i quit drinking.

i am the great broken pecker.  and i always say i need to quit drinking.  but then i’d miss all this crazy shit that happens around me when i drink.  then i think to myself, look at all this crazy shit goes down when i’m drinking.  that’s why i need to quit.  it’s a vicious cycle.

so i know this cat though another cat who i know from out drinking.  the one cat’s a pretty cool dude.  but anyway, this other cat has been recently divorced and he’s not dealing too well with it and he wanted to have a guys night monday.  ya know, watch some playoff baseball, monday night football, play some cards, drink some beers.  ya know.

he’s been trying to get it together for a while so i say i’ll go.  says he’s got plenty of rooms so i’m welcome to crash.  no problem.  says he’s got some killer herb, which he does, so i’m obliged to stop and hang out for a while.

first thing this dude does is start pouring shots of irish whiskey down my throat.  but that’s not uncommon among my friends.  there’s a couple other dudes there and we end up getting into a card game.  i come out with 20 bucks and i’m done in the first four hands.  no biggie.  there’s a killer meat and cheese and cracker tray with olives.

i never knew how much i dug olives until last night actually.  but that’s got nothing to do with nothing.

it’s still pretty early in the evening but there’s no way i’m driving anywhere.  screw it.  so i start to pound my 18 pack of miller lite like it’s an 18 year old on spring break.

it’s during the poker game i start to get the feeling there’s a little something queer about our host.  he’s real anxious and is trying a little too hard to be the center of attention.  and he’s like really drunk so he’s being stupid and brash about it.  it’s just something a little unsettling about this cat to me at this point.

i don’t reckon i should be too surprised, this dude has given me the heebe jeebes before.  and i still went to his place to drink and smoke his fine, fine herb.  that’s why i’m the great broken pecker.

a little later as the card game has died down, this other cat shows up.  the one who i know this one dude though.  and this dude i just know from out drinking.  but he’s a good dude.  and i know he’ll be hooking me up with a lift.  that cat is cool like that.  the card playing dudes all head out and it’s just the three of us.

ol’ dude starts asking if anyone is getting sleepy.  and i’m like what the fuck?  are you asking me if i’m ready to go to your bedroom?

but no.  he’s breaking out the blow.

alright now.  i’m not gonna judge no one for no thing no ever.  i’m personally anti cocaine.  for a couple of reasons.  the first being my head feels like it’s filled with helium, my ears pop, i clench my jaw and i have nasal drippage for like two fucking weeks.  and second, people that do coke are assholes.  i don’t like them.  at all.  no thanks.  you can have your cocaine.  i’m gonna go home and smoke my bowl.  peace.

so me and this one cat are trying to make our exit and this dude is really adamant about us staying.  i mean, uncomfortably so.  it’s really like when you’re trying to convince a chick to stay over.  man, you just can’t be too careful.  you been drinking and i don’t want you to get a dui.  really, it’s no big deal.  just crash here.  i’ll set an alarm if you gotta go early.

it was uncomfortable.  i was uncomfortable leaving my car parked in his neighborhood.  but fuck it, i wasn’t staying in that dude’s house.  i’d wake up with his tee bag in my grill.  and i ain’t down for no coked up closet homo having his tee bag in my grill.

and that’s not even the best part of the night.  and it’s only funny because i got out safely and my car was in one piece this morning…

but when i got home, some people were locked in the upstairs bedroom.  apparently one of my brother’s ex wife’s idiot brothers was staying up there with his disproportionately young girlfriend.  i guess he’s working for my brother today or some shit.  it’s fucking shenanigan’s is what it is.  those people are all fucked up.

it looked to me like he picked up this young chick and needed a place to come drop the boom.  and she is a trashy little thing.  she’s actually still asleep in the bedroom upstairs.  and i’m pretty sure i could probably just go fuck her.  maybe i will in a minute.  let me finish my story.

so i roll on in the crib and these morons are on the other side of the door beating on it.  my brother is taking the door knob off.  and shit still won’t open up!  they end up taking the door off it’s hinges so ol’ girl can go pee.

that’s just fucking hilarious to me to come home and find some idiot has brought some trick over to shag real quick and got locked in the fucking bedroom and had to take the door off it’s hinges so the little trick can get out and pee in the middle of the night.

that’s why i quit drinking.

crazy dyke bitch.

Dang.  This place smells like someone’s been trying to smoke resin.  Probably because I’ve been trying to smoke resin.  I’m so out of weed it’s pathetic.  I’m also sitting here drinking skunky beer because my fucking fridge died and everything got warm.

