We Are Not Saints

THE Artist Cafe

2009-10-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

This is not a story about AN Artist Cafe. This is not a story about some little Artist Café. This is a collection of stories, that I am not sure when they took place, at THE Artist Café.

See The Artist Café, known as TAC from here on out, is a classy little bar in New Orleans. This is the kind of place you would take your mother. If your mother was into herpes infested prostitutes that were trying to learn how to strip.

I wish I could separate the stories and tell you when they happened, but they happened either on my bachelor party, the worst bachelor party ever, or Duke’s bachelor party, one of the best ever.

It is kind of blurry, but Marcus was there, and he wasn’t at Duke’s bachelor party, and Mangina was there, but he was at both, and I was there, and I was at both, but Jimmy D. was there, and he only went to Duke’s. So it is confusing. Just a drunken blur to be exact.

I remember finding this place walking back to our hotel one late night from Bourbon Street. It is on one of those cross streets where the shady bars that the local drunks go to are located. Jimmy D. and I were minding our own business when a large African American stopped us and said, “Live girls inside. No cover. Why don’t you boys come on in?”

Who am I to turn down coverless naked lady bars? I am not so special that I have to pay a cover to see naked women. Plus this is the Big Easy. This should be fun…

When we walked in there was a smell…rather an odor…of stale urine and poop. That is the only way I can explain it. Jimmy D. and I sit down at the bar. Now this is a shotgun bar. 20 feet across with no end in sight. Where is the stage one might ask? Well behind the bar of course. So the first thing I noticed was the Miller Lite was luke warm at best. So I order a vodka red bull to only find that they use no ice. Just wow.

So this girl, mid forties, is dancing behind the bar, far from the reach of anyone to tip her. Of course if she was closer I would have tipped her to go away. Then the funniest thing ever happened. The music stopped, Ms. C-Section scar got off the stage, grabbed a metal bucket and went around asking for tips. A beaten up old metal bucket. This was just great.

Then a girl comes and sits on Jimmy D.’s lap. This was classic. Jimmy D. starts to small talk her. And I point out the needle marks in her arm. He starts to freak out and we decide to leave. We start heading down the street and I point out his leg. She left a poop spot on his leg.

Now this was just one time at TAC. Next up will be Mangina’s trip the TAC and a pot of lasagna.

The Buddha

2009-10-15T09:42:00.001-07:00

Technically I have committed a lot of felonies. I have never been caught and the statute of limitations has expired on many of these but there are 2 that just stick out beyond any others. They both occurred when I was a freshman in college and pledging SigEp. One was a pledge dare and the other was to show our chapter just what they were getting into. I will start with the Buddha.

Now a Buddha is also known as Gautama Buddha, founder of Buddhism, clan name Gautama (Sanskrit; Pali: Gotama), personal name said to be Siddhārtha (Sanskrit; Pali: Siddhattha), epithet Śākyamuni (Sanskrit; Pali: Sakyamuni or Shakyamuni), commonly known as "The Buddha". He is a smiling fat guy that usually is depicted as a change collector in Chinese restaurants around the world. Usually these statues are positioned near a cash register at the front of these fine delicatessens.
My roommate and another pledge went to a Chinese gourmet restaurant in the heart of South Park Houston. Now South Park is known for a lot of things, crime, poor ghetto families and rappers that touch kids. What it is not known for is Chinese food.
My roommate, Spicoli, and his buddy growing up, Liar, were both pledging SigEp along with me. We had just started to pledge and were going to the pledge introduction at U of H that afternoon. Pledge introduction was neat rite of passage. All the fraternities showed up in a park to show off their new pledges and to show that they were the dominant chapter on campus. We had 15 pledges in our class. It was a sizable class considering that our chapter was still getting over having its charter taken away and was rebuilding. We only had 20 something active members so we were a dominant force within the chapter. They were about to find out that we were going to be uncontrollable and eventually be the cause of our downfall. Lots of foreshadowing here.
We were eating at the restaurant the day before the pledge parade. And Spicoli and I thought how neat it would be to take the Buddha as a trophy. So we returned the next day with Liar and his truck. We had a plan to swipe the Buddha and throw it in the back of the truck. At the time I had no idea how police work. I figured that every time that they got a call it was like a bank robbery and you had 60 seconds to get out of town and hide. I had no idea that a stolen Buddha call would probably take an hour before anyone showed up. If I had known this I probably would have walked home with Buddha.
We start the trip by smoking some fine herb. Well, it was probably shwag weed but at the time it seemed like it was the best stuff ever. Later in life I would have thrown it away rather than smoking it and getting a headache, but at the time I was not picky and weed was a new and neat thing.
We arrive in a single cab manual transmission ford truck. We back the truck into the parking lot and walk into the restarant where I say in a loud voice,”When is everyone else going to show up?”
See, I thought that I would be sneaky and take all the focus off of us by saying something like that and making the 2 staff members rolling silverware unaware of our intentions. But then Spicoli shouts, “Let’s get it”
So Spicoli and I pick up the Buddha. The Buddha stood about 5 feet tall and I thought it would weigh so much more. It was made of fiberglass and was painted gold. I thought it would be solid, but it probably weighed no more than 20 pounds.
We hit the doo with the Buddha and I look behind to see that the 2 staff member are just sitting there with a look of disbelief on their faces as their buddha is being lifted out of their store. It was surreal.
We take off spilling change all over the floor. We were making so much noise and I was thinking about what I was going to do in jail after we got caught. Well we took off out of the parking lot and headed down interstate 45 with a large Buddha in the back of the truck by my side.
No police. No high speed chase. Nothing. It was the easiest crime ever committed. I figured at that point I could take anything, and I would put it to the test through time.
We arrived at the SigEp house with Buddha standing up in the back of the truck much to the dismay of our new fraternity brothers. The rest of the pledge class was in disbelief as was the rest of the fraternity. The look of “oh shit, these guys are going to get us in a lot of fucking trouble over time” was on everyone’s face.
Buddha would celebrate many things with us. It became the pledge class mascot of sorts. He was at intramural games. He went to the pledge parade. He would be at Frontier fiesta and football games. He was an icon.
Buddha never had it so good.
And then there was the handcuff party.
See a handcuff party is a mixer with a sorority where you get handcuffed to a girl for the party. It is supposed to be an easy hookup. Shoot, the girl can’t get away.
Well Spicoli is about to get it on with an unsuspecting AXO member. Well, this was unacceptable to an active member and he took the handcuffs off Spicoli and handcuffed him to the Buddha. Spicoli almost cried. The girl was relieved. The girl that I was chained to thought it was hilarious. And just to let you know, I was unsuccessful at hooking up that night. Something about a liter of wild turkey and throw up just turned her off. Fuck her.
Buddha was eventually confiscated from us after Chucky passed away one night after leaving our party. Our alumni group thought they should confiscate anything illegal from the house in case of a police investigation. Now what the hell do you do with a confiscated Buddha?

Las Vegas Part 1

2009-10-09T22:35:00.001-07:00

Time couldn’t pass by any slower than it did that Wednesday at the office. I was working for an investment company on the 41st floor of the Transco tower in the Galleria area of Houston. It was a giant 70 story building that stuck out in the skyline of Houston. I was 21 and was a glorified customer service agent. The pay was good and I thought it was like Wall Street. I partied everyday at happy hour and wound up keeping it going all through the night. When the coworkers left around 8, my later friends would show at the bar and we would start all over.

I was a fully licensed broker working in support. I was underachieving like I have always done. I go the job as a result of a great interview and knowing 4 fraternity brothers that already worked there. It was dream job at the time, and I would eventually piss it away due to my alcoholic drinking and behavior. I had a promising future with the company and pissed it away to bartend.

But that particular Wednesday was moving tremendously slow. My roommate Shorty was waiting for me to get off so we could go to the airport. We had tickets that night ot go to Vegas. This was my first trip to sin city and we had all kinds of visions of grandeur. We were going to go there and be all Swingers and be the big winners. The trip is no Max Tucker trip or anything like that, although we all thought it would be when we left. Actually there probably was a good chance that this trip was about the biggest dud of a Vegas trip that could have happened.

