...on the little things

so the chairman was having a bad day. and he was telling the bastard about it when, low and behold, the 7-11 was open. the bastard is so happy.

—the bastard

jesus christ! will you get the hell out of the bastard's way you frikkin jerks?!

...or was it on road rules

okay kids, it's like this. you need to get out of the way. the bastard is hungry and you are in the way. no no no. you don't need to walk in side by side wall of death fashion you frikkin idiots! get out the way! so as a rule, i will do this two fold, do NOT walk side by side through a construction site, your are inconveniencing everyone by fucking moseying down 33rd keeping your collective fat asses in the bastard's way and secondly as according to uncle the jesus, "if your going to be in someone's way, the least you can do is speed up". thanks uncle the jesus. besides given the size of your collective asses, you COULD use to speed up a little.

awwwwww no. no no no no. you fucking jerks! why must you all walk into the same place i am. you know there is no reason why i have to play dodge em at a lunch counter. at the end of all things though, i think one third of the three fat asses made it to the sandwich counter 5 or 10 minutes after i did. now for step three. insert knife into idiot's neck. oh well, i think i hear my parole officer calling.

—the bastard

PS: hey fat lady with the ugly sandals who made eye contact with me and did nothing to stop the closing elevator door and i got in anyway much to your fat assed chagrin. go to hell. go to hell and get edema in your fat assed feet. thanks. love, the bastard.

...on the band

...or was it the hood?

Well tell me baby how does it feel
I know you like the roll of the limousine wheel

And they all get them out for
(they all get them out)
The boys in the band
(only for the boys in the band)
They scream and they shout for
(twist and scream and shout)
For the boys in the band
(only for the boys in the band)

so this is the magic of fucking myspace. it starts out like this. about 3 or 4 years ago, malibu lou, a guitarist i was in a band with aske dme to join so i could listen to his tunes. yes the bastard was in a band. three bands actually. four if you count the band i auditioned for, got hired and never came back to practice with before i started up with malibu. anyway, the myspace lays dormant for years and periodically, i log on, maintain and log off. then one day i get in touch with johnny long hair. long hair was a good friend of mine in high school who taped footage of the first two acts a played with and he sent me this awful clip of the bastard performing "anarchy in the uk", to which i laughed my ass off over, but either way, we became myspace friends. now, i'm well on my way to being friends with guys i was in a band with 20 years ago. god dam the bastard feels old. older than dirt. or at least older than 80's metal bands.

—the bastard

...on blackouts

...and i don't mean that effing album by the scorpions

listen to the chair leg of truth. it does not lie. what does it say?

it was a dark and stormy wednesday. well, it ain't quite dark or stormy yet but, it's getting there. however, it has come to the bastard's attention that the mta's website isn't terribly informative when there is a power outage. strangley enough, neither are the local news outlets. so long story short, it's sticky out, it's gonna rain and part of the bastard's commute is shrouded in blackoutedness. yay! i think, i'm going to lock myself in the k's office and sleep it off until tomorrow. sounds like good times for me. nay, it sounds like great times for me. keep your powder dry, jerks

—the bastard

...on sevens

...and elevens

dropped off the chairman after our last adventure with the 4 caterwauling politicos, and i drove past what will be the chairman and i's new mecca. the 7eleven. paper up on the windows. looks liek they gonna stock the shelves soon. gonna be opening soon. all they gotta do now is import some hooligans from eliot ave. it's gonna be sweet

—the bastard

where's jonny airplanes? special bonus 3 pack edition

...or on the old shell game

...or on the triangle trade

so the bastard was logging some time down at the croxley last night at the bequest of jonny airplanes. actually it was so we could have a pre birthday drink with the mofo but the mofo never calls me to make plans. i always hear about them third party like. like in this case. jonny airplanes calls the bastard and tells me that we're drinking with the mofo and so it goes.upon reaching the bar the mofo asks me if i've heard from jon. he was supposed to be here at eight.

"he told me to be here for nine. he got off work at eight"

"jesus, i have to work tomorrow" you see, the mofo gets up every day at 5:30 to go down to the tub that used to be a mass grave, that used to be the world trade center.

airplanes arrives and 1 drink in he informs me that i haven't been keeping up with my "where's jonny airplanes" feature that i started earlier this month and he was right. the bastard hasn't been keeping up with all things bastardly. so i called my work voicemail so that i could remind myself. jon asked if he could do the legwork. it goes as follows (along with handy diagram to follow):



"bastard, to set you up with the jonny airplanes catchup you already wrote that i was in virginia, then i flew to cleveland, you tracked it. then back to virginia, then to new york then back to virginia and now i'm back in new york. and by the time you write this shit, i will have gone back to virgina and then i'll be back in new york. then i'll fly back to virginia again and then i'll be back in new york again on the 21st. and there you have it."

