Saturday, May 26, 2007

Mr. Carl

After my Mom caught me growing pot in her greenhouse, my father told me it was time for me to move out or join the army. After going from couch to couch for two months, I ended up wearing out my welcome everywhere and took up residence in my Chevy Nova in the parking lot of a church. After a couple days Mr. Carl comes knocking on my window and offers me a place to stay, to help me get back on my feet. Honestly, this is one of the few people I really regret screwing over. This guy just kept forgiving and forgiving. Whether it was me selling half of his LP collection, or inviting my friends over and hotboxing his bathroom, or making tons of prank calls to foreign countries, the man did exactly what Jesus would do. That is until he came home to find my hand in his daughter's trousers. At that point he freaked and chased me around the house with a tire iron smashing three lamps, a statue of the Virgin Mary and putting a couple good sized holes in the wall. As I grabbed for my car keys, he smashed that iron into the back of my hand. I still can't cross any of my fingers due to nerve damage. At first I thought that was pretty fucked up, but now that I think about it, Jesus probably would have done the same.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007


Logan was such a dirtbag. We lived together in this house his dad was renovating. We were supposed to be helping fix it up in trade for rent, but never did. One night we had a party for Bastille Day and everyone got real tore up. At the end of the night I was walking around with a video camera filming people passed while I did narration. I walked into the living room and saw Logan with his hand inside this passed out girl's shirt. After about two minutes he finally noticed I was there, looked up, and freaked out. While he was begging me to give him the tape, the girl woke up and wanted to know how her shirt and bra got undone. I started to play back the tape and Logan started screaming. He ran out of the room and came back seconds later with a nail gun. Before he could pull the trigger, he got caught up in the pneumatic hose and tripped, breaking his nose on the burl coffee table. The girl was really appreciative until it dawned on her that I just sat there filming the whole thing. She hates me too, but since she took the camera I don't have a picture of her.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007


Me and Bobby.<span class=
I stole $500 bucks from my grandfather when I was 14. He could never prove it, and I never admitted it, but he knew. This picture was taken at his 70th wedding anniversary. It was about five minutes later when my sister's kid popped a balloon behind him that he pissed himself. I happened to be standing right in front of him when he did and immediately started laughing and screaming that Grandpa Irv wet his pants. He slapped me across the face and told me, "You are for shit! You stole my Liberty Dollars and everyone knows what a shit you are, you shit!" In an attempt to haunt me from beyond the grave, he stipulated in his will that I should inherit his colon. I was actually kind of jazzed about the idea, but apparently there are laws against that kind of thing.