...on experience

saw this on saturday on my way east.

if this publishing thing doesn't pan out, the bastard can join their winning team.

the guy drove like experience wasn't a problem either.

goddam chucklehead

—the bastard

unaccomplished

the bastard doesn't know how it arrives here like this.

he was trying to top off the finishing touches on his Christmas shopping.

the thing of it is.

I live on the rock of manhattan and this is souch more nightmarish than a mall.

that's correct.

the bastard prefers the mall.

you know your obstacles in the mall.

your obstacles do not stop to take pictures of the goddam tree in Rockefeller center

your obstacles are not sitting with you in the car like they are in the bus and the train.

abandon ship bitches. mission unnaccomplished.

—the bastard

wednesday morning tragedy

this one comes from the chairman's travels on the long island railroad.

is it tragedy?


or is it majesty?


apparently, he had a bag full of these things and he just kept on eating. this just reminds me of the creepy fat lady who ate eggs in a playpen in the john waters film pink flamingos (eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs). and you thought all he did was do musicals.

—the bastard

...on shopping

what else ya gonna do when your saturday's already been shot to hell?


her: excuse me, do you know what's the price of these?

me: well THIS thing is $3.49.

her: i mean which is the better bargain?

me: well, i was going to get this but i bought a three pack of this in trader joe's 3 weeks ago and it was like 50 cents cheaper.

her: i'm sorry, do you work here?

me: nah i'm just some guy in an ugly t-shirt.

what were you expecting? high drama from the fucking target store? it's not like i was invited out for anything.

—the bastard

life's a beach...

...then you get a flat tire

so the bastard spent his saturday with his ladyfriend at long beach...unwinding. well it was intended to be unwinding. and the notion of taking our little fold up bikes was a capital idea. until on the fourth pass, my tired started to go flat.

well let me back up. i also seem to have the uncanny luck of parking as far away as possible most of the time, not intentionally but, it always seems to end up that way.


so i had to truck back to my car. well, first i had to find it. then give my ladyfriend back her bike and truck back to the car, where we got our beach stuff. and this worked out for us for most of the rest of the day until these characters showed up. the bastard took one look at these three clowns and their covertly/notso covertly covered 30 pack of budweiser and three cups from 7 lebben. my ladyfriend told me not to worry about it. one hour later after returning from the bathroom, my ladyfriend was in agreement with my earlier desire to skip out. "it wouldn't be so bad if they didn't start and finish every sentence with "pussy", she told me. then we were off. it seemed like we were escaping an episode of douchebag beach at just the right time.

nice and smooth

—the bastard

...on snapshots

so in a nutshell, the bastard went to a wedding on the north shore of long island with my ladyfriend. and the bastard almost got swept away (see the giancarlo giannini version, not the crap madonna version) across the greater peconic bay in a kayak,


we met up with the boy at the wedding, and then we took two ferrys across shelter island to avoid 90 minutes of driving (which i highly recommend to get from one shore to the other during the summer. crack open your wallet you cheap bastard and avoid pretencious dicks coming from the hamptons),


to get to montauk where we spent alot of time at the beach, and had alot of fun, and went to a lighthouse, and bought some comfortable shoes,


and saw some sights,


and then the boy's mother came to pick him up,


and then the boy went home,

and i couldn't be more unhappy. but now i'm back. so go to hell.

—the bastard

god is in the details

the chairman took yesterday off.

it didn't work out for him.

by the time the bastard got home from jury duty, he was miserable.

the solution was a trip to pf changs. and a walk around the mall.

yeah, it's not really chinese food bu, it tastes ok.

afterwards we saw these two walk into a shoe store and her t-shirt was gold.

you know, it isn't everyday that you see someone from the u.s. rib eating team in a shopping mall. the chairman laughed hard and all was well again. then he bought grand theft auto 4 for xbox. but i had told him that it's sights like this that makes me believe in god. that he would put something so hysterical in our path. enjoy your saturdays jerks.

—the bastard

...on the fall of the house of usher 6

...special wedding edition

the the one of the chairman's sister got married this weekend.

and we all went but we decided to go hunting as well.

the chair had told me that his mother's side of the family do their best to keep their very important guido roots held up on high.

and yesterday was no slouch, for the bastard spotted his prey before the ceremony even started.

QUICK SIDEBAR: one of the editors of killing stuff monthly had gone caribou hunting in alaska and had to be flown in by bush plane and he had remarked that as he flew over the valley, there were hundreds of caribou just hanging out in the valley in plain sight. the thought here was that one could really get jazzed because you knew that a kill would be inevitable.

and this was how the bastard felt as he was about to spend several hours near his target. i was so jazzed. the chairman was jazzed. hell, even the mofo(r.i.p.) was jazzed. fish in a barrel, it was.

this character was majestic. his formal wear decks complemented his awful matlock suit quite innappropriately.

but the chairman's family could not take credit for this for their only enyertainment value of the day was when my ladyfriend pointed out this large headed gentleman who had struggled to take his suit jacket off for close to 10 minutes after the ceremony. coincidentally, the chairman had pointed out his date's drunkeness to me later as i pointed out how she looked like she was wearing a red silk garbage bag as a dress.

but none could take the day away from our guido matlock. our hates were off to him as well as his date who either dressed him or had self control enough to not ask him, "are you sure you want to go out looking like that?" good for them. good for their bad taste. and most of all ,good for my disdain.

—the bastard

...cap chimes in

the chairman IM'd me today to inform me that his father, whom the bastard has referred to on more than one occasion as captain america, had a near death experience on the road that he wanted to share with us. why do we call him captain america? maybe because he drives a jeep. maybe because he loves neil young (come on, some one has to love him). maybe because he just loves america GOD DAMMIT! you got a problem with that? i know i don't. anyway cap got himself into a near fatal accident out on the tarmac of strong island. and he notified the chairman. who in turn notified me.

so, cap was out there minding his own business when some jackass was riding his ass. and then racing up the blindspot

well i'll let cap tell the tale.

Text: Tried to run me into a BUS racing in my blind spot gave me the finger old piece o F SHIT.

So narrowly avoiding certain doom, captain america, busts out the jammy and gets the photographic evidence for our viewing pleasure. and simultaneously, he delivers 4 wheeled justice on the highways and byways of sleepy strong island. godspeed captain america. god speed.

—the bastard