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June 30, 2006
The Devil Wears Prada
The Angel Wears Old Navy:
Posted by durban bud at 08:58 AM | Comments (2)
June 28, 2006
Rush Limbaugh's Boner Pills
* So Rush Limbaugh uses Viagra. Ew. That means he's having sex. Barf. But he's not married, so isn't he going against his own conservative christian values? I'm pretty certain he's not supposed to be having sex without the institution of marriage. More importantly, who is giving up their cooter to this creature? Sinners!
* So Star Jones is leaving The View. That's kinda too bad. I would love to have seen her and Rosie go at it. I wonder who'll they get to replace her. I hope Rosie shoots down that ignorant chick from Survivor. She's annoying.
* I love Kathy Griffin. Yeah, she's kinda mean sometimes, but some "fabulous" people need to be taken down a peg or two. Plus, she makes fun of herself.
* I need LASIK surgery. I can't see shit far away, and my glasses have lost one of their arms. I look pathetic trying to keep them on my face. I could get new glasses but I'd rather nip it in the durban bud. So, if there are any eye doctors out there who can do me, I sure would appreciate it. If you can do me for free, I will buy you a banana split at Maggie Moo's. Thanks.
* Toad the Wet Sprocket are coming to somewhere called Assburn, Virginia. A friend invited me to go, so I guess I will be going. I love them. They make me warm inside.
* Anger Hangover is having rat problems. Can you help her out? She makes me giggle.
Posted by durban bud at 01:10 PM | Comments (4)
June 27, 2006
Big Love
I saw one of the most beautiful things the other day; two morbidly obese women were holding hands walking down the street. I was happy they found each other. I realize their love may be cut short by diabetes or heart disease, but at least they do have this time together.
It goes to show there is someone for everyone. I do believe in the whole soulmate idea. I believe some of us do go through many soul-aquaintances for a period of time, but the real soulmate is out there, and not all of us find them unfortunately, but if you're lucky enough to find them, you will know.
I see a lot of people desperately searching to find "the one". I'm not sure it works that way. I think it happens more naturally, and without much effort.
I also see some people become so bitter and jaded about not having a partner; this negative aura breeds through their relationships with others; they may not think it shows, but it really does, and I'm sure it turns people away.
We all have baggage, all of us, and relationships are fucking hard sometimes, but it's best to check the biggest baggage before boarding the plane of love. Obviously, some of that baggage will be brought into a relationship, so you'll need to stow it neatly in the overhead compartment, and check on it periodically to make sure it hasn't shifted into a worse place. Trust me, I know this firsthand.
The bottom line is we all have someone out there who fits us like a glove. In the meantime, relax, remove resentments, take your anti-bitter pills, enjoy life and let things happen. And when it does happen, you will absolutely know.
Posted by durban bud at 11:01 AM | Comments (9)
June 26, 2006
Vaginal Weather
It's been a wet motherfucker the past few days in DC. And it's still raining. It's weird weather though; it rains, stops, gets sunny, then pours even harder.
As my friend Pam would say, "It's very vaginal out." Only she would refer to it using a much more derogatory term for the female anatomy. I would ask her why, and she would say, "Cuz it's ugly, wet, kinda humid and it smells like snapper." That kinda sums up the weather here, only I would never refer to it like that. That Pam, she's one funny cunt.
On a side note: I've noticed a lot of gay boys at the gym wearing their portable music devices strapped to their arms. I've wondered if they wear these on a specific arm to signify their favorite sexual position, like they do with arm bands and tattoos. I think they do.
Posted by durban bud at 03:28 PM | Comments (3)
June 25, 2006
Riding Green Lantern
I have a confession; I kinda want to see the new Superman movie. I've said this before; I don't go to many movies anymore cuz I find them completely unoriginal, and pandering to a lower intellect. Superman Returns looks like a slickly produced, big budget, popcorn chomping flick, but, for some reason, I do want to see what it's all about.
When I was ogling my fireman boyfriend as a child, I also had another crush; I was madly in love with Green Lantern from the Super Friends. I had a crush on an animated character; that's kinda weird. He was just my type: short dark hair, handsome, muscular, mysterious, and not the center of attention.
I used to make out with my pillow, pretending it was him. He was a good kisser. I begged him to let me ride him, and take me away every Sunday so I didn't have to go to church. But every Sunday morning, I was depressed cuz the bitch never showed up.