Two days before Duke and Jesus left for Vegas in Jesus’ car. Jesus was a late addition to the trip. Originally it was going to be me, Shorty and Duke. Duke decided at the last minute to drive to Vegas with jesus and their trip was filled with snow, New Mexico and tickets, but that is their story.

Shorty and I arrived at Hobby airport with dreams of Vegas riches in our eyes. We boarded the Southwest airline flight and started to party right then. This was pre 9/11 and the airline did not care that 2 drunk guys on their way to vegas are strolling the aisles small talking with everyone and buying drinks for entire sections. About 10 Wild Turkey and cokes into the trip and the back stewardess cut us off. But this is Southwest…and there is always a front stewardess as well. She cut us off about 5 Wild Turkeys later when the Wild Turkey ran out. We drank an entire planes worth of the shit.

When we arrive at the Vegas airport we were greeted by Jesus and Duke holding up a sign for us. They were drunk as winos. We exchanged our hugs and started to play slots at every opportunity at the airport. This place was a amazing. There were slots every 10 feet and they even had a Burger King which would be a big deal Sunday morning when we left. The slots were not that big of a deal 4 days later. This is some foreshadowing.

We get outside to find a New York New York limo waiting to pick us up. Duke explains that they have been winning ever since they rolled into town and the hotel sent a limo to pick us up. This was amazing to me.

We get to the hotel, New York New York and we are greeted by name as we check in. I felt like a big time gambler whale type fellow. Vegas knows how to treat you. We dropped our stuff in the room and met Duke down at the craps table with Jesus. We are laying out bets and could not lose. I took a meager $750 with me thinking that it would be enough. When I left that night I had doubled my money and it was time to go out.

Of course being the big girl that I am I had to check in with my girlfriend, the second Succubus, every hour. She stopped picking up saying that she hated it when she had to communicate from so far away and it made her feel awkward. That would be the last time I called the Succubus for the trip. Fuck her.

It was coming to an end with her anyway. She was going to be dumping me within the next few weeks and I had no idea it was coming but at this point I almost wanted to get caught doing something stupid so she would end it and I could feel sorry for myself.

I can be a big fag.

So we leave the hotel and roll up on the Paradise Club. This is the Vegas strip bar. Over 20 Playboy Playmates were on stage that night. We roll up and the pit bosses from New York New York had taken care of us. This city was awesome. Now I am no Duke in a titty bar. I am a bit of a prude. Something about paying for short term gratification has never seemed like a great thing to do. I am just too much of a Jew to pull It off.

Shorty the whole time is talking about getting in touch with Steve Wynn and opening a bar or club with the billionaire casino developer. Shorty always had a scheme and a plan to open a bar or club or restaurant. He always had a plan. One time he had a plan to import Faberge Clocks…the only problem is Faberge makes eggs…not clocks. He was always a step ahead in the bullshit department and in Vegas it was time for him to shine.

He never met Steve Wynn but he kept talking about it the entire trip.

We left the Paradise club with at least a thousand dollars less than we walked into the place with. Shorty even bought a shirt. We headed back down to the strip where we witnessed Duke eat 4 pounds of breakfast sausage. We went to the Holiday Inn buffet and watched as Duke finished an entire pot of sausage. To this day he still has some of that quality meat lodged into one of his intestines.

By this time we are just lit up and it was time to crash. I don’t think Duke ever went to bed the entire trip and he stayed down in the casino for some more playing time.

When we awoke it was day 2. We had a convertible Mustang that Jesus brought with him and we strolled the strip. We went on a few rides and hit a few buffets and then it was time to drink and head back to the casino. We played for awhile and then we played some more. Shorty and I put on suits so we could be real big players and so he could meet Steve Wynn. We were up more money and I wisely deposited a grand back into my bank account. We were comped into the piano bar at New York New York and promptly went to the front of the 100 person line waiting to get into it.

We arrived and the bouncers knew our names and let us right in. We went to the bar and asked him what our comp was and they said to enjoy the night and the bar tab was on the house. This was the best place on earth. We start putting back Wild Turkey and cokes with Jaeger shot backs. Duke pays $250 to hear American Pie, the full version and I actually kicked a shoe across the bar when the song flips off their shoes. I am dancing with a bunch of girls from Iowa that are just aching for some love…but I am at the too drunk to notice that they want me mode. This is a special level of drunk.

I wind up at the blackjack tables with no shoes and I keep spilling drinks on the table. This is no longer fun for the pit bosses. Duke and Shorty take me to the room where Jesus is passed out. Jesus is broke and is headed to Colorado the next morning for a bar gig. Never even heard him leave.

That night Shorty pulls Duke off a craps table to go get something to eat and to possibly talk to Steve Wynn…well at least to get something to eat. They are gone for 45 minutes and when they return to the table the same guy is still rolling on the table. He had a 45 minute roll. He had turned $500 into something like $50000. Duke just never got over it.

The weekend will even be better…to be continued…

The Fish Comes Out

2009-10-08T21:56:00.000-07:00

There are some things in life that confuse the hell out of me. Why do people act the way they do when they drink? Specifically, why do I act the way I did when I drank? Why is the Mangina even a friend of ours? Why does Hooters serve a bunch of 14 and 15 year olds? Why is destruction such a common theme in my life? Why do friends crack under pressure? Why would you sneak out of your friend’s house to destroy your school’s property? I hope to answer some of these and more in the following entry.

This is the spring of 1993. I was still a freshman in high school and I was making it by alright. The days of being a socially awkward kid had turned into the days of being a social butterfly. I hope someone comes from behind me and hits me with a hammer for writing that last sentence.

The evening started out like any other Friday night. We had no sports to play and Easter break was coming up soon. So Duke, Kimbo, Lee and myself are all going out. Mangina was supposed to come as well.

Mangina to this day does not let us off the hook for ditching him on many occasions. There was Mardi Gras 1994 where he drove to Galveston by himself and we told him where to meet us and we never showed. There was this event where we told him we were going to pick him up and we never showed. And there is the infamous Whopper situation that he brings up all the time. Whenever he does bring these things up we bring up the New Orleans trip and he shuts up. Or we call him a stinky Mangina, his nickname, and he starts to pout. Or we make fun of his receding…no…bald head. Why he still hangs out with us is beyond me.

Mangina joined the army after high school. He was some kind of ranger or something. He went in to become a meteorologist but all that math and physics made him jump out of planes. He injured himself on a jump and had to have knee surgery. Now the V.A. loves to cut people open. It is practice hospitals for young surgeons. Well his surgery went bad or something and he started to get blood clots from this. One day in 2002 he was eating thanksgiving dinner with his fiancé, you know the one, and he felt a jarring pain in his gut. He wound up going to the emergency room where they found he had a blood clot in his lower intestine and something like 8 feet had died. He had to have emergency surgery. He went into a coma for awhile and when he awoke he had a giant cut across his belly. Now he has grown a bit outward and his belly has gotten bigger. This caused the giant scar that reaches from his lower sternum to below his belly button to look like a giant ass crack, or as we call it, the Mangina.

Mangina has done terrible things in his life as well so I feel no remorse making fun of his near death experience. Once in Lake Charles he throws down his cards in a Caribbean Stud game face up into the dealers pile keeping 2 people from collecting over $1000 a piece. He gets all angry that they are getting angry at him and pulls his shirt up yelling…”I got this protecting all of you from terrorists!” He did no such thing but the table bought it.

There was also the Whopper incident. A simple little incident that most people would forget, but not the Mangina. One day he sent me, Duke and Lee to the store to buy Whoppers. We had all been drinking the night before and he was the only one with money so we took his money and bought a bunch of Whoppers. Back then they cost $.99 and we bought 8 of them. 2 for everyone. The only problem was we ate them all before we got home and told Mangina that his were in the bag and all that was in the bag were a bunch of ketchup stained Whopper wrappers. He almost fought us all, and this was before he had an ass crack on his stomach so it would not have felt good. He also owned the Brown Beauty, and that alone is enough to fuck with him about.

