Phishr Chronicles

I had spent part of my workday on the side making a playlist. I had actually been looking for the music video to an R. Kelly song where he hooks it up with the bosses wife. I was successful at finding “Down Low”.  Then I began having a flashback to 1997 and all the music that use to be cool. I started what would essentially become the “MixTape” playlist (thanks to playlist.com). I was so proud of my pump and grind playlist that I began throwing it all over facebook to anyone who was online at the exact time I was through the facebook messenger. Fellow contributor “Stink” just so happened to be online at that time. What happened next is the transcript of said conversation. Stink, I love you brotha.

Phishr wrote: http://www.playlist.com/playlist/18364439819

4:18pm - Stink - “whats that”

4:20pm - Phishr - ”kc and jojo”

4:20pm - Stink - “im not gonna listen….dont like that kinda music”

4:21pm - Phishr - “go figure… uncultured son of a b”

4:23pm - Stink - “not uncultured just dont like r &b music”

4:24pm - Phishr - “its what you pump biscuits to!”

4:25pm - Stink - “i beat guts to anything. it doesnt have to be a love song….im alwas dtf if a girl is willing”

4:27pm - Stink - “well getting off here now”

4:29pm - Matt - “im still laughing”

 Since this moment in my life took place, I have learned a thing or two about that day. But what made for quite the day.

If anyone remembered the last old party house I lived at, you know the condition of the house when we moved out so you can go ahead and skip ahead. For those who don’t, let me be the one to describe its condition.  When we moved into this house commonly known as just “Normal & Ash” named by its location the house was already a “shit-hole”.

But those “shit-holes” bring the best parties based on ANYTHING can happen to the house and it never really mattered; for it just made for another story.  This house was a corner lot house and it was a good size house for college kids. There were 3 bedrooms in the front of the house and one HUGE bedroom in the back of the house that appeared to be added on after the home was developed. I actually remember the day the lease was signed the landlord basically summed up all questions with “whatever you guys want to do… do it”. The house was naturally drafty, hardwood floors, and alone in it, was probably the scariest thing in the world. Ghost stories aside, out of the original 4 of us that moved in I was the last one to go. In my time there I had 12 roommates.  The front door to the house never closed meaning people were coming and going all of the time AND the front door seriously didn’t close (the door remained broken the entire time up until a week before I moved out)…  It was like the tenants paid rent on a house that all of Tahlequah occupied.

This house was known for visitors signing their names on the walls and ceilings.  When I was leaving the house, every wall in that WHOLE house was covered with marker. Easily thousands of signatures.  Anyways….

The day that I was moving out, my tasks were to replace a headlight in my car, clean the house, and throw away all of the remaining junk and clutter inside and outside. While outside working on my car I was approached by an old man who had asked if he could pick up all of the beer cans from around the house (to make the recycling change). This was not out of the ordinary for this town; at all. I gave the old guy permission and told him if he found anything of value around the house that he could keep it, meaning if he found unopened beers he could dust them off and drink them. The only other stipulation was that he had to pick up the remainder of the trash around the house and bag it. This oldie worked hard and within an hour he had my WHOLE yard cleaned up and bagged. This is where a normal person’s day would have ended…

But I am not a “normal” person. I am THE phishr. Let us begin the strangeness.

The gentleman asked if I had any booze in the house to drink. I had a half pint of cheap scotch lying around and so I went indoors and retrieved the bottle as he followed me.  While inside, he noted the almost vacant house and offered to clean out the cans for a 24 ounce beer. “Are you serious” I exclaimed, “Hell mister I’ll pick you up a six pack and let you keep anything you want in here if you’ll clean this house out!” he agreed, and this is how my day with “Boxcar Bill” began.

“Boxcar Bill” was the name I gave him as he thought it was clever. I sat around and drank and watched college football while Boxcar picked up trash from all over the floor. Every now and then he would come across a half smoked cigarette or a half empty beer and finish them off. This was disgusting but I enjoyed it thoroughly.  As Boxcar cleaned and spoke of days when he “used to have it all” and when “times weren’t so tough” I just listened and watched football.  Boxcar was a hard worker. I ignored half of the stuff he would tell me because well… he was who he was. As the day progressed I thought up an idea that blew all of my past ideas away.  I’m going to get his guy absolutely annihilated and see where the day goes.  As Boxcar cleaned, I ran to the store (yes I left a homeless drunkman alone in my house. It’s Tahlequah… The epicenter of trash) and picked up 4 more 99 cent tall boys, cigars, and even had the heart to make a liquor store run for more hooch for the old guy.

Upon my return home, Boxcar was cleaning behind the last couch and whistling.  It was picture perfect.  He came across this cow hat that obviously was a leftover from Halloween. Boxcar donned the stupid hat and began grunting. I grabbed my camera and told him I was going to be famous when I post these pictures on the Internet…

“IN-TEERRR-NEETTT?” Boxcar said. Holy batmobiles… This guy is oblivious to the Internet. This is amazing.  As I played paparazzi to this whack-job, he cleaned and danced around. As the day continued with Boxcar talking, stumbling, and collecting pennies he had found I noticed a change.  Boxcar Bill was not Boxcar bill anymore. His tone was getting aggressive. He told me of a story from when he lived in St. Louis and he killed 3 men with a timing belt.  “holy jeez this guy IS a whack-job”. He claims it was in self defense and only did a short amount of time for his crime. While he was in jail however he threw a man over a 5 story balcony. “Nobody fucks with me” he yelled in my face. I began getting extremely scared. this guy just told me about killing 4 men total because they were giving him a hard time. Here I am, on a chilly Saturday, exploiting a killer to clean my house for booze and crack jokes at him all day. I tried to calm him down a little. “Hey Bill, when you’re finished with that broom you can keep the handle so you can tie your luggage hanky to it while you walk down the railroad tracks.