Recently, I watched the latest incarnation of the Super Friends, or what they now call the Justice League. When the hell did Green Lantern turn black? Not that I'm not attracted to black guys, but they should have consulted me before changing his race.
The only comic books I ever bought were of Green Lantern. I wonder what I did with those.
They should make a Green Lantern movie. They make movies of all the other super heroes, so why not him. I could play the romantic lead. And I would ride him.
Posted by durban bud at 12:12 PM | Comments (6)
June 23, 2006
Two Weeks
A friend of mine was found dead last week. He lived directly behind our place. He was an upbeat, friendly, fit guy in his early 40's who was obsessed with his work. We had him over a few times to watch movies, and he did the same with us; he would hold movie gatherings with a number of his friends.
We met him about 5 years ago on the dancefloor at Nation. We would have occasional lunches with him, and would always see him working out at the gym.
He was an immigrant from Vietnam. I know he had a tough childhood, escaping to the US when he was a child. He had a brother that lived close by, but I'm not sure where the rest of his family is.
I realize now that I really didn't know him well.
The cause of death is uncertain, but they do believe it was a suicide. One of our neighbors informed us about his death. He said he saw a number of police cars outside his home, so he inquired what was going on. Apparently, he had been dead for about two weeks before he was found.
I had lunch with him last summer to discuss doing some work for his company. He seemed to isolate after that, and I rarely saw him. I should have called.
He owned his entire row house. He rented out his basement unit, but the renter had moved out about a month ago.
The saddest part about his death is that no one seems to know anything. His friends appear to have all vanished, and not much is known about his family. We have no way to find out information. There is no obituary, no memorial service, and his body is still at the morgue.
The last time I saw him was about three weeks ago; he was working out front in his garden. We waved to him and continued walking. We should have stopped to talk, but were too selfish for idle chit-chat.
I would like to set up a memorial service, write an obituary or SOMETHING to let people know; he DID have friends.
His name was Quoc, and I will miss him.
Posted by durban bud at 11:04 AM | Comments (5)
June 22, 2006
Criss Angel
I'm not really into magicians, but this guy seems kinda cool. Please watch this video and tell me how you think they did this. I'll comment and tell you how I think they did it, but watch it first.
Posted by durban bud at 08:49 AM | Comments (8)
June 20, 2006
The Fireman
Last night at dinner, while Manhattan Furball and Suitcase Sally were discussing whether Pam Cooking Spray could be substituted for Crisco for a certain naughty sexual practice, I was still dreaming about the firemen I had seen the previous evening.
I went to Maggie Moo's in Adams Morgan to satisfy my latest addiction. As I was waiting in line, a firetruck pulled up in front of the building. A number of very attractive firemen entered and stood behind me. I was giddy. I could swear at least one of them was family.
The hottest one actually spoke to me. He said, "What flavor is the blue one?" I said, "Cotton Candy." My heart melted as he undressed me with his eyes.
Many people have asked me throughout the years when I knew I was gay, or more specifically, when I knew I liked guys' butts. I always say, when I was five.
I don't remember a whole lot during my really young years, but I do remember this. Lightning had struck a tree at our neighbors across the street. The tree had fallen onto their house. Nobody was home. A fire truck arrived at the scene. A few minutes later, a fireman knocked on our door and asked to use our phone. I didn't know who he had to call or why he couldn't just use his own radio transmission, but it didn't matter, he came into our home, and I was happy.
He used our phone in the hallway. I remember just staring at him for a long time. He was very handsome, or at least, what I considered handsome at five-years-old. I seem to recall he looked like Eddie Cibrian from Third Watch. I wanted him to take me into his firetruck, hold me on his lap, and read me some Aesop's Fables. I wanted him to take care of me.
The next morning I was at the church nursery while my parents were taking their Bible class. I played with a toy phone, pretending to be talking to the fireman. I don't remember what the hell I was saying on the phone, but I do recall the nursery "teacher" giving me weird looks, and telling me to play with other toys. Leave me alone bitch, I'm talking to my boyfriend. That's when I knew.
I got my ice cream and sat on a stool by the window. The firemen stood in front of their truck to eat theirs. I watched and watched as they took long licks. I looked to see if they had wedding rings on; they didn't. Each bite of my cotton candy ice cream got sweeter and sweeter. They were putting on a show for me; I just knew it.
