Sean.

Don't. Be. That. Fucking. Guy.

How can I leave?....

Wow, so you all heard of my wierd fuckin' night. This night was different. Not so much wierd as it was fuckin' awesome. I can't wait to get back to Spokane, God knows that, but I'm still not sure how I can ever leave California.

So, to start off the story, its my last day at work until I come back home for Christmas to make back all the money I spent on liquor over the fall semester (God knows it will happen). So the guys at work (between the ages of 38 and 58) decide to take me out to Hooters after my last day of work. So I say, "Hey, great fuckin' idea"

So I clock out at 4:40, speed off to hooters, and show up around 5:00. Guys already have some beer waiting for me when I get there. Beer after beer, pitcher after pitcher just showing these older guys up. They honestly can't believe how much I can put away. The whole time, the older guy (prolly 57) is hollering at the girls and making them come over and sit down, or clean off the table, or get us more beer or chicken wings. This is the guy that the Hooters girls hate themselves after they go home for working at Hooters.

Every other line out of his mouth is "Man, I would rip that apart if I got the chance. Both hands behind my back, up and down and back and forth." This is the kind of old man I want to be when I get to that age. Drinks his ass off and gets away with everything. Fuckin a. The best part about the night, tab comes to about $300 and this fucking guy picks up the whole thing. I drank a shit ton of beer and ate a shit ton of hotwings and other appetizers and it was all free.

Work is bullshit but the fucking guys there kick ass. I know Spokane will be like this when I get there, but how can I ever leave CA, especially when this shit happens to me all the time. I love this state. Fuck WA and its liberal, bitch, feminazi, governor. I hate liberals, maybe as much as I am mysoginistic. Goddamn fuckin Kerry lovers.

Mrs. Sheehan you can suck my balls you no war loving, troop hating, goddamn feminazi, bitch. Its people like you that make this world no good to live in. You want to bitch about the war so much, you go to fuckin Iraq and live there. See how the people were treated under Saddamn and then come back and tell me you don't love this country. Fuckin bitch. I'm out, I'm drunk at 8:30 and I love my country.

Sixty-nine.

(what the hell is this number shit at the end of the posts? I just hope I'm being trendy)

A Prayer to Start Us Off

As the season of drinking is almost among us, I think it is best if we begin with a prayer. Some may think its blasphemous but I say, "Who cares, I'm not Catholic".... ha-ha.

Our Lager,
Which art it barrels,
Hallowed be thy drink.
Thy will be drunk (I will be drunk),
At home as I am in the tavern.

Give us this day our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillages,
As we forgive those who spill against us,
And lead us not into incarceration,
But deliver us from hangovers.

For thine is the beer,
The bitter and the lager,
Forever and ever,
Barmen.

May the beer continue to freely flow and the parties never to end.

Martha.

I want you all the remember this one undeniable fact: Simple Green is your fucking god.

I'm 3 hours into cleaning the kitchen. I'm wiping EVERYTHING down with Simple Green and a sponge. It already looks like an entirely different room, and I'm about halfway done. All those marks and stains we thought were permanent? Yeah, Simple Green takes care of them. Mold. Fungus. Grease. Sludge. None can compete with The Green. It has already transformed the upstairs bathroom.

Next is the bar. Booya.

One.

Important Life Questions

So I'm driving down the road to work listening to the radio because its the only thing that keeps me sane. I'm listening to this station that plays everything from 70's rock, to 80's pop, to 90's new wave pop rock and they play two certain songs back to back. Highway to Hell and Stairway to Heaven. Wierd. Anyway, I get to thinking at work (mainly because I usually stare at the wall and zone out for a few hours). Which is better, a stairway to heaven or a highway to hell? Let's weigh the pros and cons.

Stairway to Heaven:

Pros:
1) Takes you to heaven - good for all those Jebus believin' folk
2) "everything still turns to gold" - money is one of the key goals
3) "she's buying the stairway to heaven" - no money out of your own pocket, always a plus

Cons:
1) Its a stairway - no one likes to climb stairs if they don't have to and could you imagine how many goddamn stairs that would be?
2) "sometimes words have two meanings" - could end up not actually being a stairway to heaven. Then you've climbed all that way for no good reason. Not good at all.
3) "new day will dawn for those who stand long" - standing for long periods of time before you can even climb the stairway? Now thats just ridiculous

Highway to Hell

Pros:
1) Its a highway - you are driving the whole way. No need to walk. Great for the lazy at heart.
2) "no stop signs, speed limits" - straight shot the whole way and you can drive as fast or as drunk as you want. Sounds like a great trip to me.
3) "goin down party time and my friends are gonna be there too" - drive as fast as you want and when you are done you get to party with your friends. Are you sure this isn't heaven?

