Wednesday, May 23, 2007


In an email to my good buddy Wayne:
Last night at Phyllis' Musical Inn and after my horrific set I normally only hit two beers, but I had three and half a cup of water:

About 9:05 when comedians were still performing the bartender/bar owner turned off the Sox game which was in the bottom of the 8th to watch the Cubs game that just started, so I got pissed and stormed out instead of trying to plead my lone Sox status. Mind you I am buzzed and pissed as I walk down the street and I see a cop trying to get into someone's place for whatever reason, but I was thinking, "Oooooh somebody's getting a noise complaint" and I rounded the corner and got into my car. Watching a car on the other side of the street pull out, I decide to flip a bitch to get back to Wood and I was a little pedal heavy when I did it and as I noticed there was no stop sign, I noticed a cop in the middle of the road with his hand out to make me stop. He stares at the front of my car and I'm thinking my license plate fell off or something. He comes to the driver's side window and asks for my license, but no insurance card and then asks me what my address is and I tell him and I'm still not knowing what I've done wrong here since my eyes have been on him since I almost ran him over. "I'm writing you a citation." and I said, 'For what? What did I do?" and he says, "Well, all the other cars on this street are going one way and you are going the opposite (or something to that effect)" OH. Clearly I was in the wrong. Then I start to panic because I've had three beers and what if they make me take a breathalyser. Fuck. He took my license and told me to go to the police station at Augusta and Wood (about 2 blocks away) and wait for him there since he was on foot. But not to try to get away because he memorized my license plate and obviously because he has my license. Well, I am cussing at my self the whole 2 blocks to the station and I get in there and it was exactly what a police station looked like. Big counter, quite a few cops behind the counter and that typing noise that you always here when there are cop stations in tv or movies. Two female police officers approach me from behind the counter and ask how they can help me and I tell them that I am there to get a ticket for going the wrong way on a one way. They were like, "Are you here to post bond on your license?" and I'm like what? How much is that? "$100, or it could be $75." Well, what if I don't have that?" I asked and they were saying that I could drive on the yellow ticket that is issued to me, but if I get pulled while driving with that, I could get another ticket. So, the anxiety is just brewing and I am doing my fucking damndest not to be a little bitch and cry. Finally, the cop that sent me there strolls in and the whole place stirs and they were all congratulating him for getting me while he was on foot. Whatever. Not helping. So he goes behind the counter, approaches me with a yellow piece of paper wrapped around my license and says, "You did two things right. One, you stopped for me and didn't take off and two, you came to the police station and also, I don't feel like going to my locker in the basement to get my book to write you a ticket. " To which a fellow pig says, "Flores, your book's right here." And Flores says, "Well you better go before I change my mind." So I beat it out of there, sat in my car outside the police station for about 10 mins and cried my eyes out. I was so fucking pissed about the douche bar owner changing the channel to the Cubs game that I almost got slapped with a boat load of problems if not hurting myself or someone else. I can totally understand people killing people and getting into fights.
Drinking leads to anger and violence. Who knew? I thought I would be a depressed drunk not an angry one. PLEASE DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE!!

Thursday, May 17, 2007


The word hippie growing up had negative connotations from both parents. I never realized how much of a fan of the environment I was until I had to think about the price of oil. For all the things I believe in, for everything that happens for a reason, and for the amazing things I've learned and peeps I've met, W and Dick are strapped to our stomachs like a suicide bomber's MacGyver. The best part are the people that were with them in the beginning and got swindled. That hurts and the douches in power should be reprimanded for the terrible danger they have led us into for 7 years. It makes me sick to my stomach. Shall we digress? Yes, we will.

Tree hugging/er has always been in my pile of non-PC sayings that I still frequently use with no offense intended by any means, but still there like fag, gay, and nigger. Of course this in a controlled environment in most cases, but still no malice and or bigotry. I would certainly not live in any city if I had problems with any other person including, but not limited to midgets in wheelchairs, vets on crutches missing an arm and a leg (another phrase I frequently use), people with hooks, you fucking name it and you can find most of anything in a city. I LOVE DIVERSITY!!!! I also love when people are conscious of things around them and take heed that if we protect the environment, keep religion as a private and personal situation, and be open minded, we might just be able to co-habitate without all the unnecessary killing. i am proud that I want peace in this world and I am proud that I care more about trees than the fucking asshole that just pulled out in front of me and then gave me the bird. Go environment!
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Monday, May 14, 2007

New Kitty? No just changing kitty litter thanks.

"8 Cats, one lived until he was 26 then died of heart attack" she said as I piled my items including a cat poop scoop on the counter. She asked if I was getting a new kitty and I started to explain that I just started using a new kitty litter that was biodegradable (Shweat Scoop), but I didn't even get to "litter" by the time she whipped out pics of all 8 of her cats. She was precious as her co-workers of a different ethnicity from her started looking at each other and rolling their eyes.

I would go into how I am super afraid of me becoming this woman, but we shall skip it as it won't be happening.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Bats in the Cave

For many years, decades, centuries, etc. people have been dealing with boogers in their noses. I was thinking about it today when the allergies I never had before I quit smoking cigarettes led me to constantly scratch my nose since 10am. Seriously all day. So annoying. I get a little complex about it because I don't want people to assume I'm looking for the coke I missed. So paranoid. I just kept sniffin' and rubbing even though I was completely aware that I just needed to pick it. Sometimes blowing doesn't help and sometimes the scratching the nose doesn't help and then you are forced to get to diggin'. An old friend that I've lost touch with and I used to call out, "Stevaay" when we needed one to check our booger situation. "Stevaay" was for Stevie Wonder. If we threw our heads back, side to side then said it, the other would know to look for boogers. It was a good system because virtually no one would get it or at least no one said anything.

A blog of boogers. They do freeze in the winter.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Night Mutha Fucking Crawlers

Literally. These are the nastiest fuckers ever. I've been dealing with this bitch for 4 and 1/2 hours. I usually catch them when near or on the ceiling. They are the creepiest of all insects that I've had the absolute displeasure of encountering. What's scary is that they are getting bigger as though the more I kill the more enraged they get and they are shooting up steroids to try to get to my size. If that happens, somebody has been spikin' my OJ. So I was gearing up to put some laundry away and as I finished dialing a longtime friend, Stephen, I looked up and in the corner was the biggest nightcrawler I'd ever seen. Gives me the heebs runnin' down my spine. Yeeeeessssh. The worst part is, it's not the right name. They look like they would be called something like that. I need to go to sleep, but I haven't cleaned up the mess yet. I am having massive issues about killing this bug, let alone how I tortured it for 3 hrs and then the last 1hr I've been devising a clean up plan. I pace a lot. I feel terrible for killing it and then having to clean it up right before I go to bed. Don't want it to be last image of the night.