So Lee came to pick up me in his 1984 Jeep Wagoneer. This thing was awesome. Lee had a Hardship license and was able to drive at 15 which made our adventures start a year earlier than they should have. We went and picked up Duke and stopped off to by some beer. This was the only time in my life I drank Miller High Life. We picked up a 24 pack and had to drive out to pick up Kimbo. Kimbo was from Maryland and was a snob. He really did not fit in with us but when there are only 200 kids at the school you tend to drift towards people that you normally would not drift to.

B y the time we got to Kimbo’s house there was no more beer. I was a bit tipsy. Kimbo was mad. See at 14 there were only so many places that would sell you beer, and the closest was far from this snobby neighborhood. So Kimbo is sober as a school girl. Lee and Duke are feeling fine and I am basically drunk.

We decided that Hooters would be a great place for a few underage kids to go so we drove on down there. Now growing up I had always heard from my mother that this place degraded women, and boy was she right. It wasn’t a strip bar, but as a 14 year old boy this was as close as I could be. Since then I have spent many evenings in Hooters. I enjoy their food, especially the Daytona Wings. I could care less about the scantily dressed women that are flirting with the customers for tips, as I was a man whore throughout the years as a bartender and waiter myself. If wearing tight clothes would have improved my tips, I believe I would have worn them.
Much to our disbelief they served us there. We actually got beer at this place and Kimbo was a bit more happy.

Kimbo then convinced us to see his girlfriend. His girlfriend would one day date all four of us in the car at some point or another. Let’s just say she had a morally casual attitude. We went over there and on the way it was coming down. Springtime rain style in Houston can be a tremendous storm. The water on the feeder roads came up to the doors of Lee’s Jeep. He had a 10 year old Jeep with 10 year old windshield wipers and we couldn’t see shit on the way to Kimbo’s girlfriend’s house. I leaned over and yelled, “What do fish eat…shit!” and bit Duke on the arm. Why? I don’t know. I thought it would be incredibly funny but it just was a dud. But then I kept making fish faces and pretended to swim in the Jeep. I am pretty sure this annoyed the entire bunch.

When we got to Girlfriend’s house we all went in. We were hanging out in the living room while Kimbo and the girlfriend snuck away to make out for awhile. Kimbo was the first guy I knew to lose his virginity and it was with this girl. What an amazing thing to accomplish when you are a dick from Maryland.

We left and headed back to Lee’s house to crash. Then around 3 in the morning we decided to sneak out and drive around. What could be cooler than that? Now for years I have blamed Duke for the following events. I have admitted to him that it was my idea in private, but never have I publically taken blame for the next hour of our lives.

We decided to drive down to our high school. When we got there I suggested we go and destroy the front lawn with Lee’s Jeep. We could drive around in circles and fling mud. Now I was still a little inebriated at this time and Miller High Life was kicking around screaming at me to push Lee into doing this. So I kept encouraging him. Peer pressure is a motherfucker. Lee finally caved in and we start doing donuts in the schools front yard. Then came the crash. We hit a cable fence and tore out 3 or 4 posts when we did it. The Jeep got stuck on the concrete post and we had to flip it to four wheel drive. This was amazing. I blamed Duke for years that it was his idea.

When we got to school on Monday it was the talk of the teachers. Who could have done something like this? Well it didn’t take them that long to figure out who since Lee drove the damn Jeep to school with a big painted dent on the bumper. Kimbo, Lee and I all blamed Duke and he took the fall. We didn’t even collaborate this. We just all figured the next guy was going to blame him so we all did. That was a pretty fucked up thing to do but at the same time Duke getting in trouble sucked a lot less than me getting in trouble.

Las Vegas, The Fish Comes Out, The Saltshaker and Fender and the Honeywagon are all Coming Soon

2009-10-08T19:42:00.001-07:00

Very soon.

The Worst Bachelor Party Ever

2009-10-06T21:12:00.001-07:00

Seriously…how did this even happen. I came to ask that as I stood on Bourbon Street. I stood there in complete shock as I was staring at my wife…at my bachelor party…500 miles from our house.

But that was just the middle of the party. Up to that point it was just a bad bachelor party…at that moment it became one of the worse…and by the end it had taken the first place gold medal award winning 5 star caliber worst bachelor party ever.

My bachelor party started the way so many did. With a sack of blow and a drinking adventure the night before we were to fly out. I was at the Timberwolf Pub working the door and drinking heavily when a buddy, Jason (All names from here on out will change to different names because these stories could contain details that would make someone ineligible to run for office), congratulated me on my upcoming nuptials and handed me a sack of blow. Now I was just starting to enjoy this stuff. The rush it gave me was incredible. And there is no better time to do it than at night in December when the weather is cold and the air is crisp. If you have ever done it you know what I mean.

I stay up most of the night working the door and high out of my mind. I knew our flight left around 12 the next day to New Orleans, and Me, Duke, Jesus, Gerald, Marcus and Mangina all were going to be flying out on Southwest airlines the next day. The only thing between now and then was a final exam I had to take in the morning.

So I am at U of H the morning of my bachelor party. The worst bachelor party ever. I take the exam geeked out of my mind and did surprisingly well on it. That is probably the best part of the trip. Duke and Marcus along with Gerald pick me up at the school in Duke’s Buick. We head to the airport to meat Gerald, Jesus and Mangina. We get to the airport, and start drinking. Now I haven’t slept since the day before and am coming down so I need to drink heavily./ Since we are not driving it is okay. Duke has a car ready for us in New Orleans to take us to the hotel he booked.

So we get on the plane, and how we did what we did after 9/11 is beyond me. I guess 5 drunk white guys and a Mexican that eventually get cut off on a flight that is less than an hour long is not as dangerous as shoebombers. Not like one of us would have tried to commandeer the plane and see if we could land it.

So we get to New Orleans. The Big Easy. Of course this is pre Katrina so everybody on welfare still lives here. The car that is supposed to take us to the hotel that Duke swears is the best in New Orleans is nowhere to be found. So we take a cab to the hotel.

Let me tell you about this winning situation. This place was straight out of the 19th century, with the electricity to prove it. It was on Most Haunted Places in New Orleans, and this place was just fail. Duke is scared of everything that goes bump in the night which explains why over the next 2 days he never showed up. By the way, Duke is married in this story, Mangina just proposed to his fiancé and Marcus is married as well. Obvious foreshadowing.

Well we drop our stuff off and head to Bourbon Street with a stop at the casino first. Everyone loses all their money the first 30 minutes in the door. And when I mean all their money, credit lines have been exhausted. No strip bars for this bachelor. This is heading in the right direction.

We party all night and head back home with the little money we can muster until we can ATM the next day when our limits have not been reached.

This is when the fun starts. We head to a little diner where Marcus all of sudden has to drop a deuce. He comes out about 20 minutes later with a horrible look on his face. He said there was no toilet paper and he had to use his undershirt that he then tried to flush and flooded te bathroom. Things are just starting to go bad again.

We make it through the day drinking 4 for 1 Jaeger shots at many bars. We are sloshed when the evening comes. And much to my dismay my wife shows up…out of thin air…with her bachelorette party. How embarrassing it was. The jeers from the guys could not have been worse. That was the last I saw of Duke and Marcus that night. My fiancé is drunk out of her mind and I have to take her back to the hotel room, which was about as nice as mine and in a worse part of New Orleans. 2 white kids walking down the street and she decided to fight traffic.

When I left her at the hotel I come back to the last bar where I knew people only to find Mangina making out with one of her bridesmaids. Hilarity then ensues.

Jesus, Gerald and myself make it back to the hotel around 5 and find Mangina and the bridesmaid doing the dirty. Now we could not just let this pass as we were sharing a suite with them. We barricaded the door that led to the room they were in with furniture and trash so that it would be awkward to say the least when they were finished. We also kept making noises until they we passed out. Mostly barnyard noises.

