“Do you think he’s ok” Brance murmurs to Ang amongst the screams
“Oh yeah, trust me hitting is a good thing”
“Well yeah, but is an elbow to the stomach and slamming his head into the table?”
“Of course, it’s human nature to...”
“But the beer bottle to the…”
“Brance, he’s fine”
“he’s down!”
“He’ll get back up”
“Not with those kinda kicks he’s not” the bartender jests as he tops up Brance’s drink.
“who’s the pretty lady”
“Just a friend of ours” Angela replies whilst shaking the glass in the air for a top up as well”
The sound of shattering glass sets off a chorus of cheers and laughter in the left side of the bar. Brance’s eyes nervously dart to the carnage before making there way back to Angela.
“and you’re positive this is good?” in a concerned tone
“of course, see he’s getting up”
“Only because she seems to have gone somewhere and… Oh my god she’s got a bar stool, run man run!”
It starts with a playful punch at perhaps an over the top comment. It’s returned by maybe a soft shoulder nudge as you pass by, and then before you know it the games have begun. She hides your phone and you pretend the best way to retrieve it is to do the awkward “I don’t want to! but I have to, even though I’d like to, but its too early to tell if you want to” body search rather than just grab your friends phone and call it.
The battling banjos begin to play as you flick her hair in response to a projectile coaster. She takes your seat so you take the last of her drink (instantly realising how much more delicious it is than yours) The stakes are raised a little with a light tap behind her knee as she plays a shot on the pool table, but is shortly responded to by smashing a pool cue across your back as you line up yours.
Nobody flinches as you’re thrown through the concrete wall, pinned down, poked and pinched. You ponder the size versus strength possibilities of this, but really can’t do the math. In fact as you’re lifted from the ground to be body slammed onto the bar counter you give a little jump to assist the manoeuvre because you still don’t comprehend the physics of the situation.
Why do you do this? You do it because through out all the biting and the giggling, the blood, the lust and the Chinese burns. With all the broken bar stools, missing teeth and shattered dreams, you realise that you have been here before, and that her dousing you in whatever it is inside that bottle and lighting up a smoke is supposedly a good thing.
I had an ice cream once… it’s true, and it was delicious. At least it would have been, I got about three licks in when BAM, little Tara Harris blind sided me out of nowhere, slapping the ice cream from my grasp and kicking my shin before storming off into the chaos of the primary school playground. Now I am not so proud to say that I did not take this well and if you must know I was 9 and I cried, I cried like a little girl.
Now what I didn’t know was that the school disco was coming up in a few days, so when that little bitch jumped me, naturally what she was actually saying was do you want to go to the disco? And the answer despite the shooting pain in my shin and the notion that she is a minion of the anti Christ, was yes. Noted it was primary school and the auditorium spent the whole night with girls on one side and boys on the other but we arrived together so it counts…shut up, it counts.
Lesson learned, love hurts. But you learn this as time goes on, although my time in the sun with that one failed to survive the 4th grade. There are only so many doors a 9 year old can walk into if you know what I mean. The nights were the scariest, she’d come home late, breath smelling of cheap whisky and oreo’s, furious that there was no steak on the table. I’d here the footsteps move slowly closer from down the hall mumbling incoherent sentences laced with naughty words, until they reached my door. I would hide under the covers in the early days but it was no good, she was to smart for that. The door would creak open and I’d be left gazing into the darkness at the slouching and half out of breath figure standing in the doorway. She had something in her hand…there was always something in her hand.
Ha, woman right! what are you gonna do?!
But there is a method to the madness, wether it be a non sexually aggressive first contact or an intended mental imprint/physical reminder that the person exists, it works and the dirty little secret is we all know it. Providing of course the setting is right. If you try to snatch a woman’s purse only to discover she’s a champion kickboxer or whatever don’t go misinterpreting the unholy beat down she unleashes as anything other then what it is, your nether regions may receive some attention but not the good kind so I wouldn’t count it as a win.
But in the right setting, completely different story.
The blurry-ness began to fade as I stared up from the floor watching Brance man-ing the fire extinguisher.
