Quick Update

The chick just stuck her head out of the room for a sec, for whatever reason.

She totally was a hooker.

Sex.

I am currently at my hotel in Florida, on the public computer, which is on the first floor apparnetly next to some rooms. Mind you, I'm just doing some harmless facebook like stuff. Low and behold I hear a yelp coming from behind me. Didn't think anything of it, maybe someone stubbed her toe or something. Except then it happened again a minute later. And then again a few seconds later. Thats a lot of toe stubbing I think to myself. Wait a second. There's sex happening in the room directly behind me.

And the most disturbing thing is not that this woman is moaning quite audibly behind me. I feel bad for the guy. It sounds so fake. I've stayed at this hotel before. The walls are not thin. It is not that easy to hear into the room. So logic dictates that the bitch is screaming, and it is my personal belief that if she really was having that much goodness, she wouldn't be screaming like the $25 hooker she is.

This elderly Indian family just walked behind me into their room, presumably next to the sex room. In the middle of a moaning spat. I feel really bad, because the woman just had a downright disgusted look on her face and the guy was like oh...not again.

Florida

I am currently in Florida, land of ridiculous concepts and bad drivers. Hey, lets put both of these together, says one company, and let's see what happens. Enter Rent-n-Roll, your local full service rim and tire rental store. I wish I was making this shit up. Too poor to actually buy a nice car with sick rims? Now you can take those same sick rims and put them on your piece of shit car! I really wish I was making this up, because it is so fucking ridiculous.

Who does this, I mean honestly. I think this is one of the worst concepts of a business I have ever seen, and the worst part? I'm sure they will be doing great business down here.

You know what else I noticed. I was lying in bed with my eyes closed, and my Dad was surfing channels, and stopped on Springer for a second. All that show is is one person in the audience screaming whatever his or her heart desires, and the entire rest of the audience picking up on it. Like a cult or something. The topic, and people on stage are merely a catalyst into this groupthink.

All for now. More to come later, I'm sure.

Redneck Home Videos

Sometimes the best things in life are found by channel surfing. In an attempt to out do Bob Saget at his own game, the South has created their own version of America's Funniest Home Videos. Except its called Country Fried Home Videos. The show is on none other than CMT and I almost breezed right by it.


I tuned into it right at the beginning of a segment that consisted mainly of kids falling off sheep in what appeared to be Rodeo Lite. That's right ladies and gentlemen, there's this thing where people put their children on aggrivated sheep and allow them to run wild.

There are times when one thinks that perhaps redneck stereotypes are just that, stereotypes. Maybe they don't all have 8 million assorted rusted hulks on their combined lawns. Maybe they do have all their teeth. Maybe they don't take their kids to sheep rodeos. So much for old notions falling by the wayside.

Am I the only person who thinks that this is absolutely re-god-damed-diculous? I had no idea that this kind of thing existed. I mean its just so...arcane. I will admit, though, this little activity does make for some quality photographs. The expressions of these kids are priceless.

There was one final piece about a man stuck in this kid's toy pickup truck (looked like a cozy coupe), unable to get out. First off, he got his kid a mini pickup truck, and second of all he got in his kids mini pickup truck. On top of this, the commentary was that he shouldn't have bought a foreign pickup truck, and if he had bought American he wouldn't have that problem. This show is rediculous.

Unfortunately, this was the last segment of Redneck Home Videos, so I didn't get to see any other entertaining stuff except for the host, sitting in this southern restaurant (I don't want to call it a diner, because those are unique to the northeast, specifically Long Island and New Jersey) yelling at the waitress for his check. I think I really like this show so much because you're not laughing with this guy, you're laughing at him.

And now...your moment of zen:

I thought of this in the car on the way home

Do you think KY Jelly lube was invented in Kentucky?

Think about it.

What a shitshow.

What a shitshow. I don't know why it took me so long to post it, but last weekend was pretty much one of the best weekends of the summer. I was in the city all weekend, and I think that Saturday was probably the highlight of the weekend. After a few drinks (and dinner) at Leah's restaurant, Leah, Camille, and I headed over to the bar ontop of The Hotel Gansevoort, a very swanky hotel in the meatpacking district (on 9th Ave b/t W 13th and W 14th).

Besides having incredably overpriced drinks (try $15 for a cocktail) and being very hard to get into (don't even try to get in if you're a guy and have less than three girls in tow), the bar has incredable views and is a great little lounge type area--if you can afford it.

The VIP Area

So one of Leah's guys--who she admitted was a dousche bag, and was only hanging out with him cause he would pay for us tonight--said that he was getting a table and we could go there. Now before you say, hey I can't believe that bitch would do something like that, he was a complete shit and deserved much worse than Leah sucking it up to hang out with him for a limited time. Sitting up in the VIP area with bottle service, the guy ordered a bottle of Jack Daniel's. What a trashy New Jersey shit. Me and Jack Daniels hang out in my friend's unfinished basement, not in a swanky NY bar where bottle service costs upwards of $250.

On top of that, the table orders a rather large number of mohitos. I must have had 7 or 8 myself. The place was alright, but as soon as the booze finished, Leah's not really guy (who was trashed) was becoming an ever increasing schmuck, so we left, and went across the street (I think) to the Gaslight--a rather much less uptight bar. I had a nice buzz going when we left the Gansevoort, but I was very much put together. Enter the shitshow.

If you know me, you know that one of my maxims is a might with Jager is a night that is not going to end quietly. With tequila, you wake up the next morning and say "What the hell did I do last night?" With Jagermeister, you wake up and think, "Why the hell did I do that last night?" Try it sometime, you'll see my wisdom.

We're inside the Gaslight taking shots of I don't even know what. Jager, SoCo & Lime, god knows what else. I had a couple beers too, just to top it off. This girl that came with us from the Gansevoort started dancing with me and I started dancing back. Well to be more specific, she started grinding up against my peen squad. Like a fucking idiot, and I assume it was the Jager talking, we made out on the dance floor for a while, until I realized that Cami and Leah were outside, and I was probably about to get abused by Cami. So without so much as a goodbye, I walked outside, where I just got the look of what the fuck were you doing. Conveniently I gave back the look of Wow, I'm really drunk.

Leah says shes leaving, and Cami and I catch a cab back uptown. I promptly passed out in the cab, got up, got into the elevator, passed out in the elevator, and managed to comment that we probably werent having sex that night, got back to the room, and passed out again. For the night.

The next morning I woke up to Camille actually being quite sick (not from drinking) but throwing up regardless, and with what was possbily the worst hangover of my life. I couldn't think it hurt so bad. And the first thing that came to my mind: What the hell was I thinking last night?

Overall, a very successful night indeed.

My Grandma

Has cancer. It doesn't look good.