Rock Lobster

So I met the lead singer of the B-52s at some party in Macon tonight. Fuckin random indeed. Pictures will ensue b/c noone will believe me.
In other news, Turkey Day was fantastic. The family's doin great and it was outstanding spending some qualitly time with them.

Not lookin forward to working tomorrow.
Holla bitches.
Chris

Epiphany

The owner of my broken heart is returning to claim damaged goods (or atleast meet up for a cup of coffee) over Xmas break and I can barely contain myself. I haven't been this excited about christmas since that fat bastard St. Nick stopped coming by the crib. I didn't think I was that bad, but apparently fat white people seem to think so. Maybe if he learned to put down the fork he wouldn't have to take out his aggression on me. I don't ask for much. I fuckin hate white people.
In other news, Vin and I spent all day yesterday re-organizing the Pawn Shop. It was hard work but good times nonetheless. I found this sweetass custom gunholster (Wild West-style ala Doc Holliday NOT Will Smith). I rocked that shit w/ empty gunshells all day long. As I pushed a shopping cart full of 25 rifles and ammo sporting a fully-equipped bullet belt with a revolver in the holster that had a barrel that was longer than a fully erect elephant penis (another story entirely), I found myself humming the chorus of "I'm proud to be an American." For once, I think I actually connected with our conservative counterparts. Right there in the back rooms of the one and only Griffin Pawn Shop. I wanted to get into an Expedition, drive down to Florida to shoot a manatee and barbeque the hell out of it. I felt like harassing some Democrats, finding some homeless people and telling them to get a job; banning stem cell research and gay marriage. I blessed God for George Bush and for liberating the Iraqi people. I couldn't wait to get home to watch the O'Reilly Factor.
Then I put down the gun and realized I had been indavertently huffing the contents of a bug spray can that had been perforated at some point during our escapade.
What can we learn from this?
One can only appreciate our adminstration's policies if you get high.
Just ask Rush Limbaugh...he knows what's up.

Gloriously blurry Saturday morning

I woke up at 8 am on a Saturday after drinking pretty heavily. I'm getting old. What happened to the days when sleeping in until 1 was a perfectly acceptable practice?

Insult to Injury

After having my motor vehicle unlawfully relocated to a yet-to-be (never-to-be?) determined location my insurance company stepped up to the plate and gave me a rental--a motherfuckin PT Cruiser. Not only am I officially car-less but now I have to ride around in a modernday shitbucket.
Oh...and the title of my car arrived via The US Postal Service yesterday. Do you know what that means kids? I finally paid off my car just before having it ganked.
Life's a bitch and then you die.
I gotta squat an evil grumpy.

Take that cruel world.

This weekend proved to be another ridiculous endeavour on the Front Porch. The party lights stayed on all weekend. Some alcohol receptacles were thrown into the nearest thoroughfare (it's not a crime if you use big words, just ask your state and federal politicians), seedy lawn furniture was slaughtered w/ the aide of a sword, I nearly broke my ankle trying to give my brother a piggy back ride home from the bar, I tooted all over the Macon mall, found a badass pawn shop that had everything from first press Beatles albums to Nazi regalia (talk about servicing all of your holiday shopping needs), drinkin and front porch-pickin w/ the "One Four Fives in A" (we wrote our first song, aptly titled "Anal Leakage"), a sweetass Journey sing-a-long was captured and is now circulating the nether-regions of myspace, a foot through the front porch, the neighbors door was broken down, I woke up with an offensive and deragatory phrase scrawled on my chest w/ permanent marker (it's still there); just a small token of appreciation to the neighborhood that allowed my only means of transportation to be taken from me.

God my neighbors hate me.

Unexpected thank you from the community

Today started just like any other tuesday for the past year and a half. I slapped the shit out of my alarm clock, made some coffee, got a shower, ate my breakfast, put on some lame schoolteacher clothes and walked out the door. It was a beautiful Fall morning. That quintessential autumn wakeup call that delivers a crisp smell of cold and dying leaves. I remember being suprised by the fact that I was actually looking forward to working with my students on their essays today. As I walked off my front porch I realized that I was going to have a problem. I noticed that there was a white truck parked where my white honda had been the night before. At first I thought there was a bit of black magic involved, but then the coffee kicked in. A few unsavory individuals from the community had come forth to personally thank me for educating their unwanted children for the past year and a half by stealing my only mode of transportation. My goal today is to wander around the streets of Macon to try and find these thoughtful characters and personally thank them for such a generous gift.

Bitches and motherfuckin graham crackers.

Ob la di Ob la da

The Halloween show last weekend proved to be as spectacular as I had hoped. Matthew even joined the party by providing his skin slapping prowess for a lively Misfits cover that brought down the house. Many thanks to all who came and threw down with us. It was easily the best show that I've ever been a part of: good times, good people; a fitting conclusion to Matthew's life in the dirty South. I think he's in Atlantic City right now, hopefully recovering from a glorious night in South Jersey before he has to report to his next post of duty. I hate to see the kid leave me again but this is the best move for him. He'll be hundreds of miles away from Sister Mary Rotten Crotch(copyrighted the day I met Ms. Guacasnatch(trademarked July 4th, 2006)). Ohh...and he'll have a number that she'll never know.
moving right along...
I've started hangin out with some more folks here in Macon; it's amazing how good people can make a place a bit more enjoyable. Most are older and more sophisticated than me (Professors, legitimate school teachers, business owners), but they're fun and they like to drink.
I bought a lap steel guitar a few weeks ago. It's totally badass. I'm thinkin about starting a country band. I think I'll alternate between playing the lap steel and the jugs(any volunteers ladies?).
Anxiously waiting to hear about a job prospect...hopefully a glorious update soon.