“Hey, Brance”
“Hey man” Brance said with a nod before firing off a few burst fire sssscccchhh’s, “I see your nights going well”
“Did I ever tell you that you’re a beautiful man”
ssssccccchhhh, ssssccccccchhhh “Several times, yes” ssssccccchhhh.
“oh”
I flinched, fearing the worst as I felt a hand clasp mine helping me to my feet. But James just smiled as he patted out a small flame on the back of my shoulder.
“When’d you get here?”
“Just now, I got a little held up with some…” he paused as if considering the consequences of his statement and then continued.”…stuff. hey, you got a smoke”
I reached in my pocket and pulled a cigarette out of the now crumpled pack.
“yeah but there a little, you know! It’s been kind of a physically demanding night”
James straightened it out with his fingers before leaning over and lighting it from a small blaze still going on the top pocket of my shirt
“I can see that” he said as he slowly stepped to the side.
Sssssssccccchhhh
“Cheers Brance”
Brance just nodded in approval.
“So how is it coming along then?” James asked as he scanned the bar
“Pretty good I think” I replied as I moved some broken glasses of the bar counter so I could lean on it. James saw this and raised his eyebrows.
“What? Oh, she kind of threw me on the bar and dragged me across it for a while"
“Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“Alright, my man” James replied as he lifted his hand high in the air. Brance watched with an undeniable aura of confusion as we high fived the said bar dragging incident.
“Are you two idiots serious?”
“What? You don’t think she’s hot?”
“Don’t think she’s!?...” Brance pauses as the confusion continues “Are you insane? You look like you’ve been attacked by some form of jungle cat. and not like one that’s lived in captivity or something, but like a real bad ass, don’t fuck with me kinda cat from Africa, you know that right?”
I looked at James for a second opinion to find him nodding in agreement
“I did not, no! but i’m still pretty certain it’s going well?
“Brance looked at James for a second opinion to find him again nodding in agreement
“Oh come on man, she set you on fire!”
“I know right, I think I’m in with a shot”
James signalled with his head as they approached, we all chatted for a bit before she slapped my drink from my grasp, kicked me in the shin and stormed off into the chaos of the playground. To which I then followed.
“She set you on fire” Brance yelled as I began to disappear, to which I continued onward only replying with a thumbs up, held high in the air as I pressed on.
"Oh to be young again" James sighed as he flagged down the bartender. "Make it strong barkeep"
"And how did your thing go?" Ang asked whilst claiming the adjacent bar stool.
"it doesn't matter"
"sure it does how did..."
"Ang! seriously. Just leave it"
"You're the boss"
Both were left staring straight ahead for a few moments silence
"So you got next round"
it took a second but James turned with a smile
"Barkeep"
I woke up in a dumpster some time later.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Dead remote batteries
Famous quotes:
Beth, complaining to James how she has all these bruises on her but has no idea where they came from.
"oh, some might have come from when I was poking you with my poking stick when you fell asleep."
We all had a good laugh and that was that.
side note:
Two days later James and I were hanging out playing Halo in his room when the phone rang. As I searched for the remote I was stunned to see James reach for the phone with one hand and reach under his bed with the other, revealing a long, thin, wooden device. a device he then proceeded to wave around in the air until he managed to rest it on the televisions volume button.
It took a while to click but I got there eventually.
Evidently the statement "When I was poking you with my poking stick when you fell asleep" Not a euphemism!, completely literal.... you just can't make this shit up.
It did occur to me later that none of us were laughing at the same thing.
I was laughing from some slick wordplay and childish guy humour, Beth was laughing at the idea of James poking her with his man made poker stick thingy as she slept, and James was laughing at the fact that I was under the impression he was talking about his penis when he was actually not.
Recently though James was belting out a rant about his boss to which he referred to him utilizing his poking stick. The statement confused me more than that of which I'm proud of.
Beth, complaining to James how she has all these bruises on her but has no idea where they came from.
"oh, some might have come from when I was poking you with my poking stick when you fell asleep."
We all had a good laugh and that was that.
side note:
Two days later James and I were hanging out playing Halo in his room when the phone rang. As I searched for the remote I was stunned to see James reach for the phone with one hand and reach under his bed with the other, revealing a long, thin, wooden device. a device he then proceeded to wave around in the air until he managed to rest it on the televisions volume button.
