Classic Weekend

My first weekend back to Philly felt like a flashback from college. I was supposed to "not drink" or "not drink too much." Well, that didnt really happen. On Friday, a group of us started out at 19 for Happy Hour. Its a swank place on the 19th floor of the Bellevue Building filled with business men in suits, old ladies with too much gold on, and frilly drinks with red sugared rims. Not exactly my cup of tea but it has a great view and the 2 girly gin martinis hit the spot.

From there, a few of us headed to Chinatown for cheap Malaysian food. One great thing about Philly is its filled with awesome BYOB restaurants. You bring a bottle of wine (or in some cases Tequilla) you order cheap family style plates, you eat, drink, and leave merry. The 3 of us finished off a bottle of wine over the next hour and moved on.

An hour later, I am doing my best to sing David Bowie's "Dancing with Myself" at Yakitori boy in Chinatown. I may have nailed 3 or 4 words total. It was a horrible rendition. I wasnt really sure if we had drinks there, but Nathan said that I bought him 2 drinks which means I probably had 3. My older brother Bill showed up from NY as we were leaving. We spend the next 5 minutes arguing with 2 douchebags from NJ who wanted to fight. It was definitely close to a beatdown for all of us, but I settled the dispute. I had to go back in to close my tab and ended up in the elevator with 3 of the DBs. We made up and by the time we hit the 2nd floor, they asked me to go fight WITH them. I closed my tab and left before the main event started. I can guarantee someone got sucker punched or a bottle over the head that night.

My younger brother Ken was coming to pick us up but we had an hour to kill so Bill, Nathan and I headed to one of my old favorite spots for the 2 dollar special. That includes a watered down shot of Jim Beam and a can of PBR. 2 specials each later, Ken was outside. He picked us up, dropped Nathan off, and drove us back to NJ. We ended up stopping at a local hick/biker/old high school bar in NJ. Some dude runs up and is like "Hey buddy, how are you" with great excitement. I had no clue who it was and still dont remember after he told me his name 5 times. We ended up staying until closing and I forgot about the whole night...most importantly, the "no drinking" concept.

The next night, Ken and I headed to Atlantic City for a midnight poker tournament at Harrahs. To make a long story short, we both lost and got home at about 4:30 AM. We ate pizza at my parents house and passed out at about 5:30. The bright side - no drinks. My grandparents came into town the night before and we had plans for a diner breakfast at 7:30. I slept for an hour and half and jumped right up. Its amazing how much more energy you have if you dont down random alcohol all night. I headed to the diner feeling great.

My grandmother has dimensia and alzheimers and really has no clue what she is saying half of the time. I sat her between myself and Bill since we seem to have the most patience. She started with her usual end of the world stories, the trailer she bought in Florida which was meant to be a "girls house", the meteor that hit her house and bounced into the ocean, and how she saw the sun bleeding in the sky. Ive hear each of those stories a million times but nothing prepared me for what was next. I will start with saying her name is Louise. Im in the middle of spooning some eggs and scrapple in my mouth when she leans in and says... "No sex for Louise in 10 years, all he wants is blowjobs." Lets hope she was talking about my grandfather. 

When Im 80 and crazy, I hope Im still getting some action too. 

America's Team?

America was built on lies, corruption, bribery, and cheating. Its no wonder they call the Dallas Cowboys "America's Team."

In case you missed the most horrible spot and challenge review in the history of the NFL, see below.

"Don't Give Up"

This directly relates to my post about Seattle drivers. 

Just dont give up!

The Chicken Killer

It started out about 20 years ago. I was living with my parents in South Jersey just west of the Pine Barrens. Its a rural area and there was a corn field across the street and about 2 miles of woods in the back. We had neighbors that lived close by... about 200 yards or so away. At the time, they had several goats and sheep, a few ducks and a handful of chickens. We were all sitting on their back porch one night when the most terrifying scream came from the woods. It sounded kinda like a cat in pain, maybe a small child. It was surreal and none of us have ever heard a scream like that. I was scared. We all were. Many people heard the noise that summer and I even heard it one morning while I was waiting for the bus. I spent every night staring at the window, not sleeping, and jumping to each gust of wind. My parents blamed it on an owl although no one ever saw an owl in those woods. Great story to calm a nervous son. That was the beginning of a strange series of events.

