8.4.2015
After the deluxe Venue Announcement from last week, Robot is exhausted. And Robot chopped off a digit while slicing bacon.
This week you get this:
Point your cars, bikes, motorcycles and shoes to:
The Homestead.
See you there.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Thursday, August 20, 2015
A Dingo Ate my Dingle. (REDUX)
8.3.2015 (originally posted this meeting day, 2005)
I was on a rocket-sled to Hell, as usual, and I figured enough was enough. I switched off the fuel pump, waited for the motor to conk out, deployed all four 'chutes and when the speed dipped just below mach 1 I hopped out, hit the ground running and almost stuck the landing. Alas, a skinned knee is better than the usual ass-over-tits roll through the gravel I usually manage.
I collected myself, straightened up, and started walking. In moments I met my pal. "Where you been," I asked. "I hopped out the 'sled just after you. Thanks for the heads-up, asshole," she said. I had forgotten that she was in the same boat I was and apologized profusely. She said, "anyways ... "
Tonight - Broken Record.
That's right... in the Crocker Amazon.
"Escort quality, hooker prices."
**Cash only** Closes at midnight, so come early.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
I was on a rocket-sled to Hell, as usual, and I figured enough was enough. I switched off the fuel pump, waited for the motor to conk out, deployed all four 'chutes and when the speed dipped just below mach 1 I hopped out, hit the ground running and almost stuck the landing. Alas, a skinned knee is better than the usual ass-over-tits roll through the gravel I usually manage.
I collected myself, straightened up, and started walking. In moments I met my pal. "Where you been," I asked. "I hopped out the 'sled just after you. Thanks for the heads-up, asshole," she said. I had forgotten that she was in the same boat I was and apologized profusely. She said, "anyways ... "
Tonight - Broken Record.
That's right... in the Crocker Amazon.
"Escort quality, hooker prices."
**Cash only** Closes at midnight, so come early.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Look, Ma, Free Beer!
8.2.2015
Let's hope there's free beer somewhere tomorrow! I love free beer.
The other day I didn't exactly get free beer, but it was beer that got me something free: 50 pounds of Scoop Away® kitty cat litter! Here's how:
I went to the Target because the Target has the cat litter that Pork Chop and I like. It comes in 25 pound cartons and I buy a couple of them, because trekking out to Target kinda stinks. So I snag a cart and Tokyo drift the fucker over to the pet section, haul two of the big, heavy cartons into the cart and push over to the beer section. I throw a 30-pak of Coors® Light™on top of the cat litter, then push over to the cleaning supplies section. I throw a couple more things in and push to the checkout counter. At lane 4, I queue up behind a lady with a package of dish towels, a squeegee, lime Jell-o® and a car battery. She paid with coins, so it took a while. I spaced out for a bit.
When it was my turn, I turned the beer carton on its barcode side and the counter gal leaned over from her station and scanned it. I said, "there are two boxes of cat litter here too," and she said, "can I see your ID?" I dug it out and handed it over. She then scanned the cleaning supplies while I put my ID away. She asked if I wanted the bags I brought separated (there were two brown paper bags with handles doubled-up (for strength)) and I said no thanks. Then she asked to see my American Express card, which I had swiped through the zapper a moment before she asked about the bags. I showed it to here and she handed it back, hit a button, and gave me my receipt.
I was pushing the thing out the door when it struck me that she didn't zap the cat litter. I pushed a little farther and was convinced that she didn't zap it. I checked the receipt and sure enough, there wasn't a charge for 50 pounds of Scoop Away®. I chalked it up to one of those times when the dust settles in your favor. That and beer stepping up and working magic.
Tonight - Dovre Club
Get your Irish on!!! (cash only)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Let's hope there's free beer somewhere tomorrow! I love free beer.