It took a while to click but I got there eventually.
Evidently the statement "When I was poking you with my poking stick when you fell asleep" Not a euphemism!, completely literal.... you just can't make this shit up.
It did occur to me later that none of us were laughing at the same thing.
I was laughing from some slick wordplay and childish guy humour, Beth was laughing at the idea of James poking her with his man made poker stick thingy as she slept, and James was laughing at the fact that I was under the impression he was talking about his penis when he was actually not.
Recently though James was belting out a rant about his boss to which he referred to him utilizing his poking stick. The statement confused me more than that of which I'm proud of.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Magic Beans
Collapsed over the bar counter in a massive heap the giant lay sobbing over his failed marriage. It was late and the bartender knew he should have cut him off earlier but hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it, but the hours had gone bye and he had to close up.
Impressively he had manage to be quite stealthy in swiping another bottle of wine from behind the counter when the bartenders back was turned, mentally congratulating himself on his stealth like abilities as he shuffled out the door mumbling in coherent sentences laced with hurt and blasphemies.
A long, detoured path the giant walked until he could finally see the lights of his home fumbling around for his keys as he came closer, the giant tripped on a hard log of some sort sending him quite majestically through the air before crash landing into the cloudy surface below. Crawling back across the ground to find his unfinished bottle of wine, he found himself baffled that he had never noticed this rather large root emerging from the ground like the top of a large vine or something. Convinced it was the evidence of foul play by that heartless wench who ripped his heart out he staggered to his feet, screaming “you bitch” whilst hurling the bottle into the abyss, instantly feeling regret and wishing he had just a little more time with his wine.
Slowly he made his way through the house and finally to his room. The harp had mentioned something to him as he walked past but the giant was still in mourning over his wine and cared so very, very little about anything else but bed. Face down the giant dropped in his bed and there he lay until morning light.
The sun beamed in through the window and the giant was woken by his soul rejecting everything the sun stood for, head throbbing the giant made his way back through the house to find some aspirin bypassing the harps room as he is always greeted with a lecture from that self righteous stringed instrument after a big night. Downing the extra strength pain killers, he fetched from the cabinet a box of goose food and went about delivering the gooses breakfast.
Confused that his beloved goose was not in his room or his pond the giant sought to consult with his harp to see if she knew where the goose had gone. Horror swept over the giants face as he opened the door to see his harp also missing. Consumed by rage the giant raced to the telephone.
“you heartless bitch”
“oh it’s you hello”
“its not enough you slept with someone else but you think you can just come in here and take whatever you want, well guess what! pre nup baby, you signed it”
“look David I have no idea what your talking about”
“and I don’t even know why you took my harp, the harp doesn’t even like you”
“Listen I didn’t take your stupid….wait, what? What did she say?”
“who?”
“the harp!”
“what?”
“what did the harp say about me?”
“oh, does it really matter?”
“that bitch!”
At that moment the giant looked from his window to see what looked like his harp and his goose both of them mouths gagged, slowly levitating slightly of the ground, away from the house. Dropping the phone the giant rushed outside to see a tiny man darting across his yard carrying his friends like a waiter carrying two massive piles of plates in each hand.
“hey” the giant yelled as he followed in pursuit, still feeling the after affects of last night. Baffled at the great strength and speed of this creature for the size of his body he watched as he ducked underneath what looked like a tree root. Thinking to have him cornered the giant began to reason with him.
”look, give me back my harp and my goose and I wont call the cops”
but after no answer, he cautiously crept closer to see that it was not a root but the top of a very tall tree, again impressed by the skill of this burglar as it climbed down this gigantic tree whilst both hands, still keeping the goose and harp captive he attempted to climb down after him only to be boldly reminded by his lack of co ordination that he was still indeed a little drunk.
Slowly, he mounted the mighty fern and one foot at a time began to climb down after him, never looking down, just eyes closed, repeating “just one at a time, just one at a time” like a mantra in his head.
