Phishr Chronicles

I don’t know if anyone out there does this, but can you identify one thing that just makes your day that much better. For some people it may be seeing their children, for others, it may be watching a rear end collision. It is that one moment that defines the day, and today being Friday, something pretty astonishing would have to catch my attention to divert the only thing I can think about… Stiff Drink Friday.

Yes today is the day I and a fellow neighbor of mine have dubbed Stiff Drink Friday. I am thrilled for Fridays, as the day is just that much sweeter. But today, today something wonderful happened that could be the reason I will be in a better mood all day long. 

I had just exited onto 61st and headed west towards Memorial. 61st usually angers me because for some odd reason, the far lane between Mingo and Memorial can sometimes on good days hit speeds in excess of 35 mph.  Do not be fooled, this is not traffic congestion, people just feel that this area of Tulsa can be a real “nightmare”. There is ABSOLUTELY no reason for this to be a hazardous area. Traffic never comes to a stop for someone turning, it’s never really THAT busy.  If I can remember this part of my commute every morning and have the ability to write about it, it must piss me off… And it does.

So as I’m traveling westbound on 61st going at a rate that would give a three toed sloth restless leg syndrome I look to notice a child standing in front of his house on a side road as if someone were picking him up for school. His mother is standing next to him waiting patiently as well.  Since I obviously wasn’t going anywhere quickly, to took note of this mother and son. 

Do you remember the early Michael Jackson videos where there is an actual storyline to the video and at just the right moment Michael breaks out in this ultrasonic dance that rattles the walls? This child, no older than 8, backpack on back, mom at side, throws this move down that stopped traffic. This kid dropped these moves, rewound, refilled, and doubled up the funkiest shit I had ever seen. The kids moves could stop global warming they were so ice cold. 

It may be the Starbucks bottled frappuccino drinks I’ve had, but I can’t quit shaking. A defining moment had come acrosss this kid, and he certainly defined the moment. I will no doubt have a drink for this kid. He obviously knows his calling in life.

None of us will ever be on this level. 

On a quick note, while you are reading this, I have just boarded my flight for the production of Vegas 3.0. Enjoy!

If you are already aware of what an upper decker is, this will be a treat. If you don’t, this will be a sweet treat.

Fall 2000- It was a warm Friday. The air conditioner was pathetic in my old Blazer. The party was on the north side of our town (note that it was a little out of place for me) but the hosts’ house that was hosting the typical high school weekend party were really hot.  Our town was larger than your everyday suburban town. When you graduate with around 1000 people, there is a good chance that you don’t know a fair chunk of people; especially if I was on the southern part of town partying on the other side.

On the way to the party a buddy and I had stopped at the new Taco Bueno. I ordered a bueno chilada (the SAME thing I’ve ordered there since I was a child) and we dined down as a last attempt to ward off any hunger spells that might cross us in the evening. Upon arrival the party was already unfolding. I had to park at the end of the block. Now my buddy was someone from North so he knew everyone immediately and I was still new to most of these people. He heads to the back yard and I sit at the kitchen table for some consumption games. The night wears on and I still only know about 5 people here. I start to get impatient because everyone is walking around with this undeserved sense of personal accomplishment. Like talking to a group of realtors.  Some of the people were athletes, some were spoiled beyond rich, and some were just scrappers, (luckily I wasn’t much of a “roughian, however, my buddy was).

Even as the night went on, I still didn’t have a whole lot in common with these people except maybe the whole friend of a friend relationship, and those are always awkward:

Me, “So you know (friend)

Friend of friend, “Yeah, he/she is awesome”

Me, “Yeah, I’ve had some crazy times with him/her”

Friend of friend, “Yeah, you should have known him/her as long as I have!”

Me, “……..fuck you.”

The party was “filling beyond fire code” and the hostess was starting to kick people out that she was not familiar with. This worried me because I was a threat… And on top of all of that, the Bueno was about to make an appearance.

Hostess, “I don’t know you, you need to leave.”

Me, “I need to use your bathroom…please”.

Hostess, “Well I guess you should have thought about that before.”

What the… Thought about what? Your random ability to deny me usage to your restroom because you feel the need to show off authority and banish me from your household in front of your friends? You BITCH…

She turned around and continued to filter through people that she felt were not worthy of her parents cheap ass house.