The one who was undressing me with his eyes looked my way each time he took a long, slow lick. He was teasing me with his cold cream. I teased back, using both my lips to suck the cream into my mouth. He flexed his bicep as he lifted his arm to take another lick. My hot breath was causing the cotton candy to melt all over my lips. I lovingly scooped it all up with my tongue, making sure I didn't let any go to waste. I wanted to taste every drop. My ice cream was just about gone, so I slowed the pace of my licks, savoring every moment while keeping my eyes on the fireman. My heart was racing. My jaw was numb. It was inevitable, I climaxed. There was nothing left to lick. I took a deep breath and exhaled. The fireman, too, had finished. He looked flushed and sweaty. I imagined Eddie Cibrian winking at me as he boarded the truck. His job was done here. He was going to put out someone else's fire.
I wonder what happened to the fireman who made me gay. I wish I could call him. We could reminisce about the old days, and maybe share some Maggie Moo's.
Firemen will always hold a special place in my heart. *sigh*
Posted by durban bud at 06:22 AM | Comments (11)
June 19, 2006
Dog Day Afternoon
I need to get a dog, I really do. I went down to the Circle Saturday afternoon to watch the Pride of Pets. There were so many people and dogs, of course. Lots of hot guys seem to have dogs. I guess it is a good tool to meet people.
I met several dogs, but didn't really speak to their owners. Isn't it interesting how social we are with animals, but not people? When I took care of Bailey, my beagle buddy, I would notice people smiling at him on the street, but they wouldn't even acknowledge me. Imagine if we actually smiled to another human being once in awhile. You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will be as one. Blah.
Overheard:
"Isn't that dog adorable???"
"Yeah, I'd hit that."
Posted by durban bud at 10:21 AM | Comments (5)
June 16, 2006
Dear Britney
Dear Britney,
I saw your Dateline interview last night. You seem nice, but please remove that big wad of gum from your mouth before giving an interview. It's distracting, gross and "rednecky". Thanks.
All my best,
dBud
P.S. Your rack was smokin'. ;-)
Posted by durban bud at 07:08 AM | Comments (1)
June 15, 2006
Jay Leno Sux Donkey Dick
He is the Wal-Mart of late night television. So bland. So unoriginal. So mainstream. From time to time I'll tune in if he has a cool guest on, but whenever I do, he is telling the same tired jokes about the Clintons. Jay, it's time to move on. Come up with something new. I swear to god, if I'm flipping thru channels and land on his show, I always hear the word, "Clinton." I'll switch to another channel, switch back, and again, "Clinton." Ahahahahahahahaha! Douche.
Letterman is ten times better. Yeah, he does Clinton jokes too, but not every fucking night. At least Letterman is funny.
Last night I watched cuz his guests included Kunty Koulter and George Carlin. I was hoping he would grill her, or at least let Carlin have at her, but no such thing occurred. He coddled and kissed her boney ass. I realize he's a comedian, but c'mon, at least try to be somewhat outrageous. When is Conan taking over?
You know I'm right.
Posted by durban bud at 10:03 AM | Comments (5)
June 14, 2006
Easy Like Sunday Morning
A couple years ago Tos told me to join Friendster, so I did (cuz I'm easy). I haven't really been "into it", but I do check it out from time to time. It's low maintenance and seems like a good tool to meet people and/or keep in touch with others.
Last year, my friend Pam told me I "had to" join this popular thing called "MySpace", so I did (cuz I'm easy). She's like, "Uh mah god, you just have to join this thang, it's, uh mah god, just so phuckin' cool," or something like that. So I just posted a pic and my name, and that's all. A few days ago, I updated my profile by adding the same shit I put on my Friendster profile. Now I'm concerned. Is MySpace meant for 14-year-olds? After updating my profile, I received some unusual people wanting to be my "friend." They were young twinks looking for sex. Ew. What the hell did she get me into? Should I remove my profile? Should I call the police? Do you like how I "emphasis" things with quotes?
And how come it says that Tom is my friend. I don't know him. He's like an administrator or moderator. It says I only have one friend. That makes me sad. I don't want to know Tom.
Yesterday, I joined something called Connexion. It seems like a cool way to meet some fellow homosexuals. Someone emailed me last month about chatting on it, so I finally joined (cuz I'm easy).
This here blog helps people get to know me, but I really don't know any of you, so I thought these tools might help with that. But what do I know.
