Cooler than an Ex bitch...

Ehh yo, sometimes you gotta just say fuck it. Stop sticking your neck out and play some muuuufuckin' SCRABBLE.

You got lucky Steven. I swore that lojac was a landscaping related piece of equipment. Turns out is was a proper noun, which are not allowed.

Good show, 198 to 204.

ps. "If I don't got two balls and a middle finger to throw up/ I'm taking off both shoes and stickin' each middle toe up - fuck y'all." SS

Worst Best Week Ever

It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you...

Did I see you on the Worst Best Week Ever?
Not to be confused with the Best Worst Week Ever

It started on the 10th - Tending bar at Collingswood Grand Ballroom

Fuck-A-Tux

Slick Willy and I go back to '87.

I must say, William Holmes, Esq. and myself "get money money - basically..."

Best Week: 1
Worst Week:0

The 11th was uneventful as you can see by the lack of photographs gracing this very page

Football, gym, Wii, ehh.

PUSH

Since, my 9 to 5 revolves around staring at a box,

I make a feeble attempt to view as little as possible while at mi casa.

'Cept for Nip/Tuck Tuesdays.

Catch me at 10 on any given Tuesday lampin' with the roomies.

This was however, the last Tuesday I'd spend with a certain hotty from another land :(

Best Week: 1
Worst Week:2 (demoralizing)

Wed. the 13th brought a surprising upswing with the Jew Clause himself dropping off some tantalizing Sixers tickets. Seats had the mad visuals son.

Intermission rolls around: brews and a sub. I know to watch the calories need I end up "Fat Andy" again. But when in Rome - eat some meatballs and do some Roman shit. Like smoke opium or fight to the death.


Campos Deli @ The Wachovia Center.
After a mildly ardent argument, Keith and I decide on splitting the meatball sub.
Mostly because the hoagies looked stale, and the tomatoes looked like pussing scabs.







Transaction occurs - no qualms. But we need the sandwich cut.

This degenerate excuse for a minimum wage employee flips her grease filled pie-hole and tells us to cut the sandwich our selves?

What the fuck.

Keith jumps in a phone booth to turn into Knife, but luckily I snag him to go catch the third quarter before he skins her.









Cheer up whipper snapper, it's only a game.










Stadium serfs should be indentured servants. Or at least act like you give a shit. Fucking clownshoes.

Wed. game was dope, despite repugnant service. One for the Best.

Best Week: 2
Worst Week:2

Enter: Thursday, Dec. 14th 2007

Took the day off to bid my dime piece bon voyage.
I'm omitting pics cause I can't get clearance from over sees.

Let's just put it this way: I was sadder than the fat kid who was picked last at kickball because his ass is wide. And that's pretty fucking sad. The day gets worse.


I got a crispy new T-Shirt and I'm brandishing it to hit the town.


I'm trying to drown in a bottle of Macallan 12 and forget my name for a hot minute.

Then my rib injury from the Black&White Flashback starts flaring - I'm talking judo side-kick to the scrotum type pain.

So sexy Rachel gives me the chauffer treatment to ER.
This is no joke, I'm not breathing well.

4 hours, 2 x-rays and ZERO drugs later. They give me Motrin and tell me to breath into this fucking thing 10 times a day.

WHAT IN GOD's NAME IS THIS THING? WHERE's MY PERCOCET?

I finally get home to notice I'm missing an ill virtual jam session.

...and party ev-er-ee-day

Justin's looking pretty huge. No wonder why he touches a playmate.

It may look tame, but when Stevie Ray Blake is in the zone it looks more like this:

Thursday goes to the WORST. Double-shot.
Best Week: 2
Worst Week:4

Now might be a good time to get yourself a snack. This is a blog of epic proportions. I mean it's not The Stand, but a snack might be a good look.

Enter: Friday 14th of December 2007

Work was swell. JJ, Susan and myself took some holiday flics at the Omni Hotel. Pretty festive, but no ugly sweaters.