The beer is still better than the chicken though.  That’s got my stomach a little upset.

So this crazy dyke bitch punched me in my fucking hand yesterday.

Over heard some server girls at my local, neighborhood bar and grill yesterday, they were complaining about one of the girls always being late and always having some serious reason.  This one girl says,…well with her four kids and her parole, she does have a lot going on.

I just thought that was funny.

But anyway, this crazy dyke bitch punched me in the back of my fucking hand yesterday and it’s been all goofy since.  Not like I don’t have full range of motion or anything like that.  It just feels fucking weird.  And my fingers have been feeling like they need to be popped, like right in the big knuckles.  Weird.

We wandered over from these cat’s house I only met a couple of times.  But they seem like good folk.  The husband anyway, the wife is a crazy bitch.  As I’ll illustrate thusly.

We’ll all hanging out, having a good time.  I played some guitar hero with a four year old…it’s all good.  Someone gets the bright idea to go to the bar.  And as long as someone else is buying, I’m down for that.  I’m a broke bitch.

Should I mention that we are partying with some lesbies?  And these are real lesbians.  Not the hot kind you see on tv and in the movies.  I’m talking serious dyke, flannel wearing, carpet munching bitches.  I swear to god this one bitch looks just like a fucking lumberjack with his hat on sideways.

But I’m the great broken pecker and I do not give a fuck.  So I’ll party.  And we’re all having a good time until this crazy dyke bitch decides to grab some idiot redneck’s ball sack.

What a crazy dyke bitch is doing grabbing an idiot redneck’s ball sack is beyond me.  But she did.  And idiot redneck takes exception to being grabbed in the nut sack by a crazy dyke bitch looks like a lumberjack with his hat on sideways.

That’s when shit started to escalate.  I did not witness the crotchal area violation, but I witnessed it repercussions.  First hand.

I mean, it’s all a little fuzzy, but this bitch was pissed and just wouldn’t calm the fuck down.  And these other little bitches wouldn’t let it die.  Crazy dyke bitch took a walk.  And me being the only man with this group of crazy dyke bitches, felt compelled to try and help, or whatever.  Plus they were all crying my name like they expected me to do something.  I should have gone back inside the bar and got ol’ dude to buy me another beer is that the fuck I should have done.  but no.  in the back of my mind somewhere is the thought maybe I’ll see this chicks make out at some point.  And by now I of course have the eye of the whoremonger and the light pole might get me going if she looks at me right.

But anyway, I follow this crazy dyke bitch across the road.  Through a gas station parking lot some cops are buying coffee at or some shit.  Their car is right fucking there I notice as I follow this crazy dyke bitch across the road.  And when I get over there, I can’t find her.  But there’s no where to go.  Unless she jumped in the dumpster.  And if she jumped in the dumpster, she can fucking stay in the dumpster.  My job is done here.

So I walk as straight as I can back across the street, through the cop infested parking lot, and attempt to make my way back into the bar where I should have been the whole time.  But these other crazy dyke bitches stop me.  Two of them are married but I suspect them of being lizzies, and one of them is the chick this crazy dyke bitch has been boning.  Or, well, not really boning I suppose…but you know what I mean.

So back across the street I go.  And I really don’t know what’s going on, but we find the crazy dyke bitch.  She’s climbed out of the dumpster I suppose and she’s just chillin’ on the other side of the street.  But is angered at my approaching.  Because I’m a man I suppose.  Whatever.

So I reserve myself to the curb and sit and watch the traffic.  Pondering my lot in life and why I continue to make poor decision after poor decision.  I should be sitting in a bar hitting on fat straight girls by now.

One ol’ girl comes and sits next to me and we begin to discuss the craziness of the evening when all of a sudden I feel like I’m being punched in the back of the head.  Because I’m being punched in the back of the head.  I put my hands over my head to protect myself from the lesbo fury being unleashed on my for no reason I could fathom when this bitch hauls off her haymaker and it gets me right on my first metacarpal.

That shit didn’t hurt right then, but damn brother, let me tell ya.  My hand is still kinda fucked up.  I shoulda drop kicked that fucking muff diving ho bag.

My friend’s wife got pushed down at some point during the evening.  Don’t know if that happened before or after I got clobbered.  It’s all kinda fuzzy, ya know.  I do remember one of the coolest mother fuckers I’ve ever met in my life breaking all red on this crazy dyke bitch.  Slamming her ass in the door of the car.

