It's Pretty Esoteric

I got a text from Mary this morning about the Shamwow guy. She was curious why I neglected to mention his run in with some hooker who bit his tongue or something. And I had forgotten I'd heard about it to be honest. But, Mary makes a point on this Shamwow guy. Not only is he obviously a shameless huckster and a total tool on those infomercials, but he's also a piece of shit with hookers. I'm sure the guy has made a killing on the Shamwow and can afford as many hookers as he pleases, but it's still pretty sad to see someone so awful do awful things to nice upstanding call girls like this Shamwow guy does. Me, I don't get freaky like that. Biting tongues is not my thing. I've been with some biters believe me, but not tongue biters. I'm also not down with speaking in tongues. Those folks freak me out. I saw a guy do it one time when I was maybe 12 or 13. He was racing around, apparently overcome with the spirit of the lord or the lord of the dance or something and he was making up words and screaming. It reminded me a lot of the way retards talk when they get worked up over not being allowed to beat off for the 10th time in one day. It's a bit unnerving, if you get my drift. Anyway, maybe this Shamwow guy likes to get all wild with retard hookers who speak in tongues. I have no idea, but it's his money, and if financially helping out the retard/hooker/charismatic set is his thing or his charity, then I say God bless him. Why not? Are you catching all this cameraman?

A guy here in the ATL who I gave the blog address to a few weeks back had an interesting comment recently about this blog. He said "It's pretty esoteric." And that's true. It really is. In fact, I said in reply to his statement "That's true. It really is."

Out last night at the Royal Soak and it was a dream scenario. At the bar from about 12:30 to 2 was yours truly, to my left was Elizabitch (see post from a few weeks ago), to my right was old Danny, and to his right was Khaki Pants (see post from early last month about Khaki Pants). And it turns out that Elizabitch is not a fan of Khaki Pants at all. She kept telling me what an awful slut Khaki Pants is. And so there was some tension between the 2 of them. Danny spent a good deal of the time talking to Khaki Pants. But I did have a very interesting conversation with her (and yes, she was wearing khaki pants last night). And it went something like this (admittedly I'm a little blurry on this - thanks to copious amounts of Jack and Ginger - it's the only way I could possibly carry on a conversation with Elizabitch for over an hour):

TBFH-Hey Khaki Pants, do you ever wear anything but khaki pants?

KP - Yes. All the time.

TBFH-Well, I would die to see you in anything else. In fact, I'll make this promise to you Khaki Pants - if you wear anything other than khaki pants, I will take you out to any restaurant of your choosing in Atlanta.

KP- You know, I do have a name! You just keep calling me Khaki Pants! My name is--

TBFH- Wait!!! Don't tell me. I'd rather just call you Khaki Pants. Please don't tell me your name. Please. (Note - at this point old Danny was on the floor laughing)

KP- Okay, calm down. You're screaming for Christ's sake. Maybe if I wore a nice little black dress, and you can take me to this Sushi place. You, you (she was stammering a bit) will not be disappointed.

TBFH- I don't believe you own a black dress Khaki Pants. I just don't.

KP- No. I do. You are such an asshole.

TBFH - Of course I am, you just figured that out?

KP- We will go to this Sushi place together and I will wear this killer little black dress I have.

TBFH - OK. My only worry is that it will make your ass look even bigger than the khaki pants do Khaki Pants.

KP - You like my ass honey? Is that it. I have a nice ass. You should see it out of the khaki pants. (Note -And maybe it is a nice ass, I have no idea. But it does appear large in the khaki pants she favors - actually during this whole conversation I was staring at her breasts, she was really heaving them out there in some V-neck black top - I mean heaving them out there.)

TBFH- Fine, fine, you have a great ass, whatever. Can I make one last request for this dinner thing?

KP- Sure. What baby?

TBFH -Can you show up topless with a black skirt on instead?

And then things got dicey. They really did.