The next morning Duke and Marcus arrive and they have robbed two chicks from the night before of their dignity and petty cash. We are horrible people, but it bought us breakfast. Then the bombshell hit. They stopped making fun of me because my wife showed up and started to pick on Mangina for calling his fiancé and telling her that he hooked up with a chick and only kissed her. Why lie about it? Our waiter at breakfast made a great point. You had many cards to play if you got caught. Like the drunk card. The I was on at a bachelor party card and the I was in New Orleans card. And you use the I made out with a chick which made your fiancé suspicious of all events card? What the fuck is wrong with you.

These jabs did not stop. Not on the way to the airport. Not on the plane. We told everyone that would listen. We called it a public service announcement. Everyone agreed that he should have kept that to himself.

To this day Mangina is still with his fiancé, and we still poke at him when she is not around. Duke and Marcus both have had divorces but not for this, but other great things they did. Mangina bailed on my wedding party and so did the chick he hooked up with. Other than being drunk for 48 hours, the whole thing was a disaster.

The Great Pumpkin

2009-10-05T13:49:00.000-07:00

Halloween. 1995. Seems simple enough. I am 17 and all my friends are the same age so why shouldn’t we do something retarded together. Duke came by with his little brother Chuck Woast to pick me up early that evening. It was a school night and we were going to go around picking up people to take them to Chucky’s birthday party.
Chucky was older than all of us but he was in the same grade. He had been held back years ago because I guess he wasn’t bright enough to pass a grade or something. Chucky has since passed on and left this world, and that will be another story another day.
Duke was driving an old S-10 Chevy pick up truck that had all kinds of little problems. The horn would stick periodiacally and the car would die when you turned corners sharply. This is obvious foreshadowing of the events that will follow.
We went into old Pearland to pick up Mangina. Mangina is the buddy that will eventually steal my girlfriend from me with promises of Bennigans and ice skating at the galleria. How could I compete. He also drove the notorious Brown Beauty that would have gotten us better results in the events that will follow.
We then went to pick up Chucky, and his brother Bucky. Yep, they rhyme. Now John Paul was the last to be picked up. Now I am a strapping young buck of 280 pounds and Duke was about the same. John Paul and Mangina were about 6 foot 4 and 250 themselves. Chucky and Bucky were average size folks and Chuck Woast was not the 6 foot 6 giant he would become yet. Now we are all in a single cab Chevy truck. Duke, John Paul and I were in the front seat and Bucky, Chucky, Mangina and Chuck Woast were in the bed of the truck. We were pushing that little truck to its limits. Now somewhere along the way we decided that since it was getting dark that we should start stealing pumpkins and putting them in the back of the truck.
Right before we left my father stood at the edge of the driveway and cursed us with the following, “I don’t want to get a call from the police tonight.”
Now why would he say that? Up to this point he had never received a call from the police, so why now would he say that other than to jinx us.
Now we have a truck load of meaty folks and pumpkins. We pass a house with a skeleton in the front yard and I tell Duke to stop and I get out of the truck, pick up said skeleton and swing it at a gas lamp in the front yard. Before that incident I had no idea the power of natural gas. But when that skeleton hit the top of that lantern it exploded into flames like a gulf war oil well. Hilarity ensued as we screeched out of my neighborhood with a burnt skeleton.
So to one up me Chucky and the guys out back start throwing pumpkins out of the truck bed and watched them explode. Some with candles lit others just plain squashed. And then a BOOM.
Chucky screams out, “I hit a car…GOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
So Duke starts to accelerate, but that is hard with a ton of people in this little truck. Now we are screaming down the road with a Honda in hot persuit with the windshield crushed in. We are screaming down the road throwing beer out of the car knowing if we get caught with beer that we will be in some shit.
Then the first sharp turn happened.
We were out ahead of this accord by at least a quarter mile when the car stalled going around the corner. What made it worse was the horn was now stuck as well. So we are being chased down by this Honda with our horn blaring and basically screaming, “ARREST US!!!”
We are in a high speed chase through Pearland, into the county and then finally stopped in Friendswood. Now we have a Brazoria County Sherrifff, Pearland police and Friendswood Police arresting us trying to figure out where to send us.
Pearland won. But during this whole arrest thing all I could here was the whining woman with the broken Honda screaming, “ My Baby…My Baby…My Baby has glass in her eye…”
And all I could think was Chucky had a great aim. This ain’t no saltshaker. This was a pumpkin, flying 60 miles per hour at her car. And this lady had glass in her baby’s eye. And all I could do was laugh which did not go over well with the police. A simple thump with a baton to the head made me stop laughing.
SO we get to Pearland Jail. They did not know what to do with all of us. Duke was the driver, Chucky was the hurler, the rest of us were witnesses.
At that point we realized that Chucky was not going to make his surprise party. SURPRISE!!!
But we did think we would get away with it, well all of us but Duke and Chucky. We got Lee to come pick us up. And right before he showed my father walked intot he department. Now in my defense, he did not receive a call, because he had explicit directions that he did not want a call from the Police.
I held up my part.

So this is college...Moody Towers

2009-10-04T23:16:00.001-07:00

What a way to start a new experience. I have left behind the halls of the public schools of Pearland and have landed in the hot halls of Mount Carmel in South Houston. The halls are hot since the 40 year old school has no central air conditioning. How did people learn in an environment like this in 1956 when the doors opened? It is 1992 now and there is no air conditioning and the place smells like my grandmas basement.
The floors are a solid granite style tyle that collects dust in the corners. There is a marvelous wood floor in the gym that has the finishes of years and years of polyurethane. Home of the Running rebels. I came limping into this school with my leg broke and my pride reestablished.
Gone are the days of that Mexican bully that I had to deal with and born are the days of a rebirth of sorts. This school was giving me a second chance as it gave so many people a second chance.
Mr. May was the first teacher to introduce himself. He was a proud individual. He was a former captain in the army they say. He was also the disciplinarian of the school. Many a Friday afternoon would be spent painting and cleaning the school under his direct orders.
Duke was the first student to introduce himself to me. He came up during physical education and took my crutches. He was an odd fellow that had a small head. I compare heads due my large cranium that sits atop my neck. I was 150 pounds wet my freshman year and 30 pounds of that was my large head. I had always been a fat kid that got little respect, but here things would be different.
The first week was hot. Hotter than hell. My mother worked at the school and I still had the joy of following in my sisters footsteps as she had graduated just months before. She was the valedictorian of the class of 1992. It would not be in my aim to follow her in those footsteps, as I was a lazy student. But I would socially eclipse her and would make my own mark. A mark that would be hard for others to follow.
I had moved around so much as a youngster that the new school thing was commonplace to me. The next 4 years would be the only time in my life that I stayed put. I had to make my mark. I ran for class president and in a landslide I beat some losing chick. I remember she wanted it badly. And she wanted to actually work at it. I wanted the title and I got it off a smooth speech and help from some friends. Ron Mexico actually helped rig it with the help of Duke. Lifelong friendships were made that week.
Ron Mexico and Duke would play major roles in my life as time went on. I owe both of them so much for me becoming what I am today.
Duke came from a family in Manvel. He had an older brother, TUBS, and a younger brother, Chuck Woast. Chuck Woast would grow to become a giant of a man with ‘Chuck Woast’ tattooed on his ass. TUBS would become a great friend over time but was a total dick in high school. The Navy changed him and so did some girl that crushed him. But that is another time and place.
Their father was a Houston Police officer and a power lifting champion. He was a stern man that now is a humble shell of his former self.
Ron Mexico grew up in Friendswood. You will find that at a Catholic school people come from all walks of life and from all corners of the Houston area. His parents were awfully wealthy. Yet Ron Mexico never flaunted it or showed off. He is still that way and for that I have a great respect for him.
The first few weeks of school were different. I had become accustomed to a junior high of 1000 students. There were now 200 at my high school. Everyone knew me as Mrs. Blake’s kid. And that did help with quite a bit. I did not know yet but my life was going to change within the next week or so when my first high school girlfriend, A little Mexican Chick, asked me out…