The other day I didn't exactly get free beer, but it was beer that got me something free: 50 pounds of Scoop Away® kitty cat litter! Here's how:
I went to the Target because the Target has the cat litter that Pork Chop and I like. It comes in 25 pound cartons and I buy a couple of them, because trekking out to Target kinda stinks. So I snag a cart and Tokyo drift the fucker over to the pet section, haul two of the big, heavy cartons into the cart and push over to the beer section. I throw a 30-pak of Coors® Light™on top of the cat litter, then push over to the cleaning supplies section. I throw a couple more things in and push to the checkout counter. At lane 4, I queue up behind a lady with a package of dish towels, a squeegee, lime Jell-o® and a car battery. She paid with coins, so it took a while. I spaced out for a bit.
When it was my turn, I turned the beer carton on its barcode side and the counter gal leaned over from her station and scanned it. I said, "there are two boxes of cat litter here too," and she said, "can I see your ID?" I dug it out and handed it over. She then scanned the cleaning supplies while I put my ID away. She asked if I wanted the bags I brought separated (there were two brown paper bags with handles doubled-up (for strength)) and I said no thanks. Then she asked to see my American Express card, which I had swiped through the zapper a moment before she asked about the bags. I showed it to here and she handed it back, hit a button, and gave me my receipt.
I was pushing the thing out the door when it struck me that she didn't zap the cat litter. I pushed a little farther and was convinced that she didn't zap it. I checked the receipt and sure enough, there wasn't a charge for 50 pounds of Scoop Away®. I chalked it up to one of those times when the dust settles in your favor. That and beer stepping up and working magic.
Tonight - Dovre Club
Get your Irish on!!! (cash only)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, August 06, 2015
Santa's Little Helper (REDUX)
8.1.2015 (originally posted this meeting day, 2005)
I was thinking about 50 bucks and how I wish I had 50 bucks because I could get me a few things I figure I really need: Beer, ice, Blue Diamond Smokehouse Almonds and some Coppertone Sport Ultra Sweatproof Spray-on SPF 15 because I got a backyard, a lounge chair, a sunny day, an early Cubs road game from Philly and No Fucking Job to get in the way of drinking ice-cold beer and watching the game out in the back. 50 bucks would do it just fine.
I scored 50 bucks at the track one day. I had my racing form and handicapped the shit out of a Tri in the 4th ("Old Dad's Dingus" to Win, "Monkeyballs" to Place and a ugly horse named "Horseboy's KickAz Riding Crop" to Show, boxed). I was confident and went to place my bet. I stood in a long line and inched forward as Post Time approached. Most people around me were doing last minute handicapping: Circling, underlining, scratching things out, calculating and divining the winners. They were all occupied and I wasn't. I was looking around the joint, at them, at the tellers, at the clock and at the line I was in. I happened to look down at the floor and there was that Yankee looking back at me. U. S. Grant. He stared at me from the floor and I swear winked. I quickly checked to my left and my right and everyone was still frantically choosing their bets. So I bent over and snagged the $50. Sonofabitch! My Tri paid off and I hadn't even make the bet. I looked around me again while holding the fifty with both hands in front of me. This time there was an old dude in the line to my left looking right at me. I said, "Whatcha gonna do?" as I thought he saw me pick up the bill. I don't know if he saw me pick it up or not but he saw me standing there holding a fifty dollar bill like a moron and he said the best and only thing that he could. He said, "Race."
Now then, in case you are wondering, it was a horse track. I don't go to dog tracks because those motherfuckers treat dogs like shit. Torture and murder and shit and I don't cotton to treatment of dogs like that. So I boycott dog tracks. BUT! if dogs are running at a horse track, I'm game. And so when the Police K9 competition and exhibition was held at Golden Gate Fields a few weeks back my grrrrl and I were there. It was awesome. We sat in the grandstands, drank beer and watched the police dogs do obstacle courses, swim and best of all, put the BIG BITE down on these geeks in fatty suits. There was a wide range of experience-levels in the dogs and the younger, inexperienced dogs would jog up to the geeks and bite 'em okay but the older, experienced dogs would HAUL ASS up to and HIT the geeks at FULL SPEED and HANG ON. It was totally awesome. These doggys were cops and they knew it. After the exhibition they were lined up at the Happy Donut truck. I swear to god.
Tonight - Bender's (cash only)
Oh yeah ... in case you are wondering ... my Trifecta results from that day: Triple-Dead-Heat. They tied for last.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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