I’m working on the site so no drunken stories for a few days. I’m hoping to have pictures from last weekend uploaded soon. And no, I don’t have any of me and the cop.
All in all is all we are.
Benny
Archive for June, 2007Where did I leave off? Oh yeah, I was in the back of a cab, running from the cops. I still need to confess the rest of the weekend, so below is a chronological overview. Horoscope for Saturday, June 9th AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18) **** Speak your mind but be ready for some strong reactions. What you don’t want to do is cause more problems. If you keep that goal in mind, what proves to be a rough patch will end smoothly. Tonight: Favorite spot, favorite people. Too bad I didn’t read this on Saturday.
You see, ya can’t please everyone, so you got to please yourself. Benny
Because the weekend generated a lot of stories, I’ve decided to take it one day at a time; like a recovery program. I’ll start with Friday night, which was Tomapalooza. I arrived at Tom’s around 7:00, and felt like I was walking into The Oscars. He had setup a red carpet, complete with velvet ropes, at the entrance. While everyone scurried around getting his house ready for the party, I sat on the couch and finally watched the penultimate episode of The Sopranos. I got a little perturbed when Dani-girl moved in front of the TV to vacuum, but what are you going to do? The night contained several confrontations between Tom and me over the music selection. Sometimes I forget that it should be the host’s choice, but I couldn’t take Jay-Z and 50-Cent anymore. A little after midnight, I started to walk the two miles home. After walking a half-mile or so, I called a cab. I gave the dispatcher the address of the house I was standing in front of, and waited for the cab to arrive. About ten minutes had passed when I noticed the Po Po driving on the other side of the street towards me. Officer Friendly stared me down, made a U-turn, and pulled behind me. He turned on the flashing lights, and approached me with a flashlight beaming in my face. “What are you doing?” the cop asked. “Waiting for a cab.” “Where are you going?” “Home.” “Where have you been?” “What, are you writing a book?” “So what if I am?” “Well why don’t you leave this chapter out, and make it a mystery?” Evidentially he didn’t find me funny, and asked for identification. I explained that I didn’t have any, and gave him my name. As he started talking into his radio, I started complaining that I purposely didn’t drink and drive, and felt like I was being unfairly harassed. He walked to the back of the patrol car to escape my slurring, and I noticed my cab driving by, so I waved him over. He pulled in front of the police car, and before I slid into the back seat of the cab, I yelled, “Adios, Muchambo.” The driver (think Apu, the convenience store owner on The Simpsons) asked, “Are you in trouble?” “No, just drive.” He pulled away, and the officer didn’t give chase. Watcha gonna do when they come for you? Benny Have you ever broken up with a girlfriend, not talked with her for a week, gotten excited when she finally calls, only to find out she just wants her comforter back? Me neither.
You want a piece of my heart. You better start from the start. Benny I’m going to play a game this weekend that I haven’t played in a while. The rules are simple. I pop a Levitra pill as I’m walking into a bar or party. The clock starts ticking, and I have approximately 30 minutes to find a willing female sexual partner. I call the game “Beat the Clock.” If I’m unsuccessful, I go home alone and the game gets changed to something sounding very similar to the original.
Power Thirst – A new energy drink. (Warning: Contains profanity.) Someone’s knockin’ at the door. Somebody’s ringin’ the bell. Benny Sunday Morning on CBS ran a story on the 40th anniversary of The Summer of Love. A guy who lived through the experience explained that “back then” all of the smart people were hippies. Right. I guess all the flunkies were goofing off in Houston getting mankind to the moon. Idiot. I hope Vance and the boys had fun at the NASCAR race in Dover last weekend. I’m not sure if they stayed through Monday to watch the race which was delayed by a day due to rain. They invited me to go, but I have a job.
The penultimate episode of The Sopranos aired on Sunday. I haven’t watched it yet. I just like using the word penultimate. Never pass out around these guys. (Warning: Contains profanity.) DUI in a golf cart. The day they setup a sobriety checkpoint on a golf course will be the same day I quit playing golf. 144 Jager Bombs on the Wall – Something to keep in mind for Tomapalooza this Friday night. So I’m never gonna dance again, the way I danced with you. Benny I recently got an oil change at Wal-Mart. I usually take the Saab to the dealer for such services, but Wal-Mart was on the way home, and it had been almost 20k miles since my last one. I opted for the basic package because synthetic oil cost $60. I didn’t realize Wal-Mart had anything that cost $60. Anyway, as the attendant finished and handed the keys to me, I told him that I used synthetic oil the last time I got the oil changed. He informed me that once you introduce synthetic oil to your car’s engine, you can’t use regular oil again. I asked him if they could do anything for me, and he called the manager over to help. She was a young, attractive black woman, and yes, there is a reason I bring race into the story. I explained the situation to her, and asked if they could drain the oil and replace it with synthetic without charging me for both. After some thought, she agreed to only charge me for the second oil change. I thanked her and said, “I didn’t realize that once you go synthetic, you never go back.” I stood motionless until she broke into laughter. I apologized for my faux pas, and stared at her hot ass as she walked away. Have you ever stuck a battery operated hair trimmer up your nose, and heard a noise like a weed whacker cutting grass? Me neither. During a sales call last week, a guy told me that he was going to Omaha for the weekend. I told him that I loved that part of the country. “Have you been there a lot?” he asked. “I used to go up there almost every weekend in the 80’s. I had a friend that lived across the river in Council Bluffs.” And by friend, I mean dog track. I’m going to make a documentary film about Michael Moore and call it, “Fatso.” The winner really took to the new Cushion Track in this Hollywood Park bikini race. For the record kids, 1/8 of a mile is called a furlong. I found a video from Crowe Dog’s childhood. The set of Family Feud was auctioned on eBay. How much tail could I have gotten with this in my bedroom? I might have RPS – Restless Penis Syndrome (Warning: Contains adult material.) Bud.TV presents the Swear Jar. – Thanks, Lance M. Get right to the heart of matters. It’s the heart that matters more. Benny |
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