Unrelated
Are there any tech geeks out there who might offer me some advice on how to get my laptop working again? It won't let me bring up any web pages. The Internet connection works fine; it just freezes up when I try to open a web page. I would call Dell support, but I really don't feel like being transferred to India, and being on hold for hours. I think it might have something to do with my IP address. This all occurred when Norton security told me to download their latest updates, so I did (cuz I'm easy), and now the fucker won't work. Those bastards! I already tried to restore to an earlier time, but it still won't work.
If someone could offer a suggestion, please email me. I would be most grateful. If it works again, your reward will be my thanks and maybe a Hershey's Kiss (cuz I'm easy).
Posted by durban bud at 10:14 AM | Comments (5)
June 13, 2006
Let's Go Tubing!
Are you sad? Bored? Lonely? Then maybe you should check out these short comedy clips to help alleviate some of your pain. I'm here to help.
Let's go tubing! Shall we?
Do You Need Help, Little Man? (from Scare Tactics)
Beauty Pageants Are Stupid
They crown the wrong winner. Genius.
Lifted from D-listed
Ms. Streisand Has a Hair in Her Mouth and Can't Perform
Hope is Emo
A Leprechaun in Alabama
Lifted from D-listed
Posted by durban bud at 11:23 AM | Comments (1)
June 12, 2006
LGBT Agnostic Chickens
It was a beautiful weekend here in DC. Perfect weather. Perfect company. Perfect fun.
That said, I thought the parade was kinda lame this year:
The Running For DC Mayor Parade was disguised as the Pride Parade.
There were very few drag queens; usually we see Miss Gay Virginia or Miss Gay Thomas Circle or Miss Gay Church St. in Between 17th and 18th, but not this year. Where were they?
There was also a huge lull between some of the marchers, and none of the floats were all that unique. The parade is sadly in need of a durban bud float. Next year, baby. :)
We still had a great time. Our buds, Tim & Donn, came into town, so we grabbed a bite and headed to Blowoff. I was exhausted but still had fun. I don't think I've ever been to a club and had iced coffee as my main beverage. Times are definitely a-changin' for this big geek.
I did my "one, two, tap my foot, shift weight to the other leg, one, two, tap my foot" dance. It was all well and good for about one song. Then my dance changed to "one, two, tap my foot, inhale smoke, shift my weight to other leg, one, two, rub my burning eyes from insensitive out-of-town otter boy blowing smoke in my face." I can't wait until January when that shit is banned from these establishments.
The weather couldn't have been better for the festival. It was sunny and warm with NO humidity. That is a first in the 10+ years that I have been going. We saw lots of friends, but Tim & Donn appeared to run into a lot more people than we did, and they're from like, the Baltimore area.
Me: How do you know all these guys?
Donn: Manhunt.
At the Pride festival, there is a booth for every type of cause and company. HGTV had their own booth. I believe it was right next to the LGBT Agnostic Chickens booth. HGTV is Rob's favorite station. It was okay to watch the first few months after 9/11, but now I'm so sick of it. Watching people shopping for a new home or renovating one of their rooms is either incredibly boring or very stressful. I start to feel envious or annoyed like, "Why didn't we do that when we were renovating?" Rob would remind me, "Cuz we ran out of money." Oh, yeah. I wish they had a Gay Court TV booth instead. I could be the new narrator for Forensssssic Filessssss.
I think I have enough Pride to last me until next year.
Posted by durban bud at 02:06 PM | Comments (3)
June 09, 2006
Hello Frissssssco
Happy Pride! The gayest weekend of them all is upon us here in DC, and the neighborhood is all a-flutter with flags and streamers. Woo-hoo.
I actually like Pride. It's fun and silly and just a good time. I used to be one of those "the parade is over the top and makes us look bad to the straight world" people, but I ain't like that anymore. It's cool being around all my peeps, and not taking life too seriously.
I don't have anything against dance artists but it would be nice to get some big name rock musicians to perform once in awhile at the festival. It'd be cool to get Elton, Rufus, or Indigo Girls for a change, or even homo-friendly Green Day. I guess the venue is way too small for them, but a boy can dream.
Instead we'll get to see Thelma Houston (again!) perform her one hit, "Don't Leave Me This Way" (again!). And I can't wait to hear CeCe Peniston sing "Finally" for the umpteenth time. Whatever, it's nice of them to sign on to this event (again!), so I'll keep my bitching to a minimum. I'd prefer Pet Shop Boys or Erasure as the dance artists though.
