I would have never thought this was possible. In recent news about the man who wrote the book about being a junkie drug addict and Opra having to publicly humiliate him on pubic TV for not being exactly accurate in his life and book. So here is what happened yesterday:
We were out to the Hamptons to spend the weekend wit Sasha’s mothers. She has two schnauzer dogs. One of which has had a lot of problems with opiates. For some reason he liked to consume mass quantities of drugs, any kind. So, over the past few years he now has a chemical dependency on them. When we are here we have to make sure that our drugs are out of reach. In the past Sasha’s mother has come home and found her dog with an overdose, convulsing on the floor foaming at the mouth. Valium, pain killers, advil, ect. He loves.
So, yesterday we went out to Gurnies day spa. I had everything closed up, and then I forgot something so I had to run in the house and get it out of my bag. We went to the spa and had a great time. The guys jumped in the ocean right before we left. When we got back. Everyone started screaming when we entered the house. There was two puddles of vomit on the floor and the junkie dog was shaking, running around the house as though on speed, and whining. When we looked on the floor there was my out of town pill container with the top ripped off (child proof lid) and the pills scattered all over the floor. There were Advil liquid jells and ultraset ( a non narcotic pain killer) in there. A lot were missing. Then next to that there was a ripped open zip lock baggie of black loose tea. It was originally filled half full (a gallon size bag). ½ was missing. He was so hipper and tripping out that we had to call the vet, give him an enormous amount of water, charcoal pills and Pepto Bismo. He is still screwed up and we think he cant really see anymore. He got lost in the woods when they took him out for a bathroom break last night. He has finally come down enough to take a nap.
I think that we need to contact Opra and see if we can get a real Junkie on her show-

So, i am selling my Wedding dress. I wrote a hilarious review on the thing. its getting some bits already, should be a fun aution. check it out-


do a search on e-bay for seller feaganite and it will be listed as 1920's beaded flapper dress

Can McDonalds stoop any lower? I saw the new commercial for their 6 Pcs chicken McNuggets. They are putting it on the dollar menu until the end of the month. The commercial is so Dumb. There is a looser of a guy waiting in line while the worker (black of course) is sliding the 6 Pcs description label to the dollar menu, while the dumb white guy is cheering him on.
Not to mention all of the Burger King commercials with that ridiculous King. He is very scary. I really don’t like to watch especially the commercial (doing their own take on King Kong) where the King is looking into the sky scrapper window-
DOWN WITH THE KING AND ALL THEIR SILLY BULLSHIT!

Gee Wiz Cheese Wiz
Awesome day in the city yesterday. Sasha promised to take me out for my favorite Japanese dish, Shabu Shabu. So we went in to go to Typhoon. One small problem, they were closed. This restaurant is one of the best in the East Village, one of a hand full that is run and owned by Japanese. Their menu when we first spotted the little treasure, was a 10 page menu with nothing but appetizers that ranged in the $3.00 to $4.00, which is a rarity in NYC. They had a great Sushi bar and 20 different kinds of Sake. Two years later they shaved down the menu a bit, but the variety and atmosphere were intact. So, disappointed as we were we looked into a Korean spot next door that had just opened. The waitress was the owner. I have to say we were very impressed. They had the traditional hot pot. It is a clay pot served piping hot and the rice, raw egg, mushrooms, onion, chicken, and seasoning is served on the top raw. Then you stir the mixture together and the heat from the pot cooks it. We had it in Kyoto. Great dish!
For me I had Kim chi Ramen. Great, Great, Great!! I have not had it sense I left Japan (except for making it at home with real raw ramen noodles). The Kim Chi was home made and very yummy. The great thing about Korean restaurants is the side dishes they serve with dinner. Some have served 10 little dishes, while others serve 4. We left the restaurant and walked through Thompkins Square Park. Great Time!

Well, it seems that our new neighbors are not so perfect. Out last ones were dealing drugs out of their house as I mentioned a while back. Our block formed a neighborhood watch and through calling police, writing down license plate numbers, and keeping an eye on them, the police did a raid and busted what was the 2nd largest drug bust in town. So, now we have seen the same signs, a lot of traffic going in and out of the apartment. We have ordered cameras and will be setting them up. The police are going to help us with that off the record.
There is also a Poop problem going on with a new neighbor and their disrespectfulness to clean it up. They walk their dog in our parking lot and refuse to clean it up. My neighbor had a screaming match with them the other day. It was pretty funny. I told her what she needed to do. Pick up the poop and put it on their front step, so when they go out they will step in it and figure it out. This should be funny.
Also, there is a payphone on the block that the drug dealers use. I will be going to it tonight with some super glue to get rid of it once and for all. I will keep you posted on Crack central-

I think we have found the place for our next vacation. It looks like an adult playland.
This place is in Jamaica. Wow! It looks like a lot of fun to be had.
http://www.atlantis.com/flash.aspx

I think I have a new game plan. Because of the recent crap that I had to endore from friends and family I will be changing. Instead of being nice to everyone and putting up with the bullshit, I will be mean. I will only say what needs to be said even if it hurts someone else. Sure, life is short so you might as well say what comes to mind. Lying to someone else to save face just doesn’t cut it anymore. So, for those who have it coming to them- you asked for it. Because in the end if your going to chew on something that is bothering you, it will eventually eat you up inside. It will ruin your life and you will die a bitter resentful death. So, if you ask me “how does my hair look?” if it looks like shit and it makes you look fat, that’s what I am going to say, because you look like shit and are fat anyway and you need to hear it so you can get plastic surgery and go on a F%@$*& diet.