One day, while playing man hunt in the woods behind my neighbors house, I jumped over a pile of logs and almost landed on a dead goat. There was no sign of blood or any reason why it was dead yet alone outside of the fence. Did an owl kill it? A few days later, we noticed that some of the chickens were missing. About 300 feet into the woods, we found a pile of feathers. We walked another few hundred feet and saw another pile. No chickens, just feathers. Almost as if someone or something plucked and skinned them right there. Over the next few months, more goats and chickens went missing. Of course, there was no explanation and I was even more terrified than before. Thats when we dubbed "it" the Chicken Killer. I even made a shirt in printmaking class in honor of this thing. It had a layer of trees, a black background, and an evil face in the darkness. We had to add some text to the design so I screened on "Chicken Killer... Dont Look Behind You." That came from the late nights spent at my neighbors house. When it was time to go home, I would sprint as fast as I could across the field and never looked back.

Years passed by and nothing was ever said or done about it. I picked up a copy of Weird NJ -  magazine dedicated to strange happenings in the armpit of the nation - and I ran across an article written by the girl who used to live up the street. She recalled an encounter she had with a strange creature one winter night. It was 1 AM and she was driving home from work. There are no street lights and there is a long stretch of woods before you reach the few neighboring houses. About a quarter of a mile from my parents house, she saw something on the side of the road. At first, she though it was a deer but when she got closer she realized it was nothing she has ever seen before. She described it as having red eyes, grey rat-like fur, a half horse/half human looking head, and a long skinny tail. It stood crunched over on its hind legs which were much longer than the front. She slowed down to make sure she was not hallucinating and confirmed her worst fears. It looked directly at her and leaped into the woods. That was her version of the story. My brothers and mom laughed it off, but I believed. By that time, I was already living in Philadelphia and didnt visit that often. The times I did visit, I never went outside after dark unless I was running to the car. Imagine that... a 20 yr old sprinting from the front door to the car. To this day, my younger brother still parks on the sidewalk when he comes home late.

About 3 years after that, we were joking about the article in Weird NJ with my good friend Dave. Dave lived on the same street but far enough away that he did not experience the Chicken Killer when we were kids. He asks what the article said and before I finished the first sentence he tells us that he saw something a couple years back. I wanted an unobstructed version so I asked him to tell us what he saw first. Basically, he described the same exact thing she did. The girl up the street and Dave had no relations and there is no way they could have made this up. We now have 2 witnesses both recalling a sighting of this beast. 

That was about 6 years ago. All of these things happened and there was never an explanation. I just pushed it to the back of my mind and did my best to not bring it up. I never saw anything except a dead goat and a few piles of chicken feathers.... until last summer. My parents rent a beach house for the week every summer and I was home for the family fun time. I had to work in Philly one morning so I decided to stay at my mom's to save some driving time in the morning. I hadnt seen my friends from home in a while so I invited them over. 5 of us were standing on the front lawn talking when we heard something running across the rocks on the driveway. We turned to see something run past the bushes towards the back of the house. Unfortunately, or fortunately, we only saw the back end of it. It was definitely running on its back 2 legs. It was grey in color with short wirey hair. It was hunched over and had a long, thin rat-like tail. The back had to be about 4 feet off of the ground.

"Holy shit" is all you could hear. We looked at each other and ran into the house, locked all the doors and windows and made sure we all saw the same thing. We spent the next few hours searching the internet for a similar creature. The closest thing we could find was the Chupacabra and an animal called a kangaroo cat. I pleaded for my friends to stay the night but they finally left around 3 AM. You can call it the Jersey Devil, the Chucacabra, or the Chicken Killer... but whatever it is, we all saw it and its living in South Jersey. After all of those years living in fear, I have convinced myself it doesnt kill humans and it actually seemed more scared of us than we were of it. I will just stick to the concrete jungle where I feel more comfortable walking down shady alleys than in my own backyard. When I go home now, I sleep well. But I will never stop running in the dark and I will NEVER look behind me. 

Im getting him a dog I like

Wang came by yesterday morning with a newspaper. He wants a dog again. I try to explain to him what each dog is and thats too hard so I go to petfinder.com to look at pictures. He sits there for a full hour saying "no good" to the 100 dogs I suggested. The reasons were: too old, dont like brown, dont like black, dont like white, only want yellow or tan, dont want female, too ugly, not like activity, and so on. Finally, I find  beagle named Heller and he is perfect. Wang is excited and I told him I would bus up to Lynwood on Tuesday to pick him up. 

9 PM and there is someone t my door. Its Wang's signature knock so I know its him. I open up and he says "Hey _ _ _ _, I think. I no want dog. Too much work. So sorry." I just laugh and say OK. Saved a trip up north. On my way to work this morning, I notice a note on my door. See below.