I laughed

He glared.

I whimpered.

 I told Boxcar that he left his beer on the front porch (even though it was setting in front of him), As he walked outside I quickly slammed the door shut and locked it. He must have peaked through all of the windows while I stay hidden inside. As time passed I peered out the window to see him walking away in the evening.

Later that night I had a little get together for a friend to commemorate his graduation. upon their arrival with a keg he let it be known that he ran into the weirdo that lived in the shed house behind his house and invited the old guy to come over tonight for some beers…

You’re absolutely kidding me… No way…

Stillwater with Stink couldn’t ask for a more insane mixture, even so because we hadn’t seen one another in months. I had completely decided for an all out Ted Kennedy-esque weekend. We had a football game, a round of drinking and some all out frat guy fun, and if we could be so lucky, a dead hooker in a bridge wreck. 

Upon arrival we started out slamming beers and introducing me to his place. We started the evening out with beers before we headed to the bars. The night was turning out quite uneventful. Every bar we went to was dead. Even though it was a Friday night, I expected a little more. I had an old roommate from Tahlequah that was living in Stillwater now so with nothing else exciting happening, I decided to call him. 

Now Gerbil was newly married and I hadn’t seen them since they lived in Tahlequah, so this was going to almost be like a reunion. When we arrived it was Gerbil, his wife, and 2 girls that they worked with, both of which were attractive. Stink and I were all grins. The night was calm with us playing drinking games, exchanging stories and drinking heavier. I stepped outside with one of the girls “cowgirl” where we started kissing a little. One thing lead to another and I was headed back to the 2 girls house. As we arrived back at their house when problem number one surfaced. These two girls explained how they just got this house, there was not too much furniture on the inside; if it were possible to get inside…

Cowgirl, “Oh damn, we’re locked out.. Is there anyway you can get in?”

The home had bay windows in the front and windows wrapping all the way around surrounded by a small rock garden. I went walking window to window looking for a window that was unlocked. I checked each one moving closer to the back yard. Almost to the backyard “Cowgirl” yelled at me.

“Come up here, all the windows are locked”.

“What do you want me to do then?”

She looked at me in all seriousness and firmly said, “break in”.

I’m not a criminal, I don’t know how to card a door, pick a lock or pull a garage door off a track. She said 2 words and those words allowed me to use any resources available to gain access to the property.

I picked up the biggest rock and threw it as hard as I could through a baywindow. One of those moments where you have the opportunity to stop, reevaluate the situation and take the higher rode that will lead to the best decision. I dropped it in fourth, popped the clutch and trenched the situation. And just when things couldn’t get worse…

I broke the rest of the glass around the window to be a gentlemen so Cowgirl wouldn’t cut herself climbing in. I pushed the broken glass to the corner and we proceeded to the back room. Now remember that there was nothing in the house so we used a mexican poncho on the wall as a blanket. After this moment things got pretty blurry but what happened the other morning will never leave my memory.

I’m awaken bright and early to Cowgirl.

“Quick! Hide! My roommates mom is here!”

I’m fuzzy headed still trying to gather where I’m at, where to hide, and where all of my clothes were.

I get up and hop in the bathroom quickly. As I sit naked on the corner of the tub, I decide to use the restroom…

You can already see where this is going…

“Ok! Ok! I’m just going to go tinkle” came from the other side of the door. The door opened.

I’m standing there naked using the restroom.

“Oh gosh no”.

I can hear her gasp.

I turned and did the only reasonable thing in this situation.

“Ohhh hiiii…..”

She slammed the door and I could hear her and her daughter fighting in the living room. I could only stand there and wait.

The front door finally slammed as I could distinctly remember hearing more glass fall to the ground.

After all was said and done, I guess the roommate told her mom that they caught someone trying to break into the house and that’s how the window was broken. I cannot see how she bought that being that both of these girls couldn’t weigh over 110 lbs. a piece.  And the only thing in the house was a mexican poncho and a sombrero. They probably coud have fiesta’d the perps to death…

I was looking through an old notebook from a Business class that I had next to this cute girl. We used to write back and forth in my notebook and I came across a funny one. It’s rather short so I thought I would add it.

When we wrote back and forth she would always ask the typical questions like, “what did you do over the weekend”, “what are your plans this week” and “come over and watch me try on my new lingerie”…

Ok I made up the first two.

Anyways I was telling her about a weekend that I ate at Red Lobster, the seafood place.

“I was at Red Lobster this weekend and my waitress obviously had a fake leg because she walked like a pirate. The food was a high C; low B at the best but I give the character authenticity an A+”.

If I were a girl I’d sure date me.