I think next year I should have a durban bud float, complete with my DC blogger buds; it would be so rad! Did I just say rad? It would go sumthin' like this:
Tos would be our go-go boy and shake his thang like he used to do on the blocks at Nation. Bob and Rich would DJ. Carl, Crisafer, and Sean would dance shirtless in front of the DJ booth while wearing their leather chaps. Bubula & Mumi would perform their colorguard routine in their jockstraps. Dumbek and Dinger would throw candy, beads, Dixie Chicks CDs and anti-Scientology pamphlets to the crowd. Mr. Bartender would serve drinks and perform karaoke to Ani Defranco songs as he collected tips from everyone. Jimbo would hold up large cardboard cut-outs of Ben Cohen. Anger Hangover would recite her blog entries from a Live Journal megaphone. Tom would dress in drag as Ann Colter while the men in chaps flog her. Autoerratic would pull the float in one of his fancy new cars. And Sarah would photograph the whole event wearing only her teddy.
What do you think? Rad, huh? I think it could work! We would easily win best float, hands down.
In the meantime, I'll be hittin' the parade, Blowoff and the festival. See you there!
It would be nice if this guy could be there this weekend, but I doubt his wife would let him go. Whatever.
Posted by durban bud at 12:45 PM | Comments (6)
June 08, 2006
Meth Madness
I've learned not to judge anyone's experience with drugs with my own history. I remember sitting in group therapy listening to other's stories and thinking, wow, this person's life is far worse than mine could ever be. Many of their stories included childhood abuse by the hand of their parents, constant marital strife, or post traumatic stress disorder. I spoke up and said I felt bad divulging my own story because it didn't involve any of these events, and was kinda boring, for lack of a better word. I was told that everyone's experiences are all relative, and they are just as bad; they affect other people in your life, and it would, at some point, fester to the point of what these other people have been through if not treated. And I firmly believe that now.
It is interesting to note that I did not meet one meth addict while I was in the 'hab. Since returning home, I have met and made friends with several recovering crystal meth addicts. These guys have major stories, and they all seem and look so normal; you would never be able to tell the torment that drug has taken on their lives.
I am amazed that I never got addicted to the junk, considering my addictive personality. I definitely dabbled in it, mostly during my clubbing days. When I would start to grow tired on the dance floor, there was always someone there to offer me a "pick me up." I would do it, dance for a few more hours, go home, have hot sex, and then scrub the hell out of the bathroom floor. "Tina" was always a good cleaning mechanism. Sad but true.
I think the main reason I never succumbed to its alluring pull was the severe crash one would experience a couple days after doing it. It sinks you into a bottomless pit, in which you are this close to blowing your brains out. Sorry, but that's enough reason for me never wanting to do the shit on a regular basis. Ugh, those were some dark days.
Most of the tina addicts I've met have all used for sex purposes. The Internet, sex and meth all got meshed into their daily routines. Now that they are clean, it is hard for them to experience sex in a normal manner. They can't disassociate the drug from the sex.
The sex usually involved meeting guys online, so some of them can't even use their own computers anymore. It's so fucked up. I never knew of this extreme correlation, but it is very prevelent in my community I am now learning.
It also keeps you awake for days, when you begin to exhibit psychotic behavior; it rots out your teeth; you become paranoid and isolated; and it makes it difficult to communicate effectively with other people.
Many of these guys now speak like Captain Kirk. They. Don't. Make. They. Don't. I don't know. Make. A. Lot. Of. Sense. When. Trying. To. Speak.
It is also much easier to relapse from meth. People talk about having "using dreams." The smell of it, the taste of it, the feeling of it is still so readily "craved" by their senses, it's much more difficult to just walk away from.
I'm not preaching; do as you will. I'm just saying from my own experience and from my front row spectator seat at the addiction game, this shit will destroy many aspects of your life, if not your life.
Posted by durban bud at 01:03 PM | Comments (0)
June 07, 2006
30, Baby!
Today, my bud, Tos, celebrates his 30 years on this planet.
He has been an amazing friend to me, and I am very fortunate to have him in my life. In our five years of friendship we have already gone through so much together, the wonderful times and the bad. From his coming out to my stint in rehab, we have seen it all, and he has always been there for me, and I love him dearly.