Preface

2009-10-04T22:57:00.001-07:00

I want to take the next few pages and recount the stories and experiences that paved my way straight into the parking lot of the Duncan Road Group of Alcoholics Anonymous. At the time of that lonely drive I truly had hit a bottom that was low enough for me to ask for help. My mother had been in and out of 12 step groups so I was familiar with them. I did not know if it was the alcohol or the blow or the ecstasy or any other mind altering substance that drove me over the edge, but it was something. What I did not know was that it was 14 years of just abusing people, places and things for my own selfish consumption that led me there.
I had no more bridges. The road behind me was a charred mess that would have made a suicide bomber proud. The only thing that was different ws that I was not looking at 40 virgins and paradise, but rather a suicidal path of burned ground. I had no hope at that moment. I had a bunch of resentments and I hated god.
Fourteen years is not that long in some lives. But I ran those 14 years into the ground. My behavior can be rooted in so many things. As a child I moved every year or 2 and had to set up a new circle of friends and a new environment to use and abuse. I probably became a sociopath around the age of 16 as soon as I could drive and leave the house. Sure, I was not killing kittens and starting fires, but I was using everyone and everything with no regards for their feelings or well being.
Fourteen years of stories and pain will follow. Some are so ridiculous that they have to be true, and others you may shake your head at in pure disgust. But they are what has drove me to recovery and what has driven me ever since. The most painful experience that a prideful sociopath can experience is walking through the doors of a group and asking for help. I could no longer dig my way out of the problems I faced and that was sad.
So many people have shaped my life and I feel that I have shaped so many people’s lives as well, for the good and the bad.

The stories of my life...

2009-10-03T23:08:00.001-07:00

I am going to slowly...and I reiterate slowly...put to paper the exciting adventures of my life over the last 17 years...starting with this...

So this is high school.
What a way to start a new experience. I have left behind the halls of the public schools of Pearland and have landed in the hot halls of Mount Carmel in South Houston. The halls are hot since the 40 year old school has no central air conditioning. How did people learn in an environment like this in 1956 when the doors opened? It is 1992 now and there is no air conditioning and the place smells like my grandmas basement.
The floors are a solid granite style tyle that collects dust in the corners. There is a marvelous wood floor in the gym that has the finishes of years and years of polyurethane. Home of the Running rebels. I came limping into this school with my leg broke and my pride reestablished.
Gone are the days of that Mexican bully that I had to deal with and born are the days of a rebirth of sorts. This school was giving me a second chance as it gave so many people a second chance.
Mr. May was the first teacher to introduce himself. He was a proud individual. He was a former captain in the army they say. He was also the disciplinarian of the school. Many a Friday afternoon would be spent painting and cleaning the school under his direct orders.
Steve Townsend was the first student to introduce himself to me. He came up during physical education and took my crutches. He was an odd fellow that had a small head. I compare heads due my large cranium that sits atop my neck. I was 150 pounds wet my freshman year and 30 pounds of that was my large head. I had always been a fat kid that got little respect, but here things would be different.
The first week was hot. Hotter than hell. My mother worked at the school and I still had the joy of following in my sisters footsteps as she had graduated just months before. She was the valedictorian of the class of 1992. It would not be in my aim to follow her in those footsteps, as I was a lazy student. But I would socially eclipse her and would make my own mark. A mark that would be hard for others to follow.
I had moved around so much as a youngster that the new school thing was commonplace to me. The next 4 years would be the only time in my life that I stayed put. I had to make my mark. I ran for class president and in a landslide I beat Panda Knight. I remember she wanted it badly. And she wanted to actually work at it. I wanted the title and I got it off a smooth speech and help from some friends. Greg DeHoyos actually helped rig it with the help of Steve. Lifelong friendships were made that week.
Greg and Steve would play major roles in my life as time went on. I owe both of them so much for me becoming what I am today.
Steve came from a family in Manvel. He had an older brother, J.D., and a younger brother, Charlie. Charlie would grow to become a giant of a man with ‘Chuck Woast’ tattooed on his ass. J.D. would become a great friend over time but was a total dick in high school. The Navy changed him and so did some girl that crushed him. But that is another time and place.
Their father was a Houston Police officer and a power lifting champion. He was a stern man that now is a humble shell of his former self.
Greg grew up in Friendswood. You will find that at a Catholic school people come from all walks of life and from all corners of the Houston area. His parents were awfully wealthy. Yet Greg never flaunted it or showed off. He is still that way and for that I have a great respect for him.
The first few weeks of school were different. I had become accustomed to a junior high of 1000 students. There were now 200 at my high school. Everyone knew me as Mrs. Blake’s kid. And that did help with quite a bit. I did not know yet but my life was going to change within the next week or so when my first high school girlfriend, Erika, asked me out…

Jeez i have been lazy

2009-09-21T22:28:00.000-07:00

I haven't had time to update this in awhile. I started school, the last semester of my life. UH football is a top 20 school for the first time in 18 years and as a fan I do not know how to take it.

I got an office for my work so we have a physical address. I hired 4 new sales people. I am getting roofs done in conroe, jersey village and an occasional Ike claim. I am also installing radiant barier now.

The Cardinals have a magic number of 3. I twitter more. I am a level 300 in mafia wars. I am almost done with school. I submitted a formal graduation application. It was accepted...as long as i pass the last 3 classes.

I got a race car. It is a 97 chrysler sebring. i also got a trailer. next is a firesuit, helmet and everything else. I may be racing on the 3rd.

My liver is better, but it is not great. I abused it for years. Kennedy got her progress report and she gets real grades now, not just S and E. Her lowest grade was a 94. She is awesome.

Things are good right now.

Dooms Day Wrestling

2009-09-02T21:03:00.000-07:00

This is hard to explain. But let me first tell you that after a Matza Maker and a Spinning Dradel wrestling move the Kosher Killer retained the Doomsday World Championship.

With Slim Tex and Dirty Sanchez as the commentators the crowd had a great time.

This is a commedy wrestling show and it is awesome. Ashley and I made it to Fitzgeralds early to get a good seat and sancezarito cheeze balls. These are cheese puffs that everyone throws at the wrestlers...constantly.

Check them out at http://www.doomsdaywrestling.com/

I cannot write enough to do them any justice...

Here is ashley, Dirty Sanchez and me...

3 years celebrated tonight

2009-08-26T20:58:00.000-07:00

3 years and 6 days ago I got sick and tired of being sick and tired. Outside of the program I know no one that has 3 years of sobriety. So many people have helped me through it and I am grateful to them all.

I have much work to still do. I make ammends daily with my actions. My wife and daughter do not have to live with a drunk addict anymore. The addict part I still have problems coming to terms with.

See, that part is hard. I saw my uncles and others that were drunk addicts working the kitchen at waffle house living in their parents basements. That is what addicts did. They go to prison. I had a house, cars and stuff. O fcourse I was always 1 paycheck away from bankruptcy.

I have alot of amends to make. I was a bad son and a horrible brother. It was always about me. This year is the 4th year and many people say that the years follow the steps. Year one you become aware of your powerlessness over the next drink or drug. Year two you find your god of your understanding. Year three you learn to use that god.

I was raised religeously, but I am far from being relegious. I cannot spell religieouus. I am going to stop trying. I am horrible at praying, but I pray for others all the time and not for myself anymore. The thinker in me dismisses the god concept, the eternal optimist embraces it. But someone is looking out for me always...2 things I know about god...he exists...and I am no longer him.

well the 4th year is cleaning up the wreckage of your past. Taking a complete and moral inventory of your actions that got you here and finding the reasons and no thte excuses of why this happened. I am looking forward to this year.

Thank you.

Ever jsut not want to go to bed?

2009-08-24T23:01:00.000-07:00

I am sitting here running out of things to do. I have stuff to do tomorrow. I have to go to the doctor. I have to meet an ad rep with the Chronicle. I have to watch the movie 'The Goods' again. I have to get Kennedy on and off the bus and take ashley to and from work because her car is in the shop.

I have to get up in 6 hours.

I think if I went to bed I could sleep, but then I would miss the 3rd rerun of Sportscenter.

I have a new website coming for my company, www.dgmroofing.com but it is not ready yet. Waiting for a ticket from hostgator.