Eventually the giant muscled up the courage to look to see the bottom but as he did he found that he could neither see the ground nor the thief anymore, but as he began to pick up the pace he began to feel a faint vibration in the tree, at first it was nothing almost un noticeable but it slowly grew greater and greater as this unstable vine began to shake with every vibration. Realizing what was happening the giant looked up and found that he couldn’t see the top either, frantically the giant began to rush down the tree losing his footing several times whilst screaming nay begging the creature to stop, but the vibrations just got greater and greater as the pleading giant wailed in despiration.
Finally a loud crack gave way and the stalk began to tip, the giant paused with fear clenching the branch tightly as it began to fall. He began to see the faces of all the people he’d known and loved as the rushing sound of the wind echoed through his ears, he thought of his ex wife and his goose that he had raised from birth, he smiled as he remember the long nights up talking to his harp, just shooting the breeze and having a good time He remembered everything and was reminded that he had lost them all, his wife, his best friend even his pet were gone everything he had ever loved now just a memory, his happiest of memories now his most painfull replay in his head until finally he could remember no more.
The giant hit the ground with a mighty thud as the creature, with a conquering smirk tossed aside the cutting object, a broken shard from what seemed to be from a gigantic sized wine bottle. He picked up the goose and the harp, mouths still gagged and walked back to his home and lived happily ever after.
Impressively he had manage to be quite stealthy in swiping another bottle of wine from behind the counter when the bartenders back was turned, mentally congratulating himself on his stealth like abilities as he shuffled out the door mumbling in coherent sentences laced with hurt and blasphemies.
A long, detoured path the giant walked until he could finally see the lights of his home fumbling around for his keys as he came closer, the giant tripped on a hard log of some sort sending him quite majestically through the air before crash landing into the cloudy surface below. Crawling back across the ground to find his unfinished bottle of wine, he found himself baffled that he had never noticed this rather large root emerging from the ground like the top of a large vine or something. Convinced it was the evidence of foul play by that heartless wench who ripped his heart out he staggered to his feet, screaming “you bitch” whilst hurling the bottle into the abyss, instantly feeling regret and wishing he had just a little more time with his wine.
Slowly he made his way through the house and finally to his room. The harp had mentioned something to him as he walked past but the giant was still in mourning over his wine and cared so very, very little about anything else but bed. Face down the giant dropped in his bed and there he lay until morning light.
The sun beamed in through the window and the giant was woken by his soul rejecting everything the sun stood for, head throbbing the giant made his way back through the house to find some aspirin bypassing the harps room as he is always greeted with a lecture from that self righteous stringed instrument after a big night. Downing the extra strength pain killers, he fetched from the cabinet a box of goose food and went about delivering the gooses breakfast.
Confused that his beloved goose was not in his room or his pond the giant sought to consult with his harp to see if she knew where the goose had gone. Horror swept over the giants face as he opened the door to see his harp also missing. Consumed by rage the giant raced to the telephone.
“you heartless bitch”
“oh it’s you hello”
“its not enough you slept with someone else but you think you can just come in here and take whatever you want, well guess what! pre nup baby, you signed it”
“look David I have no idea what your talking about”
“and I don’t even know why you took my harp, the harp doesn’t even like you”
“Listen I didn’t take your stupid….wait, what? What did she say?”
“who?”
“the harp!”
“what?”
“what did the harp say about me?”
“oh, does it really matter?”
“that bitch!”
At that moment the giant looked from his window to see what looked like his harp and his goose both of them mouths gagged, slowly levitating slightly of the ground, away from the house. Dropping the phone the giant rushed outside to see a tiny man darting across his yard carrying his friends like a waiter carrying two massive piles of plates in each hand.
“hey” the giant yelled as he followed in pursuit, still feeling the after affects of last night. Baffled at the great strength and speed of this creature for the size of his body he watched as he ducked underneath what looked like a tree root. Thinking to have him cornered the giant began to reason with him.
”look, give me back my harp and my goose and I wont call the cops”
but after no answer, he cautiously crept closer to see that it was not a root but the top of a very tall tree, again impressed by the skill of this burglar as it climbed down this gigantic tree whilst both hands, still keeping the goose and harp captive he attempted to climb down after him only to be boldly reminded by his lack of co ordination that he was still indeed a little drunk.