I, on the other hand, found my way into the hall bathroom…

I locked myself into the bathroom still upset from the poor attitude I had just received.  I knew I had to be quick in the bathroom because I did not want to jeopardize my dignity by some bitchy hostess picking a bathroom lock and exposing my “no bueno”bathroom visit.

I undid my pants, and it hit me quicker then the bueno did.

[This next piece is the definition of the upper-decker.  You remove the lid to the back tank on the toilet. Once removed, one stands on the toilet lid and removes pants to knees. Pending head clearance, prankster now defecates in tank. Replace lid and walk away. This is turn will stink and continuously recycle poopy water]

I quickly gave this bathroom one bueno of an upper-decker. And for the icing on the cake, I used the decorative hand towels as my personal toilet tissue. Once I replaced the decorative towels to their respected towel racks. I was out of the bathroom in and out of the bathroom in a few minutes. None the wiser.

I can only hope that the hostess of the party had tried plunging the toilet all next morning not understanding why this was happening. Putting the plunger up and drying her hands.

I look back now and feel kind of guilty for the stint.  I demoralized this bathroom for what? Cause the girl was being a disrespectful bitch?

Yes I did.

When these crazy urges for revenge come across me, it’s usually due to a fairly good amount of pent up frustration releasing itself on one persons parade.  Unfortunately, this was not her day to act like a pain in the ass bitch. I accepted the fact that I was not familiar to her home, as did I also accept that she wanted me to leave and not use her bathroom, but…

I guess a good closing for this is, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

Can you think of a better proverb? Post it then… And it better be good, otherwise..

The sound of a shotgun cocking is an unconscious male aphrodisiac.

No doubt. When I here a shotgun cock, I start pelvic thrusting the air. I hope I can get a copy of the surveillance video if I’m ever in a bank and they rob it with shotguns… How exciting it is…

It’s like a detonator for a guy. I hear a gun cock, I’m ready. It’s a euphoric pleasure overload.

Other guns have an effect. But none like the pure duel *CLACK* of a shotgun.

A revolvers hammer coming back is like a foot massage and a turkey sandwich compared to a shotty.  The thrill of hearing a shotgun cock brings out the carnal instincts in me.

A bolt action; ehhh. It’s like a glass of wine, it’ll do, but you can’t quite grasp the full effect. One can’t just enjoy one on a night out, you end up trying to fill the void that a shotgun, and ONLY a shotgun can fill.

No wonder guns and booze are always considered a bad idea.  The booze lowers your inhibitions to clearly define and “yesser” and a “not a chance”. All girls become “ehhhhyyeeaaah”.  Than you add the mysterious repercussion the crisp sound a shotgun makes and you are a walking genital.

I could make an adult movie out of 2 hours of shotguns cocking in Bose surround sound and my lady would be the happiest gal ever.

Are you a:

girl?

Who can cock a shotgun?

email me.

Stink and I took another journey to Keystone for 4th of July 2008. It was a calm weekend filled with food, a steady pace of drinking and a 9 year old friend of the family that turned my night into, well, a story…

On the way back from the beer store, Stink is talking about the difficulties of going over bumpy roads on motorcycles.

9 year old, “My dad hit this road on his motorcycle that had like… 20 potholes in it.

It was quiet after that.

9 year old, “It was FUCKING bumpy…”

We were in tears and awww…

That day this kid continued to splash lake water in my beer (which didn’t stop me but might explain why my chest still hurts 4 days later) and throw mud at us. I wanted to challenge him to a duel, but he always would revert back to something funny which in turn would keep his death imminent.

I noticed that the more I drank, the more adult sense of humor would revert back to elementary sense of humor.  A quick example would be how Stink finally retaliated and dumped soupy mud/sand all over the top of the kids head. He replied, “ewww… it’s like diarrhea all over my head”. I would laugh because he was so vulgar it was shocking. Then night fell and the conversations began.

This kid probably sat up with us until 4 a.m. discussing some weird stuff.

9 year old, “Whats your favorite Gangland episode?”

me, “….?”

9 year old, ” I think I liked the crips episode, that tooky guy was huge”.

me, “*long pause* That one was good, did you see the one with MS13 or the nazi lowriders?”