I pick up my 3 year chip on wednesday and that is neat.

I am rambling on while I type.

That is odd.

Don't forget to go to www.fatguysracing.com and check in with us.

Of course since my sister and wife are the only people to read this, I am preaching to the choir.

I am Ian's disgruntled liver

2009-08-21T23:01:00.001-07:00

I am Ian's disgruntled liver. This guy put me through hell for years. When I was a healthy young lad he started putting me through the everyday routine of binge drinking. I was young enough to recover and had enough wisdom to know that this was just a phase.

A phase it was not. Years passed by and Ian never quit abusing this employee. I tried to go all postal a few times by giving him incredible hangovers and then the bastard just kept on going.

So now I am disgruntled. I have crazy enzyme levels and I am making him go see the dreaded doctor. I have raised my enzymes and even talked the old brain into kicking his butt by taking on a bad side effect to his medication and elevating his tempature to 105.7 so he would go see a doctor and visit the ER where they would run tests on him. I am even making him go back to run more.

The fat bastard neglected me for years and now I am geting back at him.

I am Ian's disgruntled liver.

Firsts

2009-08-17T22:56:00.000-07:00

Stole this from my sister...

Who was your FIRST prom date? Meredeth Mulvey

Do you still talk to your FIRST love? No.

What was your FIRST job? Ben and Jerry’s at the rodeo.

What was your FIRST car? 1974 Triumph Spitfire. I miss it, but only when I forget to remember what a pain in the ass it could be. Just kept her answer. Nothing like breaking down every other week.

Who was the FIRST person to text you today? Tony, my NA friend.

Who is the FIRST person you thought of this morning? Ashley, as she was waking me up.

Who was your FIRST grade teacher? Mrs. Burberick…she taped me to a desk once.

Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane? California.

Who was your FIRST best friend & do you still talk? Tommy Flowers. Nope.

Where was your FIRST sleep over? Tommy’s house

Who was the first person you talked to today? Ashley.

Whose wedding were you in the FIRST time? Bridgett’s. There were swords.

What was the FIRST thing you did this morning? Printed off Mark Hammond’s insurance card because his printer was broke.

What was the FIRST concert you ever went to? U2 Joshua Tree.

FIRST tattoo? Sigma Phi epsilon. Left ankle. 5 tattoos ago.

FIRST piercing? Ears, I was 23. I got permission at 16, but dad ruined for me when he got his.

FIRST foreign country you went to? You boys been to Mexico!!!!

FIRST movie you remember seeing? Star Wars. Empire Strikes Back. Drive in.

When was your FIRST detention? 7th grade. Dad made me walk home from Pearland Junior High.

Who was your FIRST roommate? Andy wiginton.

What was the first sport that you were involved in? Soccer.

What were the first lessons you ever took? Yeah…

What is the first thing you do when you get home? Check the internet.

When was your first kiss 'that you would count'? Jennifer…from the neighborhood…8th grade.

In what grade did you first feel really confident? 9th grade. New start at MCH. Wound up student body president 4 years later.

When did you receive your first "F" in school? Spanish, 7th grade. Made a 28.

First important event / activity from which you were cut? With a knife?

What is your first memorable family vacation? Southern California. Bevin threw up in the staion wagon and we were always reminded everytime we got in that damn car and it was hot.

What was your first drink? 3rd grade. Beer. Danny wibbenmeyer’s graduation party.

What was your first trip to the ER? Broke leg. Should have gone when I broke my head, but dad tied it off.

Where was your first apartment? Stonehaven. Just bad.

Did you marry the FIRST person to ask for your hand in marriage? I guess.

Intervention

2009-08-17T22:34:00.000-07:00

I am a big fan of this show. I am watching two brothers that are heroin addicts right now. They smoke heroin, which is odd in itself. It is a Mexican family, which is rare on this show, and they are selling and using large quantities of heroin. The parents are in complete denial.

I often wonder what my parents would have done of if I started the habits I later had in life under their roof. I am pretty sure they would not have had an intervention on tv. They would have had a major incident on their hands and probably pleaded out and served probation instead of jail time.

These were just not options growing up. I think I smoked pot a handful of times in high school, and i drank a bunch. But the drinking was accepted because I was the son. I was popular, not to toot my own horn, and I was in the middle of everything. But I cannot imagine doing coke in my living room growing up or smoking crack in my backyard. Just on a side note, I never smoked crack, that was a dirty drug. Never poked a needle either, because that was what homeless junkies do. It is a double stndard. There are acceptable drugs amongst the people that I rolled with...literally rolled with.

I remember once that my father pulled me into the backyard and told me not to do drugs. That was my drug talk. He thought that since I was coughing in the shower that I was smoking pot. He was concerned that it would affect my football playing that year. He said he had smoked cigarettes for 20 years and did not cough like I did. I guess that is good logic.

I smoked cigarettes from 14 to 30. I drank from 14 to 28. I often wonder the reason behind that. Is it because of peer pressure or because it was okay or if it was becsause my father did it. I don't know. I think that a lot of this addiction is learned behavior that then twists the wires in your head until you are sick.

I have always had the 'addictive personality'. I like to go for fourths at the buffet as a kid. i always wanted seconds at dinner. i was a fat little kid and I am big old adult. You don't weigh in at 280 because you are using proper protions. It was deemed okay that I eat more. It was burned into my head as a youngster that these were okay things to do. I wanted more toys than other people. I wanted more cd's than other people. More rock n roll t shirts. More of this and more of that. I went on a Tommy Hilfiger and Polo thing during high school. I did whatever it took to get the clothes I wanted. I have always had this type of addiction to consumption.

I wonder if the people on intervention are like that. Did these little Mexican brothers do the same thing? what made them cross that line to smoking heroin. Could I have ever gone there? Glad I didn't.

well, let's see if they accept help. I sometimes root for them to fail. Kind of sick thinking. But it reminds me that I can fail at this and it makes me grateful that they did it and I didn't.

So I am sitting here with my wife...

2009-08-16T00:15:00.000-07:00

And she is confused over the following subject. That subject is Flogging Molly. If you have never heard Flogging Molly you are just missing out. If you have heard them, then you just understand that this may be the best thing to happen to music since...well at least the best thing to come from Ireland since Whiskey and Potatos. Check them out here.

We came back from the races tonight with a lot of information on the costs of cars and the price of racing them. I watched a 10 year old kid take his super go cart and drive it 50 miles an hour into a concrete wall. The car was gone, but the kid jumped out and walked off. Quite a few wrecks tonight. I will bring the camera next time and will post a lot of pictures. My neighbor's girlfriend took a few pictures of Ashley and I and even one with Ashley in my neighbor's car.

Good night www.

Check out www.fatguysracing.com for all new updates. Merchandise section will be coming soon. T shirts, koozies, stickers, tank tops and hats. We are soul less attention whores.

So I am in Dallas

2009-08-13T14:14:00.000-07:00

It has almost been a week sinc emy last post. In that time I have incorporated the Fat Guys Racing team, built a shabby little website, addded a song to that website that you have to have a pop up blocker disabled to listen to, sold some roofs, collected some money, paid some bills, made a B in the last class i will ever take at UH during the summer, had a petition approved to switch classes in order to graduate only to have the class I petitioned to switch to get cancelled by the university, going into freak out mode with one the dean of my school, got the problem fixed with a new petition and guarentee that this time it would not be cancelled, woke up at 3 am this morning and drove to Dallas, went to a State Farm adjuster class and checked into the very nice 4 star Grand Hyatt at DFW airport (Thank you Priceline) and now I am updting this...

Was that a run on sentence?

Fat Guy Racing...

2009-08-08T18:05:00.000-07:00

Soon to be fatguyracing.net

Fat Guy Racing is Born

2009-08-08T14:58:00.001-07:00

VROOM!!!!

2009-08-05T06:37:00.001-07:00

And it just gets better this morning. I found out that it only costs $25 to register a car to race!!!