Slowly, he mounted the mighty fern and one foot at a time began to climb down after him, never looking down, just eyes closed, repeating “just one at a time, just one at a time” like a mantra in his head.
Eventually the giant muscled up the courage to look to see the bottom but as he did he found that he could neither see the ground nor the thief anymore, but as he began to pick up the pace he began to feel a faint vibration in the tree, at first it was nothing almost un noticeable but it slowly grew greater and greater as this unstable vine began to shake with every vibration. Realizing what was happening the giant looked up and found that he couldn’t see the top either, frantically the giant began to rush down the tree losing his footing several times whilst screaming nay begging the creature to stop, but the vibrations just got greater and greater as the pleading giant wailed in despiration.
Finally a loud crack gave way and the stalk began to tip, the giant paused with fear clenching the branch tightly as it began to fall. He began to see the faces of all the people he’d known and loved as the rushing sound of the wind echoed through his ears, he thought of his ex wife and his goose that he had raised from birth, he smiled as he remember the long nights up talking to his harp, just shooting the breeze and having a good time He remembered everything and was reminded that he had lost them all, his wife, his best friend even his pet were gone everything he had ever loved now just a memory, his happiest of memories now his most painfull replay in his head until finally he could remember no more.
The giant hit the ground with a mighty thud as the creature, with a conquering smirk tossed aside the cutting object, a broken shard from what seemed to be from a gigantic sized wine bottle. He picked up the goose and the harp, mouths still gagged and walked back to his home and lived happily ever after.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Team Ramrod
A wise man once said to me, a good friend will bail you out of jail but a great friend will be sitting in the cell next to you announcing “that was fucking hilarious”. Actually, this guy wasn’t so much a wise man as much as he was just man, in fact his only claims to fame was not his intelligence but his ability to dot the I’s in the snow and creating multiple objects, shapes and animals with his…. You know what! he could dot the I’s in the snow, nothing else.
I found myself reflecting on these words as reality hit me. This is the code, the great divider between BFF and just F. Those lucky enough to have it are truly blessed whilst those who don’t are considered alone and in the dark. In some cases there are some whom have it in spades and are considered to be bounding around naked, in the orchard above the dark hole where those who don’t are kept. Eating grapes from the vine and chuckling at the others misfortune, announcing at great volume that the view is much better from up here.
And that it is, except for today, today the world seems a little darker as one of my hypothetical fellow prisonees aka orchard dwellers, is heading off for greener pastures in the land of berets, baggett’s and Doc Holiday moustaches.
It would seem my friend the competitions will die with your absence as I know not a worthy adversary in any other. To put a spin on things I do look forward to the hours of extra time coming my way as it is well known that anything with the slightest hint of opposition must be kept away from us at all costs, as nothing else even comes close to imminent until we can claim a winner.
For those in the cheap seats, I’m not just talking about the obvious stuff here, although many a night a drunkin game of ping pong has resulted in playing through till the sun comes up hours after everybody has called it in “alright, alright best out of 1,987,555” , Im talking bout the off chance that one leaps over a fence to get somewhere and the next few hours consists of brave new ways of leaping fences until one is either crowed champion or pronounced dead.
“o.k one foot take off from behind the bush, over the fence, no hands, eyes closed and the overhanging tree branch must tip off your hat….GO!”
Perhaps now that your going I can be a little more productive with my free time. maybe I’ll chase butterflies or something. I did however take on board your suggestions and am sorry to say that sweeping ice is not something I see myself doing in the near future, Broomball is not a sport man! it’s a chore, a god damn household chore, but judge not lest yee be judged, I accept you for who you are and so as a statement of my support in your choice of , ahem “sports” I decided to do a little research on the old google and found a new sport that’s way up your alley man, I mean its not that big yet but baby, we could take it to the top!
Check it, Extreme Ironing man, think about it, you get all the awesomeness that being extreme has to offer, plus the bonus of having a nice crease free shirt when your finished, its win win.
And so as I ponder the future, I cant help but think about the past. I guess it only seemed logical to join forces as it would only be a matter of time before one of us decided to finally bury that hatchet deep into the others skull, not out of hate or spite, but for supreme unchallengeable power. In hindsight, apart from the manslaughter charges, that would have proved to be a mistake. For then Team Ramrod would never have been and the world would go on believing that there wasn’t something out there who could beat them in absolutely everything.