Then I flew off via Amtrak, to the NYCity. People give it a rest - Illadelph is it's bastard step child plain and simple.

Straight from Philly work to NYC work.





Chins up - hoes down.













What the hell is up with my eyes in that flic?

M-E-T-H-O-D Man-esque.

Fuckin' gangsta.

James being Gandolfini for the night.

After the tameness that is the company Xmas party. The madness ensued when I reunited with my brotherfromanothermother - Big T.

Things get nuts when the YO Fam is reunited.
Three brolic yoked homies in the city doing big things.
We party like rock stars.

No question.

But in this pic we look more like gangsta rap stars.

Where is Dre? I mean Gus?

Best gets the W.

Best Week: 3
Worst Week:4

Enter: December 15th, 2007 - Saturday

T and I amuse ourselves with water pipes and tales of women. While Billy & wifey put the NY City Waterworks out of business by setting the Guiness Book World Record for Longest Shower, or Quietest Sex.

Finally errbody is ready to go to brunch, at 2pm . We are off to Blockheads.Sad Illadelphians, we don't get to rejoice in the splendor that is all-you-can-drink mimosas. Teardrop.



We're seated and three seconds later, T is hitting on the waitress. I have never seen him do such a thing in public.



You can see her ass>
It's nice, she's French, hot and extremely uncomfortable.

Do you think maybe touching her hip with the fork did it?

Or maybe the gattling spray of intimate inquisitions did it?

Seriously though, you coulda had it T if you didn't start hittin on the hostess.

Then Taylor breaks into his half buzzed, half still drunk from Friday: "This is Why I'm a Pimp"

It goes on and on. But nobody really understands what the fuck he is talking about.

Yes at least YOU think it's a good story.

T you are a pimp cause you are 6'5", bi-racial & have insane game.
Ill give it to you, you DO WORK.

But that fucking story dun, had no rhyme or reason.

Brunch is over circa 4pm. Off to Mercury Bar to cause mass hysteria.

So the three dons post up, and I'm getting filled in on all the finger-cuffing that has been going on in my absence.
Then a victim comes to serve us. And I pretty much get the nudge that I'm next. Needless to say, said waitress didn't serve us anymore beverages.
She's aight, for the train.







I finally realize I gotta hurry back to the Illadelph for the concert.

Searchin' for a cab, T hollas at another bird.
He had as much luck gettin digits as I did catchin a taxi.
Zero.

So I hoof it 5 Avenues to Penn Station. Hop the 5:56 and I'm on my way back to the Delph.

Told you you should've gotten a snack.


"The kid Reef raw,on the streets I'm king cause/ Wil' the fuck out beat my chest like king kong
Is this thing on? I'm tryin to channel the youth/I rock the crown of caesar, and hannibal's boot
They call me animal tooth, use your bones as a back scratcher/
I'm allergic to dirt weed, and wack rappers..."

Lil' Danny is 22 and double fisting. Hov.

After a couple PBR's his vision is impaired. Or my camera phone needs a flashbulb.

Back at the crib...

It's Fireside Chat's with M Dot Raine.


He's not sober, let's not sugar coat it. We are fucking belligerent at this point.



I mean look at how fucking close to the flame he is?! It's wreckless, dun.





"You go the munchies, look at you junk food junkie..."


Dean used to be a cook, so I think he knows a few things about grating some muufuckin Gouda.

Uhhh, err, maybe he needs a refresher course.

Hella cheese-grating mania ensues. Consume mass quantities. My cupboard was bare. Which is good, cause I only eat leaves.

Julio and some other peeps roll up while we are loungin' on the couch.

Everybody asses out lickity split.

This is how I know I'm not in college anymore.

Cause if I was, I'd be assed out on Julio's couch. Whattup Beaver Terrace?

Chalk up 2 for the Best week.

Best gets the Double W.

Best Week: 5
Worst Week:4

Thanks for sharing my Worst Best week ever kids.
But it was the worst though - I'm a miss you sad girl.