This is awesome. I also just found Jango...this is the best internet radio that I have ever heard. I am listening to Ned's Atomic Dustbin because they came up within a conversation last night. This thing rocks.

Now I know that some may think that I will not race a car ever, I want to say that you are wrong...dead wrong.

And it just gets better. They pay the winners of this thing...

Pro StocksFEATURE
1st - $350
2nd - $250
3rd - $200
4th - $150
5th - $100
6th - $50
7th - $50
8th - $50
9th - $50
10th - $50
Beyond 10th will also be $50 payout per car for all cars starting the race. There must be a 13 Car Minimum Starting Field for Full Payout. Less than 13 cars starting the race and the purse will be 50% payout per position. No entry fee.

Oh my goodness. I am off to climb a few roofs with high pitches today. I am living the life of a crazy daredevil guy. But not a gay Ben Affleck daredevil kind of guy.

Here are a couple of pics of what the cars look like.

Link.

Link.

Link.

Link.

Link.

So...maybe i have a little of the whitetrash gene ma...

2009-08-04T13:03:00.000-07:00

I went out Saturday night to Houston Motorsports Park. My neighbor and one of my roofing customers both race modified track cars out there every other Saturday night. Daniel, the neighbor, has been asking me for sometime to come out and watch. I did. I also brought the wife and child.

I was expecting a couple hundred people there watching some race cars. There was well over 1000 people there watching race cars. I also never expected to just get hooked in one evening.

Midway through my wife looked at me...with hesitation...and asked how long before I was going to be down there. I looked at her and jokingly said never. She pried some more. I said within the year.

I called my business partner and he is in. I talked to a guy I know at a Dodge store, and he is in. I am pretty sure that I can get sponsorship from a few car dealerships. I am going to do this.

When I was drinking I made a list of things I wanted to do before I died. I cannot remember them all, but a few have stuck and I am going to accomplish them. First was graduate from U of H. Almost there, 9 hours to go. I also want to learn a musical instrument. I have 2 sisters that learned how to play music and I have always wanted to. I also want to learn a nother language, and rosetta Stone starts in January. And there is a book I want to write. Maybe. I think my adventures would be fun to read about. Now there is a new line. To become a race car driver. I have no dreams of NASCAR or anything like that. Just Pro Stock circle track racing.

If anyone has about five grand to donate I could start next weekend on my birthday.

This is going to be awesome.

Ian was a racecar driver...drove so goddamn fast...

2009-08-04T08:54:00.001-07:00

I want to be a racecar driver. more to come.

3 songs of sobriety

2009-07-27T13:50:00.000-07:00

I am not a big fan of big book thumping AA members that are off to save the world. I am even less of a fan of celebrities that go out and carry AA hints and then they go off on some heroin binge that makes the recovery program look silly.

One of the traditions of AA is that we shall always remain anonymous at all levels of press, film and radio. Basically we don't need a celebrity endorsement. More because we don't need the celebrity to fail and then have the groups in general get a bad wrap.

This is why you won't find any articles or news stories of Mike Tyson's 3 years of sobriety. Or Brett Favre's 20 years. Or Alice Cooper's 30 years. Or Ozzy Osbourne's 25 years. It is not beneficial, because for every one of them there is a Lindsey Lohan that pimps herself for the good of only her.

But there has been great music that has come from people that have recovered that is very touching to this guy.

I know what I was and what I am. A lot of people do not know the depths of my addiction and alcoholism. It has taken 3 years to finally say the word addict when describing what I was and what I am. I never tried a mind altering substance that i disagreed with. I had my choice of product, but to say no was ludicrous.

I have 3 particular songs. The first is Stevie Ray Vaughn's Life by the Drop. This was the first song he recorded, and the only acoustic studio recording of his career, after he emerged from rehab. He had a bad a cocaine habit and like to drink. The riffs and the lyrics to this song just have a pain and suffering that you cannot fake. You cannot fake the aching that he sings. Running into those friends that you toasted 'to the end' and they are still going that route, and you are not. It is depressing when you run into these people. Like watching a loved one die...slowly...without their knowledge.

The next song is The High Cost of Living by Jamey Johnson. This song just explains the last few days...weeks...months of my party. 3 days straight was no big feet to get by on no food or sleep and crazy was becoming my new norm. I couldn't even tell i was alive. What is funny is how he talks about when god turned his back on him, and I can remember sitting there thinking why did he turn his back on me. What did I do wrong to earn this. Of course with my back up against that damn 8 ball I didn't have to think or talk or feel. I just never had the whore or the cops. But there was a bunch of yets that never came around.

The most powerful song that I have found about this topic is Social Distortion's Ball and Chain. I for years thought this song was about the daily grind of work and no play. Not about Heroin addiction.

Well it's been ten years and a thousand tears
And look at the mess I'm in
A broken nose and a broken heart,
An empty bottle of gin
Well I sit and I pray
In my broken down Chevrolet
While I'm singin' to myself
There's got to be another way

This opening is just another woe is me life is tough kind of lyric. I cannot remember how many times when there was nothing left to alter my conscience thinking and praying that there had to be a better way. Everything is fine. Broken nose and broken car are normal problems that I will overcome...

[Chorus:]
Take away, take away
Take away this ball and chain
Well I'm lonely and I'm tired
And I can't take any more pain
Take away, take away
Never to return again
Take away, take away
Take away
Take away this ball and chain

The next verse opens up the emotions in my Psyche.

Well I've searched and I've searched
To find the perfect life
A brand new car and a brand new suit
I even got me a little wife
But wherever I have gone
I was sure to find myself there
You can run all your life
But not go anywhere

This hits home. No matter how much I ran from my problems. No matter how hard I worked to show everyone that I was better than them. No matter the new car, home, clothes or job. I was always there. I was always there to bring me back to where i belong. I can run all my life and not go anywhere. I ran all of my life. Ran from here to there and never got anywhere. I never got anywhere until I stood still and let it all hit me.

[Chorus:]
Take away, take away
Take away this ball and chain
Well I'm sick and I'm tired
And I can't take any more pain
Take away, take away
Never to return again
Take away, take away
Take away
Take away this ball and chain

The chorus by now usually has me tearing up...

Well I'll pass the bar on the way
To my dingy hotel room
I spent all my money
I've been drinkin' since half past noon
Well I'll wake there in the mornin'
Or maybe in the county jail
Times are hard getting harder
I'm born to lose and destined to fail

In every addict alcoholics mind there is a time when you just give up. some get into recovery, some just quit life. After all it keeps getting harder and we are destined to fail. I love this song. I can listen to it over and over again. The lead singer wrote this after about 6 band members came and went and the band almost dissolved on new years eve one year when his addiction just made the show unbearable.These guys have been rocking for almost 30 years. I am 1 year older than them, and I am still mad that it took me 28 years to find them...

Well that was a waste of a perfectly good week and a half

2009-07-23T14:00:00.000-07:00

Seriously, that was a really long 11 days. I do not recomend it to anyone. I honestly cannot believe it is Thursday the 23 of July. At least a lot did not happen. No clebebrity deaths. No crazy plane crashes. Just boring July dog days of summer. I guess if you are going to ride a fever this is a good time of year to do that for 7 of those 11 days.

I have this headache, and I am pretty sure it is becuse my mind was slow roasting in the crock pot that is my head. I kept it simmering at 102-105 constantly, but without stirring it only has caused small amounts of painful headaches around my head. I just cannot get rid of it.

I also feel like I have the strength of 4 three year old girls. I am looking forward to climbimhg back into the gym this monday. I did lose a little weight since I really did not eat for about a week.

My doctor blames the Lamictal, so I can no longer take that. I am now going to take Abilify. Hopefully this works out a little better. I was enjoying the stabilizing power of Lamictal, and have been told that Abilify will do the same.

I am tired now, I have only the strength of 3 three year old girls now.

I have a fever of 102.2

2009-07-15T17:27:00.001-07:00

That is all.

I think I have the flu.