Cons:
1) Its hell - all that fire and brimstone might be enough to scare even the hardest partier off.
2) "season ticket on a one-way ride" - no coming back so you are stuck in hell. Sure its always a party but there is the eternal torment of you soul part too....
3) the weather - pretty damn hot in hell. I don't know about you but I like it air conditioned to a nice 72 degrees. The infinite firey hotness sounds too much like the Middle East. Roland????

So I guess its really a toss up. No clear winner here. I guess the best bet is to head down the highway to hell until you hit the exit for the stairway to heaven. Man, life's questions are tough.

Hat Off To You

I just wanted to drop a quick note of congratulations to Roland Haj.

Your people now have land! *throws confetti in air*

Ode to Povertyville

The comment about Povertyville brought up a lot of memories. So I decided "Why not remember them in an ode? I have nothing better to do at work." So, here it goes...

It was a regular night
Except no Bob to be found
'Cause the night before
He pulled his bed to the ground.

Another weekend night
When no one should think
'Cept about bitches and money
And how much to drink.

We didn't want to walk
'Cause the house was quite far
So instead we made Keanan
Drive there in his car.

The party was ending
With only one fear
We were very thirsty
And in need of more beer.

So Jaime we took
On this fateful night
And without an ID
He bought us Key Light.

The beer was warm
And tasted quite wrong
So Jeff had an idea
To drink with the bong.

The beer bong was huge
And with the name of Vader
It fucked us up
But that shall come later.

Six beers poured in
To our knees we went
Sean couldn't open his valve
And the beer almost spent.

Drunk off my ass
So long I'd been wishin'
"Let's go to the house"
The one found on Mission.

I drank every cup
That Sean put in my face
A few shots of Jager
And I had to make haste.

All over the lawn
The drinks came up and about
Time to stumble to C/M
And pass the fuck out.

We finally made it
Only God knows how
Loud enough to wake Bob
All he could say was "Wow."

To the ground I fell
But before I could crash
Roland picked up my head
And held it over the trash.

In Povertyville I lay
Not the last time might I add
The best spot in the world
At least in Sean's pad.

How many nights I spent there
Who really knows?
Whenever alcohol was needed
To cure the college woes.

Drunk.

Brian: That was one crazy party. I am hung over.
Champ: I woke up on the floor of some Japanese family's living room, and they would NOT stop screaming!
Brick: I ate a big, red candle.

Apparently I hot tubbed last night. The chlorine summoned a vague recollection, my shorts being soaking wet offered a clue, but I don't really remember too much.

Damn you Everclear. You pretend to be my friend, then proceed to murder my wife and children, stab me in the throat, and leave me bleeding along Burnside.

One.

Ok Sean, Time to Come Clean

In lieu of Roland's last angry, drunk post, I think it is time that we all heard directly from you mouth THE story, true and unabridged. I know your story from what you told me online, but now I'm hearing a different story from Danni through Keanan.

God knows I would never believe a woman's word, especially over a man's, but too many inconsistencies in the story right now. We, the FAM, need to know exactly whats going on now and how it got there.

Your choice? Her force? You giving in? Her giving in? You asking for the relationship? Her asking for the relationship? It needs to be all cleared up. Once we get the real story, we can start to deal with the situation in a better, less angry Palestinian manner.

Official FAM Recognitions

Sean kind of stole my thunder as far as the whole FAM thing goes. We talked last night, interestingly enough the movie Made was brought up and it got me thinking: What defines us? Granted, we are not defineable; moreover, what movies/TV/music articulate we as a group in our existence?

TOP 3 of each:

Movies
1- Swingers
2- Made
3- TIE; Casino and Boondock Saints

TV
1- Sopranos
2- Everday Italian
3- Growing Up Gotti

Music
1-Snoop Dogg, Gin and Juice
2- Garth Brooks, Beer Run
3- Starland Vocal Band, Afternoon Delight
Honorable Mention- Toby Keith, Whiskey Girl

How accurate is this?

You want a wierd fucking night....?

So I've had plenty of fucking strange nights (ie passing out outside the gym because of lights/walking in the middle of sharp on the way home/drinking monoply (goddamn Duffy I know you cheated me), but this definitely takes top honors.

So to begin the story.... I was taking a trip down Memory Lane (not like metaphorically speaking but the actuall road was called Memory Lane) and guess what song comes on the goddamn radio. Fuckin Long December. So I am on Memory lane (real street Duffy check with you sister because it is down around her) and fuckin Long December comes on. Wierdest fuckin deal because the only thing I can think about is Jeff and Jaime and Roland and Sean and Me holding arms in a goddamn circle and singing the goddamn song at that one house that used to be bomb but now sucks balls (somewhere on Augusta maybe?). But thats not the wierdest part.

