a picture adventure...

Kevin and I were bored on a Monday night, well technically tuesday morning. We looked at my trusty care bear clock...

and it read 1:12am. We looked at each other and said "gee golly lets go to the 24 hour walmart"..
kevin put on his pants and bounded down the stairs...

we got in the car and ez pass said my account was low =(..
but it didn't matter, because in a couple of minutes we arrived at an alabama man's version of heaven..

there was a lot of strange people there, even a pumpkin pie faced man!!

we got sad because baron wasn't there to see pumpkin pie man, but then we realized he is like god..he is always around....

then out of nowhere we hit a box!

but it just cause us a small delay, we then found all the tomato sause we could ever want...

kevin then stumbled upon a family size box of cheez itz. shortly after he had to change his underwear...

then found more cheese, so much we didn't know what to do!

then i realized if i didn't mind eating flesh i would live off of this...

after all that shopping we worked up quite the thirst, we decided we needed an energy drink for the road...

after realzing Steven Seagall can't make energy drinks and it tasted like V8 washed through an old shoe we unpacked our belongings and called it a night...

when i come home..

i get to see this everyday, jealous? you should be.

Nickelback...

I was stopped at a light today and the car next to me had his window open, and from his car the sound of Nickelback was eminating. Now at first I thought it must be the radio, but he fixed my doubts when the track ended and as the light turned green the next Nickelback song came on. This man was pumping this band like no other, like wam.bam.ma'am. pumping. The fact that people enjoy Nickelback scares me, but the real thing that gets me is someone would be so in love with this band and so proud to listen to them they would pump it from their banging Honda Accord stero. Chad Kroger = not good.

If you are going to listen to something this bad you need to be in your house (ie your room, ie your closet) with all the doors locked, not bumping to it in a Shop Rite parking lot.

Atlantic City...

A couple of weeks ago, TS and I went to Ocean City. On the way down he texted a lady friend and said he was coming down and she should meet up at yesterdays. An hour later a weird phone number calls him and was like, this is her boyfriend you stay away from her you piece of shit, I'll fuck you up, etc. This kid had one of those wannabe tough guy italian voices when he's clearly a waste of life. When we go to Yesterdays we had some drinks and started calling, the nice boy back, Artie Elloway. He kept saying who is this blah blah, and as the mature people we are we told him it was Artie and who are you. He said he wanted to meet up and take care of matters, we told him go to the 14th street WaWa. We then decided to go to Atlantic City. Stew, TS, Rainman, and I piled into a cab and went to the Tropicana, where we met up with D-Rock. After losing alot of money and getting alot of free drinks we get rowdy and wanted to get kicked out. We found a wheelchair took it, and Rainman sit in it and become Rainman, we are horrible people I know but at the time it was classic. We would be rolling him around and he'd break things and no one would care. We then rolled him behind a guy playing slots and just left him, rainman would make all this noise and the guy just wouldn't care. Put him at a blackjack table where he disrupted the game and such. As we were trying to figure out what to do, this crackhead looking type guy came up to us and asked if we were hungry. We said yes. He then said he had a voucher for $150.00 and he wanted food but didn't want to eat alone and we should come with him. We followed him and he took us to the most expensive restraunt in the casino, the type of place where grilled cheese costs 14.95. When we sat down we all ordered Miller High Lifes, since it's the champagne of beers. The man who took us there then looked at his watch and said he had a bus to catch, but he was low on cash would we give him 10 dollars for his 150 dollar voucher, ah! it is a total scam, but being as the drunk fools we were we said sure. We ask the waiter if the paper was legit and he said he thought it was, so we said fuck it. Filled up on expensive grilled cheese and beer champagne. Rainman got angry and started throwing toast and such around. The waiter who looked like George Washington started yelling so he stopped. Then he launched another toast etc. We left there and broke a bathroom. We could not get kicked out of this casino. Go to the top floor, throw chair down 3 flights of stairs. It is now like 430am, our ride home Damian becomes MIA so we need ataxi, we decide to bring the wheel chair with us. Taxi driver pulls up:

me: "can you pop the trunk so i can put my chair in there"

taxi: "i don't know if it will fit, but you can try"

**i struggle with it for a bit, he comes out tries to help and sees it says property of tropicana on it**

taxi: "is this your or did you just use it enough and you feel entitled to it"

me: "i pretty much feel its mine"

we struggle some more give up throw it in street.

day over....

moral of the story: tropicana is impossible to get kicked out of...

Party

We threw a little shindig last Friday night. It was quite the night of merriness and stories. There was jugs of premade Red Bull and Vodka's and more beer then our fridge could hold, mind you this was BYOB. But I like to give my friends drinks either at my apartment or open tabs at the bar. Come 1030 our apartment was packed to the point you couldn't move and then there was 20some kids outside smoking. At one point I ventured outside and this conversation took place..
man next door: "Hey bro, there's kids smoking up here"
me: "Thanks I'll tell them to put it out or watch for security"
man next door: "no bro, i swear i smell smoke in my apartment and I don't like that smell"
me: "oh, sorry I'll get them downstairs..if you want to come over for a drink you are more than welcome to"
man next door: "no, i just don't want smoke"
then I apologized again and witnessed him tape up a sign to his door in nice big red letters, "Smoke downstairs not by me"
Now I understand he didn't want this around him which is understandable by me. But the fact is I get to smell the nice weed smell all the time and here him blast salsa music and horrendous mega mixes and never say anything. Arg.
After coming back inside I found out people were in Baron's room. Baron had distinctly said I don't want anyone in my room since I won't be here. There were two people who were in there and then more people came in, I said to them that they needed to leave the room. They then informed me that if Baron was here he wouldn't care. I said it doesn't matter, get out. they still stuck by the we'll take responsibility, he won't mind, etc deal. Sorry this is my apartment and what I say goes, you are attending a party and sitting in a room watching tv and having other people in there. not cool. finally they left after explaining to people how I am a huge prick and all that fun stuff. In my defense, yes I am a total asshole to alot of people. But 1. I've known Baron way longer. 2. You know him because of me. 3. It doesn't matter who you are. 4. It's my apartment get out and never come back.....
Bulgarian foreign exchange students somehow wound up here, they raided the fridge and stole Bob's packet of Bologna, now I'm a vegetarian so I could care less, but still. They ate the whole stack saying how they loved Salami. They then tried to take my rooster cookie jar, so classily nicknamed "nick's cock". They kept getting caught and were creepers and I had to kick out some more kids. Everyone was happy and it was a successful time and many pretty people came.
Things learned at the party:
1. Bulgarian kids love their pseudo-salami
2. Our apartment is known as the skateboard apartment
3. I'm a huge prick because I honor my roommates requests
4. Having Dillinger Escape Plan follow Party like a Rock star on a party mix just doesn't work.
5. I have some really awesome friends.

Dear man upstairs from me,

bow flexing in your apartment with all the blinds completely up isn't really that cool. You also have no neck and walk very loud. If this hurts your feelings, I apologize and you are invited to come over for a muscle milk(shake).
Sincerely,
The Kid in the Tight Pants that you swear is a 'fag'.