The poor guy is confused and maybe he cant afford it. So, I have decided to go pick out a dog I really like and buy it for him. The reason I need to like it is because there is about a 90% chance that after 2 weeks it will be mine. I can here it now "_ _ _ _, you take dog. Too much work. You like" as he is handing the puppy to me. Oh wangster, what would I do without you?

Learn How to F'n Drive!

9 essential tips for you shitty ass Seattle drivers (and walkers).

1. Cars have the right of way - I dont know how many times I have seen a car cruising along at a good rate of speed and they have to slam on their breaks because some douchebag thinks just because he is at a crosswalk (where there is no light) that the car has to stop for them. For all you tree hugging, non carbon producing idiots that walk around downtown with your aluminum water bottles and north face fleeces... Dont you realize when you make the car stop, it actually uses more fuel and energy to start going again? I mean, if you care so much about the f'n earth, wait 2 seconds and let the damn car go. Not like you have anything important to get to anyway.

2. Carpool lane is for speed - I love the idea of a carpool lane. Its great. What I hate is when some jackass gets in that lane and decides to do 45 mph on the highway. If you are a law abiding citizen, scared to go over 50, or asian, you should stay to the right. Just because you have some other green goer sitting beside you, it doesnt give you the right to go for a Sunday drive in the left lane. Move over and let people with some balls go by.

3. Pull up when making a left - Ever been stuck at a light through 3 rotations only to move up a car or 2? Its probably because someone is making a left and refuses to pull into the intersection until all is clear. When you do that, it does not allow for any of us behind you to get by. Its simple, pull up 15 feet and leave room for the cars behind you to go straight. If you are scared, you should not be driving. This is "maybe" the most important tip so it deserves a diagram. Look to the right.

4. Use your turn signal when making a left - That way if you dont pull up, I can let down on the horn and flip you off until you do. 

5. "Learn how to fucking drive" - If you hear this, the culprit is probably from the east coast and is definitely ready to get out of the car and punch you in the face. Dont stop!

6. Downtown - If you have some skills, it is possible to go from Denny to Jackson on 5th Ave without stopping. You can do this by staying in the middle lane and keeping a constant speed. Granted you need to look out for ever other driver (cause they all suck) but it is possible. 

7. Stay away from Chinatown - In asian countries, supposedly the drivers are amazing. They are aggressive, fast, and I doubt many of us could keep up. I dont know what happens when they get here, but that all changes. You will experience # 1, 3, 4 and 5 here. 

8. Dont even try to parallel park - Lets face it. You cant. Might as well pay a valet or park in a garage.

9. There are exceptions - Keep it up!

I dont own a car. Im not angry. When I did, I was. I will trade private classes for a ride to safeway to anyone that needs training in the above categories. I can even show you the proper way to tell the other less fortunate people... "learn how to fucking drive"

No Wonder the Sonics are Gone

I can sum it up in 4 words: Seattle Sucks for Sports. I moved to the Emerald city the year before the Sonics left, or were kicked out. I was excited to be able to run down to Key Arena and see some games. Apparently the rest of the city wasn't. I dont know all of the details behind the move, but I did witness the most pathetic series of fan protests. Most of the nights you would see 20-40 people standing outside city hall or down in Olympia. They had signs that said "Save our sonics" and other PC/Seattleish phrases.

20 people? There are more than that at any given Starbucks on a Tuesday afternoon. More people protested for the tent city than keeping the Sonics? More people ride the #7 at 3 PM. The average Seattleite would read a book at a cafe and dream of talking to the woman sitting next to him rather than watch a sporting event. I mean - read your damn book at home.

The Sonics were one of the 2 things anyone outside of the Pacific Northwest knows or cares about Seattle. Lets say a city like Philly tried to sell the Sixers. They currently suck but plain and simple - it wouldnt happen. There would be riots in the streets and fans threatening to burn down the front office. I bet the crackheads would even be upset. I know 4 year olds that would cry for days.

And you guys sat back, drank your lattes, and watched it all unfold? You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Karma is Definitely a Bitch

Last Thursday I decided to start a blog. You can scroll down to see the first entry. Its about skinny jeans and the guys who enjoy having their junk squeezed to the point of breaking. Well, the next day I was rushing around on my lunch break, trying to get ready to play basketball. For some odd reason, I took my pants and boxers off before my hoodie. In a frantic state (didnt want to miss the first game) I somehow managed to pull the zipper on my sweatshirt so hard that it went past my waste. I pulled a "something about mary." It wasnt as bad as it was in the movie, but I definitely broke skin and had to wrap gauze and electrical tape around my you know what. 

