggin!” Dick angerly retorted.
“I was just asking. Jesus!”
That night, I was lying in bed when I heard some stomping around then considerable hootin’ n hollerin’ outside. It was none of my business. Hours later, Dick came stumbling into my room drunk as all get-out.
“Aye boy, I got to bein pissed at the pub an met a nice ol hen behin tha bar. Aye brought er here but she got to slippin digits n me hole. Aye it was a’right first but then I shat me britches,” he said.
“So you were smashing ass and then you shit the bed?”
“Aye. I cannae sleep because the sheets are covered in shite.”
“Well climb on in.”
Dick got under the covers. We shared a shot of whisky and a few tales of his time at sea before falling fast asleep.
The next morning, I awoke to find Dick wide awake and his hair-swirled chest in full view. I was fully clothed.“Top of the mornin’ to ya,” he said.
He climbed out of bed and his buttcheeks were beaten blood red.
“Aye boy,” Dick said. “I s’pose I should be congratulatin ya. You rammed me a new one!”
So I was dropping acid at a Hoobastank concert when I got punched in the face.
“What the hell man!” I yelled.
“Oh, sorry sir, I thought you were my wife.”
Unfortunately it was at that moment when the acid kicked in. By the time band played “Naked Jock Man”, I was on an intergalactic journey with Carl Sagan.
I woke up in the ICU and the lady doctor told me that I had a “concussion and picked up an STD.” After I was discharged, I went up to the doctor and asked:
“Hey, wanna get a drink?”
“I don’t date patients,” she replied.
“Who said that this was a date? It’s just two people getting together over drinks.“
“Sir, you have hepatitis A, B, and C. You’re on the verge of both kidney and liver failure. You obviously have a massive pill addiction. AND you have crippling diabetes. If you don’t change your lifestyle right now, you will be dead in four years,” she told me.
“I’m James and I’m an alcoholic,” I was told to say in AA. “I’ve wasted the last several years of my life. I’ve lost my career, my family, and respect…all because I can’t stop drinking. I’d do anything to get it all back. But it doesn’t work that way. Yet today is a new day, and hopefully coming here will be the first of many steps towards getting my life back together.”
“Thanks for sharing, James,” the crowd said back.
Then my sponsor said “I’m Jack, I’m an alcoholic, and I hate k——— and ——— and fuck the Dutch too.” He then gave a 20 minute racist tirade in front of 50 people.
“But Jack”, I said “My kids are Vietnamese. Do you hate them too?”
“I hate anyone who ——— then ———- and ———- my penis!”, he replied.
With the crowd stunned, Jack yelled “this is where you can stick the Big Book!” Then he dropped his pants and exposed his anus.
Since I haven’t seen Jack in weeks, I have to find a new sponsor. And without a sponsor, AA bylaws don’t require sobriety 🤷♂️
After crashing my 97 Geo Metro into a tree, my family staged an intervention. My mom cried the whole time, saying “your dead father would be disappointed in you”, and my ex-wife said that “if you don’t stop drinking, you will never see your son again”.
I sat there listening to this shit until it was my turn to talk. I said, “I recognize that I *might* have a drinking problem. But…and I’m just making a suggestion…have you guys considered that YOU might have a sobriety problem?”
The cops later arrested me for property damage and I was court ordered to attend rehab. They sent me to a Fort Lauderdale treatment facility where they told me that I’m a “manic depressive” and “have unresolved issues stemming from childhood trauma”. I told them to fuck off, that psychiatry has been proven to be bullshit years ago.
Nevertheless the judge told me to attend AA. My sponsor, Jack, said that sobriety sucks and that there’s nothing wrong with alcohol because it’s a natural product from completely artificial processes.
Besides, lots of great things were done under the influence of alcohol. Ever heard of World War II?
So no, I will not be taking my clozapine and naltrexone. Things like “mental health” and “science” is liberal bullshit.
World renowned sex pervert Woody Allen said that “80 percent of success is just showing up”.
He’s right.
Throughout my career I’ve just shown up and someone hands me a paycheck. Occasionally I’ll smile and nod and blow smoke up my boss’s ass, but mostly just being physically present has been the secret to my financial security (and occasionally lack thereof).
Now it could be that my bosses think I might become a workplace shooter if they fire me, but I’ve never been terminated due to tardiness (viewing porn on a work computer is a different story).
So people often ask me “you’re poor as shit! How are you not living under a bridge?”
Well let me tell ya: budgeting and selling unused prescription pain medications.
What’s the point of buying a $60,000 Cadillac if you can’t occasionally live in it? Now shoplifting is rarely a good idea. You’d know this if you’ve ever spent enough time in Clark County, NV. And it’s completely unnecessary. Why risk jail time when you can just sell butthole pics to some Saudi “businessman”? If they blackmail you later, just say that the joke’s on them.
But I digress.
Living within your means is easy. In fact, it’s easier than spending money. All you gotta do is nothing! Dumbass.
I told my ex-wife years ago that all I need are two things: my toothbrush and my Glock 19. She left me for a Saudi oilman and tried to extort child support from me. But I told her that I ain’t paying that shit.
I still love her though. Baby, if you’re reading this, I’ll take you back whenever you’re ready but I ain’t ever gonna stop drinking.
So prioritize what’s important to you. Because that’s the secret to financial success.
The Internet Ruined Everything 