Earlier in the day I had to call a patient whose name was fuckin Pierre. And when I called the girl who answered sounded exactly like Mikey's ex. Wierdest shit, she sounds like Michelle and she's living with a Pierre. Jesus H Christ.

Long story short, I end up in fucking Huntington Beach, playing chandeliers, drinking with the kid that took the silver medal in the Street Skate of the recent Los Angeles X-games. Wow, Jesus H Christ. And I still had time to mack on some chick (no Keanan = relief) and still be able to crash no problem. God, I LOVE AMERICA. Best country in the world, Then for some God unknown reason, I met some chick that was from France and spoke to her in French for a while. Best night of my life? If not, its very, very close....


PS. Thank you for being awake when I called Duffy. Talking with you really turned my night for the better......FAG. Anyway. Off to crash. To the FAM, may every night be as good as mine and may our stories and lives live forever. Vive La FAM et La PIT!!!!

Daisies

I was thinking very emotionally this morning while in the shower. If I could be any Crayola crayon in the 96 crayon box set, I would be razzmatazz.

That is all.

Eh, who needs them anyway?

All this talk of girlfriends and whatnot has made me begun to wonder, who cares? The way I see it, girlfriends are just another outlet for the money out of your pocket with very little usefullness in return. I know, I know, "I did it all for the nookie" they say. Who cares? If you drink enough liquor at night, you won't even remember that you were looking for a girl earlier in the the night. Besides, booze brings nothing but fun and happiness. Women just lead to anger and remorse and who wants that? No one, thats who.

Besides, what ever happened to captain asshole and "keep 'em disappointed"? This was always the status quo when it came to women. Now it seems that you guys are letting down your guards and actually starting to care. It hurts to see that happen.

But I digress, when it comes to Renee, this is acceptable for two reasons:

1) It pisses off Roland (everyones goal)

2) Its Renee (she bakes pies for godsakes!)

But its all jokes for now, at least for another 4 years, right Roland? If only Sue Lamb was younger....

Cookies.

What if marsupials actually evolved from dinosaurs? Would it be possible to find a man eating kangaroo who was capable of running in excess of 45 mph?

Speaking of Berg

Oh man, I can still see the look on Berg's face as he stormed into Duffy and mine's room after he found the ball shards on his bed. Angry as hell and holding at least 5 different knives in his hand, he made a B-line straight for Duffy's bed and stabbed what he thought to be Duffy's ball with all his might. Then he stormed back out of the room only to find out that he had just destroyed the only thing that made him happy. HAHAHAHA. I will never forget that night.

Come to think of it. What will life without Berg be like now that he's not a part of our house and what will the benefits be? Sure, we'll see him at parties and such, but we won't be dirrectly living with him. Let's make a list...

1) No snoring (Bob will get sleep)

2) The total smell of the house will be much lower (we will be able to accurately identify any smells and get rid of them quickly now/our febreeze bills will be lower)

3) Our frozen food supply will not diminish in a matter of hours after coming back from Costco/Safeway (Bob won't have to threaten someone for eating his taquitos and Duffy will have more than just Chili and otter pops for meals)

4) The amount of dirty dishes and the time frame in which they are washed will be much smaller (Berg could cook, I'll give him that; but the last thing on his mind was cleaning the goddamn dishes he used)

5) We will be without a person living in the house that can not be moved at all if found passed out in the hallway (the amount of booze he drank was great, but not being able to move him with Bob and four guys my size = pure disbelief)

6) We won't have someone threatening to sit on us whenever we make fun of them (how is the only comeback you have to a joke is to sit on someone?)

7) NO MORE HEARING ABOUT BOISE ST OR HIS GODDAMN GRADES (pretty self-explanatory)

There's is probrably a lot more, but I haved typed alot and I don't really care to type much more. The only problem is who becomes the big dumb animal in the house now? 1...2....3... NOT IT! (touches nose)

Drama

Drama... is like Ritz crackers. JUST EAT YOUR DAMN CRACKERS AND SHUT THE HELL UP!

I feel like I'm in the middle of the Berg's Ball incident again.

Setting the record straight...

I'd like to officially call shenanigans on Ro's claim of cock-blockery. Next time we're together, I'll call "Page" and ask her directly: "Whom were you trying to get with that night?" To which I'm willing to bet every penny I own that she will say: "I had a thing for Keanan." I fucking slept with her in the same bed that night, so the fact nothing happened within that is a completely different story, but regardless, if she were to say anything besides that, I will pay out all $800 dollars or so to everyone of you guys. If anything Ro, I saved you the disappointment later on.