I noticed where Barack Hussein Obama said this during his "press" conference the other night - "We have saved or created 150,000 jobs." He said this in relation to the package stimulation he rammed through Congress - that nobody read before voting on it. And that quote is one of the more Orwellian things I've heard someone say, ever. With unemployment rising since he took office, old Barry claims that he's "saved" jobs from being lost. He's claiming that without his stimulating packages deal, that even more people would be out of work. He's "saving" us - like a messiah. Unbelievable, how anyone takes the guy seriously is beyond me. Unless you've brainwashed yourself and follow him like those people who followed Jim Jones (the dude who had his followers drink some Kool Aid), I have no idea how you could listen to anything the guy is saying. Old Barry sounds simply preposterous. But people love him - he's getting away with it. God bless him, the poor bastard.

Well, I am becoming convinced that the Faceshit might be the ruin of me yet. I got a notice from some Alumni woman about a reunion coming up in July. And I was already a little depressed over the fact that it will be 20 years since I graduated. But now, they are gonna throw some party to depress me even further? The woman was very nice that contacted me. I wrote her back and told her that I only remember like 10 people from my class (which is true, there were just over 30 kids in the class total anyway). Why would I want to party with people I've forgotten ever existed? And why would they want to see someone like me who isn't even a decent enough person to remember them? As for the classmates I do remember, that's where things become a double-edged butter knife - I would get a kick out of seeing several of the guys I was friends with. I really would - about 4 or 5 of them anyway. That would be fine. They are such good guys. The problem is that there might be this girl there, and I have written about her briefly on this blog (and could fill up tens of thousands of words on here describing the times we had - crazy, funny, poignant, sad, and ultimately melancholy stories - they would depress me to tears at points, hence I haven't told them). And if you ever wanted to meet a girl who actually got me, got what I was saying, a girl who could see right through the silliness and the Holden Caulfield complex, it's this girl. So, I don't think I'm gonna go to the thing. I'd be a mess. I really would. I'd last about 2 minutes before I had to turn around and leave. Seriously. The damn Faceshit. Unbelievable.

I was wandering around the office here awhile ago. And I was answering some folks questions (I seem to endlessly answer questions). And one of the ladies said this, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Dennis Quaid?" And probably over a thousand people have told me that over the years. And I always give the same response to the question "Well, I guess it's better than looking like Randy Quaid." It's the best response I can come up with. What am I supposed to say??? And the ironic thing about the fact that I do look like Dennis Quaid, or I'd argue that Dennis Quaid resembles me, is that there is this girl (not the same one I mentioned above) that I have been known to hang out with from to time, that has a very strong Meg Ryan thing going on herself. And I'm dead serious about that.

I was out at the dive bar for the trivia last night (Smug Fatty wasn't out for some reason) and there was this group of 3 pretty big girls behind me. And a little over halfway through the game one of them stops me as I'm walking to the bar stool and says "How do you know so much?" And I said "Oh simple, I don't vote for the Democrat party." And she found this amusing and said "Are you team FU?" And I said "No. I think FU are the old dudes over there (they play pretty well except for pop culture)." And this big and kind of Italian looking girl says "Well we've noticed you here the past month. Don't you usually win?" And I said "About 1/2 the time." And she said "What name do you use?" And as I've noted on here before, I change names often to keep people off balance (black ops). So I said, "Tonight it's the JDFS?" She said "What?" I said "The John Denver Flight School." She said "You're funny and has anyone ever told you that you look like Dennis Quaid?" And I said "Listen. There is not enough Jack in this bar for me to even graze my wrist across your arm. So let's not go down this road." And she looked over at her also Italian looking big friend and said "Asshole." They left me alone after that.

I saw where Barack Hussien Obama decided to terrorize the folks in New York by doing some photo op of Air Force One flying over Manhattan. And they didn't bother to tell the folks working in the area that this was happening. And these poor people freaked out and panicked, thinking another attack was imminent. Old Barry, terrorizing his own people. That's classy dude.

I went home with a waitress

The way I always do

How was I to know

She was with the Russians too

Peace -TBFH