2009-07-14T19:13:00.000-07:00

I had the worst personal experience with something that I am calling the flu last night. I awoke at 230 and I was cold. Creepy ice water cold. Cold like naked in the snow cold. I could barely walk and was almost to the point of convulsing. I was shaking so bad and my teeth were chattering at a million miles an hour. I grapped a couple of blankets and tried to go back to sleep and awok again 5 minutes later. This was the coldest I have ever been.

I woke up this morning and to my suprise I was no longer cold but instead I was drenched in sweat and ached everywhere. At first I thought maybe it was the medication I was on, and I even called the doctor to let him know and to see if these were side effects. They are not.

So now I am watching Rescue Me. By far one of the 2 best shows on TV. The other being Burn Notice. I am tired and worn out now from typing.

It is like Christmas Eve for this guy

2009-07-13T22:09:00.001-07:00

The new NCAA 2010 video game is coming out in about 7 hours and 51 minutes and this guy cannot wait for his reserved copy. I guess I just caught that gaming gap generation. I am not a big first person shooter kind of gamer, but when it comes to college football...i have a bit of an obsession, much to my wife's dismay. She will see me sometime in early September when it is time for real football to start, but until then I will be present...just not here.

La Quinta and hair

2009-07-13T09:01:00.000-07:00

So I am now sitting here at the La Quinta. I am sitting here while everyone else is frantically trying to finish this sample exercise. The exercise is to build a complete house estimate with the parameters that he has given us. He started it at 1015 and gave us until 130 to finish. I finished at 1045. I am not saying that I am the smartest person in the room...but...

My hair has come up in comments. I have this white guy afro now and I love it. Ashley, my wife, absolutely hates this hair and my friend Steve says it makes me look like a fat girl. These comments do not fade me. I got my haircut last on the Friday before J.D. Townsend's wedding to his Polish wife. I was fired from Lawrence Marshall the next week because of declining sales after Hurricane Ike...yep...declining sales after a natural disaster.

I then went into business for myself as a roofer. Mike, my business partner, and I had a bet, that I won, on who would cut their hair first. I also grew a beard. I truly looked like a hobo by January. But like an NHL playoff particpant from the 1970's it became a status of luck and we have had our fair share of good fortune since I last cut my hair. So until I am disqualified from my Stanley Cup playoffs of sort...the hair will continue to grow.

My wonderful locks are now a source of great discussion everytime that I see someone that I have not seen for some time. Like my sister Bridgett that seems to be a bit in shock over it. The damn stuff is so curly that it stands on it's own.

The La Quinta Dilemna

2009-07-13T06:57:00.000-07:00

I am at this La Quinta conference room learning the ins and outs of the computer program that is used in insurance adjusting. There are roughly 50 people in a room that could easily accomodate 25. We all have these wonderful tables that we are sitting at that are all of 18 inches wide and maybe 5 feet in length. Of course 3 of us sit at each table and we all have to have a laptop open and on.

This was a bigger adventure yesterday morning as the hotel was full of teenage girls and their hairdryers. The power kept tripping.

I seem to be the smartest person in the room. There are a lot of extremely dumb people that have taken and passed the Texas adjusters license test and are now taking the software side. These people all think they are going out there and just getting a job and everything will be fine and dandy. I am sure a few will, but like my class, I can only envision about 5-10 of these people being able to pull this off. How is the 250 lb fat lady in the back of the room that chain smokes on every break really going to get up and inspect and sketch a 2 story roof? How is the 80 year old man with the cane going to do the same? Half of the room cannot turn on their computer and they are going to be expected to work from those darn nagged contraptions?

I am able to blog right now because I finished the sample work he just assigned us 30 minutes before the next guy will.

I am not being conceited, people are just not that smart at this particular La Quinta...maybe at a different La Quinta people are smarter. Have you ever felt that you are at the wrong La Quinta?

Lamictal helps keep my mood...

2009-07-12T23:31:00.000-07:00

Hello,

I would like to introduce you to Lamictal. Lamictal is a tiny little pill that is supposed to stabilize my moods through time. It has almost been 2 weeks since I started this medicine. I must say at first it just made me woozy and tired, now it keep sme up all night and makes me feel stoopid.

Seriously though, ever since I can remember I have always had 100 thoughts racing through my head at all times. This was normal to me. This is how it has always been. My head has always been spinning very fast. It is at a complete stand still now.

This standstill is odd to me. I have times that I am thinking of absolutely nothing at all. NOTHING!!! This scares me a bit since it is so alien to me. I catch myself sometimes thinking of nothing and start to try to think about something only to realize that I am not thinking about anything and cannot remember the last 5 minutes because nothing was going on. I know where I have been, and what I was doing, but there is nothing else...this is odd.

Since I thought this part was normal and that was what life was inside everyone's head, I had no idea that I had the manic part of this disorder/disease thingy.

I knew I had the depressive episodes...these were easy to spot and I was aware that they were depressive episodes, since they just made sense in my ever wondering head of mine...

Depressed mood...check
Sleeping too much or too little...check
Fatigue...check
Feelings of excessive and inappropriate guilt...check(even though this is normal since I am Catholic)

Now alot of people have these feelings, but the time frame of 2 weeks came up. If you have these episodes or combinations of these episodes for a duration of 2 weeks or more and nothing major has happened like...

Death of a loved one
Divorce
Loss of job
Substance abuse...wait a second...

See there is my problem...all along...it is this substance abuse problem. When I sobered up on August 20, 2006 I had not felt emotions for years. Not true emotions. Not emotions that I did not medicate myself out of. Let me rant on this subject for a moment. See when someone sobers up in a program of recovery like AA they are flush to all these new feelings and emotions. Depression and euphoria set in through time and people get confused with all these new feelings. I blamed this to diagnose my feelings. I am depressed because I cannot drink or get high. I am happy because I am noting things that I didn't when I drank or got high. But eventually the majority of those people that stick around level out and just start living life on life terms. After 3 years this was not happening to me. I could never get outof the depression and was unaware of the highs because they were just normal. See the manic side i always thought was staying up for 4 days and painting the house or something along those lines. When I found out that it was that for some people, most people considerred the manic side what was always going on in my head...

Inflated self-esteem or grandiosity...check
Excessive talking or the need to continuously talk...check
Racing thoughts with plenty of ideas...check
Inability to concentr...what am I typing...
Increase in goal oriented activities...like these lists

I thought that was normal...now I am finding that being able to stare at a wall and not think about the framing, drywall, paint, the framer that built it, the painter that painted it, the salesman that sold the house, the original owners choosing the color, the Mexicans that built the house, the foreman that put the whole thing together and the house next to it is normal.

That is what is so odd to me.

Good night. I like this.

I am a blogger, a unique individual that has internet access and time on his hand. You are not as special as I am.

2009-07-12T23:14:00.000-07:00

I am going to blog now. I guess it could be the whole, "It is 1:15 in the morning and I have to be in a training class in 6 hours and I cannot sleep because I am on some medication that has made my sleeping habits, to say the least, bizarre."

I don't know what to type. I do think that this is needed since my doctor, my head doctor, has told me to write down my daily feelings and keep a record to see if my medication is working. I am what they call, bipolar 2. Not quite as crazy as bipolar 1. Funny thing about bipolar disorder...

See people keep telling me that this is a disease, and in my heart of hearts I want to believe it. I have to get over the blame game on this. I don't want to blame this on my behavior in the past, and that keeps me from accepting there is something wrong or broke or wired incorrectly in my head. I have to accept this is not an excuse, but a reason for my behaviors.

See, when you are bipolar...sorry...when you have bipolar disorder there seems to be a stigma attached to it. The stigma starts with the fact that I said when you are bipolar. See, it is bipolar disorder, but yet people say the following, "John is bipolar." If John had say, cancer, one would not say, "John is cancer". That is the first thing that I have to overcome. This is all in my mind. I have told a few people about this and each one is so compassionate about this. I am truly mindf***ing myself.

Enough about that for now, though I am sure that it will bring much content to this...this...this...blog thing.

Just to add on to the bp thing one more time, I also am a recovering alcoholic and addict. YEAH!!! More of that to come as well.

I am going to press the public post now and see how this turns out. I hope someone reads this.