The first time we got to hang out was at a Depeche Mode concert. He bears an uncanny resemblance to the lead singer, Dave Gahan. In fact, people were coming up to him during the opening act's performance and asking him for his autograph. People were staring at him and pointing. I, of course, had to play along so I would nod to his fans and ask them to respect his privacy. It was a good time.
We naturally got along. We are so similar, it's almost eerie. We usually know what the other is thinking and can finish each other's sentences. We almost always call each other, email, or IM at the exact same time. We're also filthy, naughty pigs at heart.
We also share many differences that help to keep our friendship interesting. I do not share his extensive repertoire of show tunes, and he does not share my affection for all things grunge. He has a much stronger professional drive, I am more laid back. He is naturally smooth, and I have the hirsute thing going for me. He is much more social and outspoken, I'm more of a quiet loner.
He has a unique talent of acquiring knowledge on almost every subject; that's why we nickname him Encyclopedia Tos. If we need to know what type of laptop would be the best to purchase these days, we ask Tos. If we need to know what airline has the cheapest fare to Kenya, we ask Tos. If we need to know which congressman to contact regarding the latest energy policy, we ask Tos. And, of course, if we need to know which harness or cockring is the best deal at the Leather Rack, we ask Tos.
My 30's have been an amazing learning experience. I feel that I have grown so much, and I am only half way through them. So Tos, the best is yet to come.
I have many close friends who I love and adore, but today is his day to be acknowledged, so please wish him the best birthday ever.
I love you, buddy! Happy Birthday!
Oh, and "Reach out, touch faith..."
Posted by durban bud at 08:56 AM | Comments (3)
June 06, 2006
Kunty Koulter
So today is 666, you know what that means...
Ann Colter's new book is released today! Yay! Cue the Exorcist theme here. It's called Clitless or something.
I'm deliberately spelling her name wrong so her wacky fans don't google her and come to my site. I learned my lesson when I did an entry on (the spelling variation of) Kamel Toez. The perverted freaks come out in droves for that shit.
Anyway, I'm convinced Annie has a dick. She's a man, baby! She should be a proud transsexual and just come out. There's nothing wrong with it, but don't pretend like you're not, when you clearly are.
She's in her mid-forties, never been married, has no tits, a prominent adam's apple, big hands, a voice that sounds like Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs, and she is OBSESSED with gay marriage. I picture her putting her little dick between her legs, and saying, "Fuck me hard" or "Liberals suck".
If you read most of her columns, she constantly references gays. Of course, she does it to trash them, but aren't some of the most vile outspoken homophobes secretly whacking off to butt sex?
I used to get mad when I would see her on TV, or read something she said, but now I find her a joke. She is so over the top ignorant and mean that she can't be taken seriously. If you do take her seriously and think she speaks the truth, then you are retarded and require 24-hour supervision.
I love watching shows with people like her on them. The 700 Club is one of my favorite comedies. These people live a different reality. They live in their own bubble and only want a world with people just like them in it. Annie is frequently a guest on that show. Does Pat Robertson realize he's promoting a transsexual? I love it!
So if you're looking for a great read this summer that will have you in stitches, go to your local library and request a copy of Clitless. We need to support our community, regardless of dick size!
And remember..."It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose..."
Kunty Koulter on the Today Show to promote Clitless (and ends up pissing off more people):
Kathy Griffin's Response to Kunty Koulter:
Posted by durban bud at 08:59 AM | Comments (3)
June 04, 2006
Damien
I met the anti-christ today. He was disguised as a 3-year old African American boy.
I worked out this morning, and afterwards grabbed the Sunday paper and took it next door to the Health Bar to chill out, read and consume some coffee. It was quiet and pleasant, only a few other people were in the restaurant.
A man sat down with a young child and ordered breakfast. His order included protein pancakes for himself and a smoothie for the kid. For the love of god, you NEVER order smoothies for anyone under the age of twelve. A 24 ounce sugar shake is just a bad idea.
I got through the first couple sections of the paper in relative peace, the calm before the storm. And. Then. I hear this uncontrollable giggling, followed by screaming. I keep my head in the paper so as not to make eye contact. Please go away, please go away.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice a flash of lightning, or what appears to be lightning. The screaming has now been redistributed to the other side of the restaurant. I lower my paper ever so slightly, and witness Speedy Gonzales blazing all over the place. Jesus, please don't come over to my table, please don't. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!," he yells as he jumps on my booth. Fuck, now I have to pretend like he's cute and adorable.