Let me go over this again...

I thought Bob cockblocked me the night before Ro's party, but I sensibly realized, it doesn't matter that I was there spitting game first, if the chick wasn't into my shit, too fucking bad. She obviously was into Bob's game (before she fell down the stairs) and that's not Bob's fault for someone not being into my shit, I would've done the same exact thing if the shoe was on my foot. Same situation Ro, only from the very beginning I knew if anyone were to get anything that night from "Page" it was me. Sorry to burst your bubble.

After Ro's shenanigans of a cock-block claim and O's situation, there is NOTHING that has ever happened that could be construed as cock-blockery. The reason Sean drew the "no cock-block" on my arm was because I was still pissing and moaning about the night before and I knew I didn't want to do the same thing. Turns out, later that night I did commit the only time I've ever cock-blocked. You guys got nothing else on me.

Roland is A Tool

Roland, you suck at this blog thing more than Jenna Jameson sucks my cock. You are way too deep in your posts. Would you just call Keanan an asshole and let it be? None of this metaphor shit.

We all love Charlie for different reasons. I turned him into an alcoholic and I'm as proud as can be at that fact. Who else would have thought that a Catholic born in a Mormon stronghold could become the hardest man in Utah? No one, thats who. That's why I take such pride in Charlie's alcoholism. At least now he is having a good time.

As for us writing as much as we do, fuck you. You are just mad because we aren't the great literary authors that Charles Dickens is. Great Expectations was probrably the greatest story ever written. You just can't realize it because you didn't understand it (goddamn asshole).

Last point, fuck you I'm drunk. I don't care what any of those other goddamn assholes comment on our posts. Fuck them all. They are just goddamn spammers who want our money. Just like the goddamn females exept they want money without even offering the common courtesy of sucking our dicks first (goddamn feminazis).

So to end this post, Roland can't blog yet, Keanan is a cock-blocking asshole, Sean is a drunk (God bless him), Bob went to Canadia (lucky asshole), Duffy will always be a minority, and Owen doesnt even know what is going on here yet.

So in conclusion,

Screw you guys, I'm going home.

Cock Blocking (For Keanan's Benefit)

By definition from the great online urban dictionary:

cock blocking - A dangerous impedement to getting pussy which can rear it's ugly head in many different forms and situations (it lists five but I'll only put one down because that is the one that Keanan should read).

1) The Lame Duck - When trying to get a slutty girl, a lame duck may be another individual who knows the slut's reputation, and is hanging around her, but is either bogged down in their efforts to spit game, or downright wasting her and your time by not getting any, but instead keeping the slut company.

Keanan, here is the plain and simple truth, you may not realize it but you are a cock blocker. I don't care if you have excuses coming out the wazhoo for your actions during parties, get-togethers, whatever. Its a fact that you cock block more than not. It doesn't matter who invited who to sit on whomevers lap. If O or any member of the fam is talking to a girl and clearly trying to spit game here are the guidelines for interruptions (feel free to add on if I forget any)

1) One of the fam is in trouble and needs assisstance right away (emergency/fat chick/fight/etc...)

2) The keg is tapped or we are out of liquor.

3) The cops show up.

4) The house is on fire (any other life threatening situation)

Otherwise, just go your way and look for some other slut to scam on. Or just go drink some more liquor and find someone whose not busy. There it is Keanan. Follow those simple rules and your cock blocking days will soon be over (hopefully...)

'Spect

Despite being reminiscent of the "good ol' days" when sleeping on pizza boxes and downing Listerine mixed drinks, it actually does bring a smile to my face to realize how far not only me, but all of us have come in the past 5 years or so. Think about it, most of us have been really close for that long. And the times we've had--good and bad--leave us with timeless stories that we'll continue to tell until we're all buried and gone. And as you know: we all have stories...

The Good Old Days

So I was watching an episode of All in the Family and I started thinking (not always a good idea when I've also been drinking), what ever happened to the good old days? I'm talking about the days when the man worked and the woman stayed at home, cleaned the house, made sure dinner was ready when the man got home, and popped out a kid every few years.

Nowadays, the world is overrun by liberal feminazis who want nothing more than to antagonize the rest of the world into believing that what they are arguing for is right. You know what I say to that? FUCK THAT. I believe we should go back to the times when a white male could be a racist, sexist bigot and not have to worry about the consequences.

God bless Archie Bunker and the life he lived. May his memory forever live on the in the minds of fed up males.