No, I am not turning into a movie critic. We got to see a new movie by Stephen Chow (one of the funniest Chinese directors ever) called Kungfu Mahjong magic. This is the same director who did Kung Fu Hustle 1. There is going to be Kung Fu Hustle 2 that will be out soon. So, look for it. Kung fu mahjong was hilarious! Another great movie! And the woman with the dangling cigarette is in this one as well. Check it out. Here is a website for Chinese cinema that lists his other works:
http://www.cinemastrikesback.com/?cat=67
On a Christmas note: we found a new release at blockbuster called Santa’s Slay. It is a B movie Horror that is full of laughs. The opening scene is great. If you want to see the Nanny star Fran Gresher get what is coming to her all these years as an annoying actress, check it out. It turned out to be a great movie – just in time for the holidays.

BAD HAND
BY :ME


A wheezy rattle ripped through his nostrils. The blowout woke him to reality. The sticky film around his eyelids made it hard to open. The murkiness in his eyes made it hard to focus as the swimming room went back to calm waters.
He could still feel the toxic chemicals treading in his veins. He struggled to remember the events that led him to collapse in his moth-eaten bed. He forced himself up, the room shook out of focus. His head thumped in muffled drums to the beat of his heart. He coughed to dismiss his lungs from hissing and wheezing.
After fumbling for a cigarette from the bedside table, he took the smoke into his lungs and exhaled the unwholesome poison in a long careless sigh. He felt a chill on his sock less foot. While searching for the missing sock his mind became lost in thought.
His life was a giant pause, anchored from one day to the next. Stagnant. He abandoned himself from the human race. Her laughter was absent from the house. The sunshine that once painted the walls in gilded golden hues now replaced with greasy gray grime. Furniture gone, abandoned shelves, the house lay in dilapidation. He faded with it. The cigarette fell to the dusty floor and was snuffed out by his calloused foot.
His legs trembled on the way into the kitchen. At the mercy of thirst he opened the last PBR and flooded his empty stomach. He lifted his right arm to whiff the pungent bouquet emanating from his armpit. A hot shower came to mind. How long has it been sense he washed his polluted skin and changed his discolored clothes? But what was more apparent, he was out of beer.
The phone was ringing when he returned from the store. Al was on the other line and asked him to come over for another card game with the guys. Like he had anything important going on. He put the phone back on the receiver and sucked down another beer. With $58.00, a bottle of vodka and a case of beer, he made his way out the door.
It was a typical Tuesday night at Al’s. raunchy porn on the outdated Tv, stail pretzels in plastic bowels. And 5 overweight deadbeats sitting around the table drinking beer and talking about woman they never had. The air was thick with stale cigar smoke and countless shots of vodka. He was up $12.00 when his vision began to sway violently. He needed to call it a night. One more hand. The steaks were high while the bank overflowed with crumbled one dollar bills and fives.
With two men out he had a good hand. Much better than any tonight. He raised $20. one man folded. It was now between him and Al. he raised Al again, but Al was out of money. “Tell ya what”, Al said. I have some collateral worth well over $20.00, what do you think?”
He agreed and dropped his hand. Al bluffed. $64.00 and Al’s collateral, time to hit the road. They stumbled outside and Al submerged from the back yard with the collateral, an old goat on a leash. They all burst into laughter. He was way top drunk to argue so he put it in the back of the truck and sped off down the road.
The next morning he was aroused by wet soppy kisses all over his face. He flew out of bed when his eyes opened. Then it all came back to him why a goat was in his bedroom. He took it outside to find a place for it. There on the side of the drive way was an old neglected dog house. The dog died years ago. It would work out fine. He found an old towing chain and tied the goat to it and the dog house. He brought out an opened can of chili and fed it to the goat. He then went to work.
A week had gone by and he found himself at another poker game. He lost big that night, luck was not on his side. He drowned himself in vodka and beer before he left for the night.
When he got to his home he turned the truck around and started to back up his drive way. His drunken expert driving skills made him zig zag on and off the road. Then the truck jolted and bumped over something large. He kept his foot on the gas in spite of the obstruction he just drove over. He needed to get up to the house and use the bathroom.
The next morning, he lifted his head out of a dried puddle of vomit under the toilet. He stumbled out of the bathroom and looked out the window while he washed his mouth out with beer. There on the drive way was something large laying still.
When he got up to it, it all came back to him. He hit and ran over the old goat when he came home.
He was too tired to deal with it so he picked it up and threw it in the old pool next to the house. Floating next to it was a green rancid dead rabbit blanketed in autumn leaves.

