i allowed some homeless babe to blow me
February 7, 2008
now, i absolutely love san francisco, even with all of the homeless people swarming around me like gnats. if only they were even more like gnats. gnats generally don’t smell like shit…
my unfortunate catholic upbringing has taught me to atleast try to be nice to everyone. this includes the homeless. i reserve judgement on others as a general rule as well. you just really never have any idea through what someone has been. ‘until you’ve walked in someone else’s shoes,’ as they say…
this certainly does not mean in any way, shape or form that i give change to panhandlers. in fact, i am much more likely to perform a rim-job on a homeless person than give them my spare change. that being said, on the ever so rare occasion that i do actually hand over change, it’s usually because that person is especially pathetic, like some dude with no legs and a hand growing out of his forehead, or something. hey, when i am alone i sometimes cry. i have feelings.
so anyway, i was walking towards home the other afternoon when this old babe with a walker stopped me and asked me for change so that she could procure a cup of coffee. a cup of coffee??? are you fucking kidding me??? i had to hand it to her though, she pretty much had the whole pathetic thing nailed down pat. she looked as though she had just been plucked from one of the many trailer parks in hell and dropped off in the middle of the tenderloin by a passing spaceship.
now, my normal reaction would be a simple “sorry,” or i’d flash a smile and just keep walking. it’s only when someone flags me down to ‘ask me a question,’ that i am ever rude. simply because the question is invariably “can you spare a dollar?” i mean, just stand there with a friggin’ cup like everybody else. don’t waste my time having me think that you’re asking me for directions or some shit.
so as a reflex action i muttered an “i’m sorry,” to the old trailer park babe. i walked maybe three more steps and then was hit with the realization of how much it must really suck to be her. yes, a few moments of clarity. i ended up not only giving her all my change but i also invited her back to my place for a few drinks. after an impromptu massage, i allowed her to blow me.
never, ever accuse me of not doing my part to help the homeless…
atleast i didn’t get towed
October 19, 2007
those goddamn crackheads. immediately following the emotional harranguing which accompanies having my testicles ripped from my body and then force-fed to me in family court, i was in desperation mode looking for a parking space. after 15 minutes of driving around i decided to go an extra block or two into the hairy armpit of san francisco, the tenderloin. i had places to be and people to see and was only going to be there AT THE MOST ten minutes. it was broad daylight. i’ll admit that i parked in what was probably the LEAST desirable spot EVER, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. atleast this is what i told myself as i parked my car in front of the soup kitchen line where literally 60 homeless people were hanging out, spilling into the street. i thought there’d be safety in numbers. i mean, crackheads don’t eat anyway so these were all of the non-crackhead homeless people, right?
wrong, well, atleast apparently. i’d like to think that only a crackhead would be so brazen as to slice the convertible top of my car in broad daylight on a busy street. i’d also like to think that only a crackhead would be stupid enough not to see the bright red, flashing light signifying that, indeed, this car does have an alarm and that, yes, it will make an extremely loud noise on this very busy street, in broad daylight.
i escaped relatively unscathed, except of course for the 8-inch gash in my roof. hey, that’s why they have insurance, right? i also now know my alarm is pretty kick-ass. i was already over it but then i saw the above picture of dave chapelle as a crackhead. he certainly is adept at satire.
do not trust this man
September 19, 2007
believe me when i say that i rarely watch television. really. i will turn it on sometimes when i work out and i turn it on occasionally as i eat. i honestly don’t remember the last time there was a show that i watched every week, religiously. the last may have been the first season of ‘the apprentice,’ which was four years ago. now that was pretty entertaining…
so now that my disclaimer is out of the way…i can’t pinpoint the actual night it occurred but somewhere along the way i happened to see the double feature of ‘brett michael’s rock of love’ and ‘the pick-up artist.’ for the uninitiated, these are both reality programs on vh1 and for my money it doesn’t get any better (only a slight exaggeration.) i have never been a particular fan of reality tv but these programs have successfully sucked me in. whoever is in charge of programming at vh1 has my demographic nailed down.
last night on ‘the pick-up artist’ i was privileged to view in real time one of the golden moments of television, certain to go down in the annals of history, or at the very least, a 30 second blurb on the e-channel’s ‘talk soup.’ ’mystery,’ the enigmatic host and the ‘ultimate’ saboteur at the art of picking up women (as pictured above) has led his motley crue of wannabees on a sojourn for truth, justice and pussy, which if you recall was the same noble mission which sir lancelot set out on during the days of camelot (what the fuck am i talking about?….)
there were three aspiring pick-up artists remaining at the start of last night’s episode and they had their work cut out for them. see, mystery had lead his disciples to club expose where <gasp> naked women were dancing!!!! strippers!!!! the mission was simple. get some and don’t pay for it. easy enough…yeah, right. what was amazing is that the one doufus actually ended up hooking-up with one of the girls from the club.
and that’s what’s cool. the stuff that mystery teaches actually works. obviously there are many applications for these skills, besides just in picking up women. they are the basis for a lot of what is taught in rapport-building and general sales techniques. i took a class in college which dealt with managing people which was essentially just another way of saying ‘how to get people to do what you want them to’ and it touched on a lot of non-verbal communication, etc. powerful stuff. just the fact that mystery can get ass while wearing those stupid fucking goggles speaks volumes…