9 year old, “Yeah! Whats a boot party?”

me, “It’s a stompdown, I’ll tell you more some other time…”

Remember that this kid is 4th or 5th grade. He does not appear out of the ordinary.

9th grader on clowns.

9y.o., “shits scary, have you ever seen the movie ‘IT’?”

me, “lalalalalalalalala, we’re not talking about that!!! lalalalala”

9y.o., “yeah, that’s some scary shit…”

9 Year Old on alcohol.

9y.o., “What kind of beer are you drinking? I got drunk for the first time when I was 3!”

me, “spewing beer out of my mouth”

stink, “JESUS! WHAT THE HELL DUDE?”

9 Year old on pets.

9y.o., “I would want a monkey, except they poo everywhere…”

me, “they say that monkeys are the carrier for aids…”

9 Year old on basketball

9y.o., “I don’t know who I like more, Shaq or Magic.”

me, “they say Magic is the carrier for aids…”

Stink, “Tommy Morrison too, they are clean now, like it went away through treatment.”

9 Year old on his own mom

9 year old pulls picture of his mom out, “she’s real pretty but she’s kinda thick..”

Stink and I laugh hysterically

9 Year old on music

9y.o. “My favorite bands are Hank Williams Jr. and Slipknot”

me, “…How? Why?”

Stink, “That makes no sense kid”

9 Year old on rap music

9y.o. “Because 2pacs crew killed biggie.”

Stink, “What about EazyE?”

me, “He had aids too.”

 CONCLUSION

Including other subjects that were completely off the wall, I’d say that the night was a success.  I learned:

-What a Banshee was (now I have ANOTHER creature to scream myself to sleep about)

-I learned that Blair Witch wasn’t a real movie based on actual events(oh piss on you, it looked real)

-The Shining will always be the scariest movie… Ever…

-Little kids can throw up if you scare them bad enough

-Tombstone the movie will never get old no matter how many times in a row you watch it

-Goat cheese is good on tostitos after drinking all day,

-And that I have finally come to terms with accepting the fact that I was just not assembled by god in a way to perform on anything that drags behind a boat.
 

Typically when a girl is this easy, you can go ahead and either expect

A) Chlamydia

B) A dramatic experience

C) An unplanned dilemma that will inevitably ruin your night

Unfortunately, a condom cannot prevent B and C.

I was partying at an old friends house when I met this cute easy little number who began openly flirting with me; if only all confrontations were this easy.

She showed me her boobs.

I smiled.

She asked to see my phallus.

I obliged.

She told me she shaved.

I asked fora viewing.

When a girl this simple comes along, you hold onto her. Not for a relationship, you never date anyone like this, unless your desperate but then you’ll always be worrying if she REALLY went to the bathroom or if she’s providing tug jobs for the rugby team in the hallway.  I always wondered what their fathers would think if they walked in on them performing said acts. Then one begins to pray that they don’t have daughters…

Our random romps went on for a few weeks. I’d call, she’d show up, we’d do what… well we’d slap ‘em. I didn’t feel guilty because quite frankly, she initiated this.  Then the unplanned dramatic experience that inevitably ruined my night decided to make it’s entrance.

I was at my friend Eskimo’s house drinking in the garage when I decided to call her up. We’re all pretty plowed and it just seemed like the right idea. She shows up and I sat down in the driveway with her. We started hooking up again in the driveway, one thing led to another and within minutes I was slappin ‘em again. Her heavy breathing turned to moans, that turned to other noises that turned into crying.

Not the good crying either.

I let up to see what all the crying was about. I was actually sensitive to her emotions.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“My daddy wouldn’t buy me a pair of shoes today! He’s so mean…”

I was astonished. Why on earth would she think of that in the middle of sex in a driveway with me.

Do I want to know? This might be one of those crazy repressed thoughts that I might have uncovered unknowingly.

“Eww, maybe you should leave right now…”

I ran into this girl about 5 years later at a festival in Stillwater, OK. She was a beer vendor. I sparked up a quick conversation with her.

“How have you been the past 5 years?’

She shot back, “good! I got married 2 years ago!”

Oh dear god, I felt sorry for her husband. If he only knew.

I sure hope he keeps that shoe closet stocked…

And stays away from rugby parties…