I still went to play. About half way through, I noticed the gauze contraption lying in the middle of the court. Someone yelled "its a manpon" and I acted like I had no idea where it came from. Next time I decide to talk about other men's penises, I will be a lot more careful.  

The Wangster

I live downtown in  a weird area. Its kinda chinatown, kinda pioneer square, a little SODO, and a lot of crackheads. None the less, its a nice building, I have a great view, and my floor is full of friendly neighbors, young professionals, and Wang. 

Wang is a short, older Chinese guy who has been living in Seattle for 40 years. He has never been anywhere in the US outside of Washington, he mumbles when he speaks, and chain smokes with the windows closed. He is a sweet man. He says hi to everyone even though that is even hard to translate. He posts random signs in the elevator from time to time. One read "I need dog. Feel lonely. Please help. Room 720" A few months and a couple trips to the pound with the wangster, I see one that reads "Dog Waste Bags. Free" and its laying on top of a huge bundle of plastic safeway bags. Wang decided he did not want a dog because it was too much work. So he wanted to give the shit bags away he had been saving for the past few months. Wang has become my friend.

It started out with me offering to help him with his grocery out front one day. I didnt understand a word he said at this point. Actually, Im not even sure his name is Wang, but thats what I call him now.  A few days later he comes knocking on my door. I always know its him because when I look through the peep hole, I dont see anyone. The dude is like 4'9". Since then, we have gone to dinner a couple times, I took a cab ride to the pound twice to help him find a friend, I took him to the Pig Roast festival in the park, Ive watched TV at his house, and next week he is going to show me how to make BBQ Pork.

This morning was strange. Last night Wang knocked and asked me if I could help his nephew install a HDTV antennae. Its funny, he thinks I can fix anything. I really have no clue but figured I could youtube it and agreed to go the next morning. He tells me his nephew lives in the Frye hotel on 3rd and yesler. Its right across from bum park and the only thing I really remember about that building is this one character that is always on the steps. He looks to be about 50. At first glance I thought he was a woman, he shakes like he needs a fix, and he definitely has that "I'll suck your dick for 5 dollars" look. I see this guy a lot and not sure if I should be disgusted, afraid, or turned on. Joking about that last part. The guy is creepy! Thats all I knew about the Frye at that point.

10 Am comes and Wang knocks. he is never late. I throw on some sweats and take a walk with him. Once inside, I realize the Frye is a great building. Its 150 years old, has an open lobby, high ceilings and decor from the 70s. It has a musty smell and the lady at the desk takes my ID so I can go up and try to fix this antennae. We go to the 6th floor and walk down the hallway. There is junk everywhere, doors open with TVs blaring, and an old Japanses lady sitting by the elevator. Wang waves and says hi, she stares blankly.

We get to the spot. I think it was 609. Wang knocks and opens the door. Its a small, dirty space with an overflowing ashtray, a few empty beer cans, and the TV. Someone comes from the kitchen area and I almost fell to the floor. Its the guy from the front steps who I have mad eye contacts way too many with over the past year. I hesitated and cringed when he stuck his hand out. I had to shake it. I go straight to the TV and start hooking the wires up. He is behind me sitting on the loveseat. 

He's is wearing tight jeans and a dirty white t. The whole time I am there he has his hand up his shirt and he was rubbing between his stomach and nipples. I never looked directly but kept the corner of my eye on him. Miraculously, I figured out how to get a few local channels working. I was nervous, felt gross, and could not stop thinking about the countless number of dudes who have been in and out of there. I was surprised to hear he has been living there for 27 years. By that time, the floor was probably covered in a layer of sticky stuff. His name is Tommy. Tommy does not say a word. He just twitches, rubs himself and stares at me while Im frantically flipping through channels. Right before i leave he says "do you live here?" I say "no, nice meeting you," and I get the hell out.

Im so disgusted I dont want to touch anything. Thank god Wang was with me and he could use his keycard to get us back in the building. I get home, wash my hands with alcohol for what felt like 20 mins, and laugh. I cant believe I ended up in his place on a Sunday morning. I imagine I will be walking by there next time and he will remember my name. Thats how it goes for me. I end up meeting random people doing random things. Next Sunday, Im gonna watch football with the Wangster and learn how to make that BBQ pork.