Mercifully, those that have risen against us have been playfully patronised due to their positions, unfortunately resorting to a drastic name change being the only awesome thing left of their team. You know who you are, Team awesome sucks and I say that out of love, love and an awareness of suckyness and those renowned for bringing the suck.
Apart we were strong but together we were invincible, Id like to take some part of the credit but that would be misleading for though there are fields of my own expertise, the truth is it is you who carries the torch even though I will never ever say it again and will be forced to delete this line if it is ever quoted.
And so, the Gods felt threatened and Team Ramrod has been separated into opposite sides of the world, A sad, sad day indeed my friend for we are now doomed to move out of the golden years and into a world without mindless competitions, without pointless arguments and impossible bets, a world without complete and utter desecration and humiliation, A world without RamRod.
Gods speed Superman, You will be missed
I found myself reflecting on these words as reality hit me. This is the code, the great divider between BFF and just F. Those lucky enough to have it are truly blessed whilst those who don’t are considered alone and in the dark. In some cases there are some whom have it in spades and are considered to be bounding around naked, in the orchard above the dark hole where those who don’t are kept. Eating grapes from the vine and chuckling at the others misfortune, announcing at great volume that the view is much better from up here.
And that it is, except for today, today the world seems a little darker as one of my hypothetical fellow prisonees aka orchard dwellers, is heading off for greener pastures in the land of berets, baggett’s and Doc Holiday moustaches.
It would seem my friend the competitions will die with your absence as I know not a worthy adversary in any other. To put a spin on things I do look forward to the hours of extra time coming my way as it is well known that anything with the slightest hint of opposition must be kept away from us at all costs, as nothing else even comes close to imminent until we can claim a winner.
For those in the cheap seats, I’m not just talking about the obvious stuff here, although many a night a drunkin game of ping pong has resulted in playing through till the sun comes up hours after everybody has called it in “alright, alright best out of 1,987,555” , Im talking bout the off chance that one leaps over a fence to get somewhere and the next few hours consists of brave new ways of leaping fences until one is either crowed champion or pronounced dead.
“o.k one foot take off from behind the bush, over the fence, no hands, eyes closed and the overhanging tree branch must tip off your hat….GO!”
Perhaps now that your going I can be a little more productive with my free time. maybe I’ll chase butterflies or something. I did however take on board your suggestions and am sorry to say that sweeping ice is not something I see myself doing in the near future, Broomball is not a sport man! it’s a chore, a god damn household chore, but judge not lest yee be judged, I accept you for who you are and so as a statement of my support in your choice of , ahem “sports” I decided to do a little research on the old google and found a new sport that’s way up your alley man, I mean its not that big yet but baby, we could take it to the top!
Check it, Extreme Ironing man, think about it, you get all the awesomeness that being extreme has to offer, plus the bonus of having a nice crease free shirt when your finished, its win win.
And so as I ponder the future, I cant help but think about the past. I guess it only seemed logical to join forces as it would only be a matter of time before one of us decided to finally bury that hatchet deep into the others skull, not out of hate or spite, but for supreme unchallengeable power. In hindsight, apart from the manslaughter charges, that would have proved to be a mistake. For then Team Ramrod would never have been and the world would go on believing that there wasn’t something out there who could beat them in absolutely everything.
Mercifully, those that have risen against us have been playfully patronised due to their positions, unfortunately resorting to a drastic name change being the only awesome thing left of their team. You know who you are, Team awesome sucks and I say that out of love, love and an awareness of suckyness and those renowned for bringing the suck.
Apart we were strong but together we were invincible, Id like to take some part of the credit but that would be misleading for though there are fields of my own expertise, the truth is it is you who carries the torch even though I will never ever say it again and will be forced to delete this line if it is ever quoted.
And so, the Gods felt threatened and Team Ramrod has been separated into opposite sides of the world, A sad, sad day indeed my friend for we are now doomed to move out of the golden years and into a world without mindless competitions, without pointless arguments and impossible bets, a world without complete and utter desecration and humiliation, A world without RamRod.
Gods speed Superman, You will be missed
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