"Hi there," I wave.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"What's your name?"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Between screams, I swear I can hear him say, "Your mother sucks cocks in Hell."
He yanks the paper out of my hands, puts his head in my lap, screams, and promptly farts. "You are a disgusting foul creature," I want to say. I would have pepper sprayed the bitch if we were alone.
His baby daddy finally comes over to retrieve him, but not before he throws all of the sections of my paper onto the floor. "Leave the man alone," the daddy shouts. The kid hops off the booth, grabs the Travel section of the paper, throws it at me, laughs and jumps back up. I fake laugh, but I can't breathe from all the ammonia and hydrogen sulfide seeping out of Damien's ass. Is this beast still wearing a diaper?
He starts crumpling the Arts section. That's it, mini-Mephistopheles! Don't you dare fuck with the Arts section! Here, take the Sports page instead. Rip it to shreads, bitch. I don't care!
"Pick up the papers for the man." Yeah, Damien, pick up my papers. Instead, he head-butts my chest.
"He's quite a character," I tell the anti-christ's father. "Yeah, he's somethin'. Sorry about your papers." "It's okay." Not really. I wanted to add, "If we kill him now, we will save all of mankind. What do you think?" But I don't.
For some reason I start channeling Supernanny, and in a lame British accent I mumble, "Someone needs to go to his naughty mat." What? Where the fuck did THAT come from? I scared myself. But I was right. Somebody needed to discipline Rosemary's Baby. He DID need to go to his naughty mat, if his naughty mat was back in hell.
Damien notices two women eating peacefully nearby me. I can see the darkness in his eyes. The music to "Ave Satani" begins to play. A couple crows fly by outside. He's contemplating his next reign of terror. He leaps up and pounces on the poor women. I hear Daddy Damien apologizing to his latest victims.
I gathered my newspaper, finished my coffee and ran home. I took a long shower to wash the diabolism from my skin.
Satan's children are very different. Pure evil is in their eyes. They stalk their prey, and attack without warning.
The anti-christ is alive and well in America, folks. His name is Damien. And he likes smoothies.
Posted by durban bud at 07:35 PM | Comments (5)
June 01, 2006
The Jalapeno Incident
* There can be problems with sharing an iTunes library of songs with another member of your household. And the problem goes somethin' like this: You update your iPod via the household computer. You go to the gym for a grueling cardio workout. You listen to all your favorite tunes on shuffle while running on treadmill. A song comes on you are not familiar with. An excruciating voice starts wailing the lyrics. You pull out your iPod to see what artist is making this noisy mess. You can't make out the name cuz sweat is dripping on screen. You attempt to wipe off screen while still running. You start to see the name. You let out a loud yelp as you read the word FANTASIA. You cringe. You scream. You start to wonder how the hell this artist made it onto your iPod. You try to skip to the next song but realize you have instead started the same song over again. You try to slow down your run so you do not make the same mistake again. Your iPod falls off the treadmill. You lose control. Your legs give out, Fantasia's voice has already made them wobbly. You slip. Your knee hits the treadmill track. A loud noise is created inside the gym. The track pulls you off the machine. You look to see if anyone notices. They do. You smile and remember that Chumbawamba song, "Tubthumping". You hum the lyrics, "I get knocked down, but I get up again, ain't nobody ever gonna keep me down." You grab your iPod, get back up and resume workout. You confront your partner when you get home about the song. You sleep in separate rooms that night.
* I noticed this very attractive guy the other day as I was crossing the street. He was a hot little muscle cub. We stared at each other but as he got closer, my enthusiasm plummeted. He was chomping a big wad of gum. Ewwwwww. That is such a big turn-off for me. If he were a cow, and he was chewing hay, I would be more understanding, but he is a human being (I think), and there is just no reason to chomp your cud like that. None. End of story.
* If you dice up a little jalapeno to add some flava to your lunch burrito, please make sure you wash your hands THOROUGHLY before attempting masturbation, even if the masturbation is going to occur about 3 hours later. Okay? I'm serious.
Lube + Jalapeno Juice = Crotch Hellfire.
And that's all I'm gonna say about that matter.
Posted by durban bud at 11:38 AM | Comments (6)