"cold war kids, cold war kids, cold war kids, cold war kids and the brakes have a new album out but they're called brakesbrakesbrakes now", says the mofo

"so to clarify i was in virginia, then i flew to cleveland, then back to virginia, then to new york then back to virginia and now i'm back in new york. then, i will go back to virgina and then i'll be back in new york. then i'll fly back to virginia again and then i'll be back in new york again on the 21st. and there you have it."

there you have it indeed.

—the bastard

slog

lemme axe you a question.

have you ever had one of those nights where you wake up like you've been shot out of a cannon and you can't get back to sleep for at least two hours so when you finally do you wake up at the regular time feeling like you've been hit in the side of the head with a black jack?

yeah, me too. the bastard is trucked and i have the devil's work dogging my heels. it's gonna be a busy day shiteyes. busy day indeed

—the bastard

...on the fhills

...or on local crap

so a few months back the local overpriced dry cleaner closed it's doors and construction started. one day the chairman, informed me that they were building a 7-11 over there. we think "sweet". now when it occurs to me, i can get my hands on corndogs and slurpees at 3am. actually, i was thinking that when i need a gallon of milk, i didn't have to go to the not so convenient store by my apartment that never has milk on a friday (there is no goddam reason the bastard has to buy a can of evaporated milk for his morning coffee). so i think good. the chairman on the other hand sees the obvious convenience of having a place he could float into in the middle of the night in his white suit riding in a carriage pulled by two sacks of money to buy late night whatnot. win/win, i say.

but the fhills says otherwise. according to another local (who alerted the chairman that we have our own adidas shoe named after our area, take that, team zissou, the community met with the local 7-11 owners who own another down the road a piece. locals bitched about 3am trucks and those omnipresent bored white kids (the chairman and i rate their graffiti as a 9.5 on the wackness scale) that haven't reached driving age and one commentor called for a boycott (to be fair there was only one commentor). and the bastard had a thought, "damn now you folks are gonna have to act like a neighborhood now, won't you?"

OK QUICK SIDEBAR: i mean look at this from the bastard's perspective, on my side of the ave, i have this annoying restaurant that keeps me from getting to bed. the locals don't boycott that place. no one in my area really likes the racket, or the smell of their garbage, or the landlady for that matter but it stays open. oh, i left out the garbage trucks that come at all hours, making a racket, stinking up the place. it's a necessary evil. someone has got to pick up the local business' trash. no matter how stinky it is. then we have the police. the police that does nothing about public nuisances in the area. in the case of my pet peeve, the owner of the restaurant bought them a horse and they not only turn a blind eye, they give him a placard so he can park illegally. he isn't a cop. why does he have cop perks? what the fuck? what the fucking fuck?

but the bastard digresses, yes that means that the neighborhood has to act like a neighborhood now. if you don't want the riff raff around, call the cops. if it's your kid, get in his/her business. if it's your neighbors kid, get in his business. when the bastard was young and kicking the dirt, i had a local father who knew my every move because he drove a cab in my hood. rather then rat me out to my dad, he would ask me why i was cutting school on such and such day, or why was i calling a cab at 4am or somesuch and yeah, it was a pain in the ass. but it kept me out of trouble. so i put it to you schmucks. if you don't like the riff raff, do something about the riff raff. do not squash local business, it's not like their going to replace it with a nice italian restaurant (like we need another one of those in the area). cause i not only call bullshit on boycotting the place, i'm gonna get me a frikkin' slurpee.

—the bastard

thorough

saw this sticker at dinosaur bar b que the other night. it's always nice to someone from the q borough is being thorough.

—the bastard

...on debt

well let's see. bought a laptop. bought a new car last week (the saturn was dying and the bastard needs reliable transportation). sooooo, 37 years and what do you get? another year older and deeper in debt. at least the car has AC. ribs for me later.

—the bastard

...on the gas face

so as the bastard mentioned before, the boy is spending the summer with me. so, he comes to work with me. he likes coming to work with me. allthough i have to say, he's starting to wonder why my coworkers like to write about how to kill animals. i'm going to have to work that one out later on. anyway, the mofo was meeting us to ride into queens to have dinner with the rents.

now here's the situation. you have a seven year old boy who has a brand new sony psp. he drops it as he sits down on the subway. on the bench. barely grazing this gentleman who then looks at this seven year old boy with such righteous indignation, such disdain, that it makes the bastard wonder, "what the hell?" i mean, he's a little boy and you're looking at him like, "hoo boy, you see, THIS is how the MAN is trying to get over me. ya see? here's the blond haired blue eyed devil dropping his shit on me, wreckin' mah tommy hills, making a nuisance of hisself. ya see, this is mah train"

ummmm... let me interupt you there a second pal, this ain't your train this is our train. get over yourself pal. get over your bling and your posturing and get over the fact that you're giving my son the gas face.

—the bastard

ummmm...

...who the hell in their right mind names their kid coco crisp? i mean, what the hell?

—the bastard

lowbrow

you know sometimes the bastard can't resist a lowbrow joke. especially when it's this lowbrow. there you have it.

—the bastard