and one more......by me

Red Neck Lovin
Jim bob flipped the top off his third Genesee Cream Ale and drained half of the can in one swallow. He slid his hairy bare arm across his soppy wet lips. He took a deep sigh and set the can down on the rickety Formica table. He thought of her. He sat down and took out a dented up box of American Spirits from his shoulder tuck. The rush of the smoke hit the back of his throat and he keeled over in a violent coughing fit. After hacking up a lung he sat back. She came again in quick flashes of his mind.She sat on an old barstool, immodestly dressed up in a red halter top and black leather mini skirt. She looked good for forty-seven, hard up, dried up old barfly. Slightly overweight, but hell, that hussy had to pack that baggage somewhere, he thought. He watched her drink like a fish while she hover over the bar top swaying like a see-saw. He walked up behind her to see if she was worth the money. He gave in after he stared at her depreciatingly cheap ass. He slicked back his greasy mass and pulled up a chair to her left. She guzzled another shot. She turned, gave him a sloshy smile, then brought a cigarette to her pasty lips. She raised her brows at him looking for a light. Six shots later they found their polluted selves in the dank restroom. In a stall he poured his sloppy wet misguided kisses on her lipstick stained cheek. Ankle deep in a toilet leak, she yanked up her mini skirt and whipped down her halter to reveal a lot more of herself.He grabbed another beer from the grease stained refrigerator and walked out of the squeaky door of the trailer. He swigged the beer while his eyes scanned the backyard. In one year his whole life had drastically changed. His money grubbing wife walked out on him with her five kids soon after he lost his job at the factory. The bitch sued for child support and he could not pay it. The bank came and took half of the double wide as payment. Then the hound dog Buck, was struck by a Semi along the high way one day. All he had left were a cemetery of useless rusted out cars and trucks. It was too depressing so he went back to his scurvy hole of a trailer. After a few more beers he pulled out an old yellowy piece of paper and wrote some words for the lady he meet at the bar. He figured he could give it to her and she would move in.Four hours later he opened his bloodshot eyes while his face lade in a puddle of drool. He wiped his face with his stained white T-shirt and opened another beer. In his blurred vision he read the paper back to himself.Can’t get you off my mindNaked in repose Silvery silhouette girls Adorn my mud flaps. He tucked some chew behind his lower lip. He thought about her again and decided to bring the poem to her at the bar. Besides, he was out of beer. He slipped on his muddy boots and stumbled out of the dust-hole to the pickup truck. He flung open the door, hit him-self in the forehead and fell backwards into a mud puddle mixed with motor oil. When he looked down he could not make out anything he had written. He needed to try and forget her. It was never going to work out!

Back by popular demand-

The Dirty End Of The Stick, by Melanie (ME)
“DEDICATED TO LAURIA LONGSTREET”
The rusty old pick-up truck choked while Gert idled for a while. With folded arms, work laid behind her back. She sat unoccupied, almost lethargic.Under a cloud she dawdled through the watery earth to the concession stand. Crouched over the stool sat her boss, defeated eyes and untidy hair. Gert cowered next to her like a stick in the throat, awaiting the crowd to come.Two hours later the drab ditch of the dirt paved track roared with the scent of gas and Redman. There was much excitement at the Afton raceway that night. The once wet sediment now dried danced over the cheering crowd and filtered out over the neon lights above. The cars growled and grunted in perfect synchronicity around the track while the tires spun drunk over the dirt. The crowd, crammed into the grandstand, swaggered and sung their praises to the entertainment.Four beers and six hotdogs in the whole, Gert, the chubby faced cherub, descended from the grandstand with an empty cart. She made her way back to the concession stand for a pickup. Mud caked shoes made it hard to walk and slowed her pace even more. She was $42.00 short for the night and she had only started working two hours ago. She needed to really push if she was going to go home with some cash.Her feet tripped and slipped while she pushed the cart over to the far end of the jeering crowded grandstand. Five or six customers later, a reeky old man came up for a Budweiser and a burger. In his inebriated best, he asked her how much. She came back with “How’s $75 sound? It took him a minute to understand what was going on. They descended into the bowels of the grandstand.In his moth eaten flannel, he handed her a wad of cash. They stood limp in an awkward embrace. Knee deep in garbage, there was much confusion with their tongs. Crude fondling of an ungraceful caress. Musty tainted briefs below his knees, the vulgar smacking of their love making was drowned out by the polluted crowd. They were blind to the world as he dismantled her.Inebrious kisses, he had a drop too much, for his orgasm never came. He finally gave up and fumbled with his zipper. She hobbled from the dark to have another beer and wash the rancid taste from her mouth and mind. Her clothes were not so lucky. They were oiled up with his abomination.She had her money, some. Though the night was young, and rent was due. She gulped down another beer and crammed in two more hotdogs.Out of the frying pan and into the fire, work dragged on.