I only met this dude a couple times and would not think he would act up like that, but this bitch said something to him about being able to please his woman more than he could or something, because nigga broke all red and tried to slam this crazy dyke bitch up in the car door.

At that point I was just ready to go home.  I woulda let that crazy dyke bitch walk her ass on to jail.  ‘cause that’s where she woulda ended up if my buddy wasn’t such a goddamned woman hippie.  He called the fucking cops on her to get her to settle down.  I can’t believe the cops didn’t take someone to jail.  But she calmed right the fuck down when the cops rolled up.

My boy was the DD so he was sober.  Or he would have never called the police…I hope.  But anyway, all was good.  And we were all loaded safely in the car.  Me separated from the crazy, violent dyke bitches.  We were on the way home.  My buddy had selected the smooth jazz channel on the radio and put no talking resolution into effect in his car.  It was quit masterful the way he handled the situation.

He handles retard for a living.  And hey, really drunk dyke bitches really aren’t that different from retards after all.

But anyway, we are all set up in the car, ready to go, when my other boy.  Crazy little bitches hubby comes out and tries to pully crazy dyke bitch out of the car and fuck her up in the car door.

I almost spilled my beer.

I’m pretty sure crazy little wife bitch has eaten crazy dyke bitches pussy.  Or the other way around.  Probably both ways around.  And crazy dyke bitch spouted off some personal shit made ol’ dude hubby go about ape shit.  And I can’t really blame him.  I wanted to choke slam that bitch earlier.

It was little wife bitch keep the situation hot.  She just wouldn’t leave crazy dyke bitch alone.  She just kept at it.  Trying to talk to her when she didn’t want to be talked to.  Just let that crazy dyke bitch and that dumpster alone.  They ain’t hurting no body right now.  Just let them be.  But no.

Little crazy wife bitch did try to save my life I must say.  When crazy dyke bitch attacked me because she thought I was trying to make out with her chubby, not pretty dyke girlfriend sitting on my curb I told you about earlier, crazy little wife bitch straight tackled her ass.  It was kinda awesome to see this crazy little wife bitch all sprawled out on top of crazy dyke bitch.

Not worth getting rocked up side the head, but pretty cool.

It was nuts, man.  The two dyke bitches that were together were at each others throats on the ride home.  As you might imagine.  Regardless of the no talking directive issued by my retard wrestling, cop calling, sober driver.

I’d a said eat her pussy and shut the fuck up.  But I wasn’t allowed to talk.  I mean, that’s all she wanted anyway.

i bought weed off a dude hocking his band’s cd’s at a speedway.

and it was some pretty good shit.

brother’s sitting outside a speedway in which i walk as to purchase a six back of brew and he holla at me and say, yo man, you get a second on ya way out stop by and check out my band.

cool.

i proceed into the beer cave, letting the fresh, crisp cold beer air rush over me like a bowl of milk down madonna’s back in that one video.  ahhhhh, cold beer.

i step out with my beer and holla at my boy.  yo man, what’s up?

yeah man, i’m just trying to get the word out man.  this big long acronym i don’t even remember anymore was the name of the band.  something about not killing people,  i really can’t remember.

but  he says, we’re trying to do something positive for the community ya know?  we ask for 5 dollars but if you’re short we’ll work with ya.  as he places the cd in my hand.

he’s a good salesman.  but i really ain’t down for dropping five bones on this cat’s crappy rap cd.  so i says, alright man, i gotcha deuce.  and he says alright man, lemme get you one of these singles.

brother came prepared.  i gotsta get this cat on the street team.

as i turn to walk off he says, hey man, you lookin’ for any of that green?

as a matter of fact…

he takes a walk around the building, i stand by the cd’s.  he sells another cd and slips my my dime.  thank you very much.

i love the city.

do i have to put 15 year old camel toe in every title to get you sick bitches to read it?

yes.  apparently.

you ever meet that one girl that makes everything feel alright?  the girl that makes you remember who you are?  the one that makes you want to do better, to become a better person?  and you think she feels some of the same stuff you feel?  then she tells you that you will probably never date?

then she ask if you are coming to her party on friday?

she text me while she’s moving her shit into her and her boyfriends new apartment and i though how cute.  she’s thinking of me while she’s moving her shit into her and her boyfriends new apartment.  then i thought, wait, why the fuck is she texting me while she’s moving her shit into her and her boyfriends new apartment.  and i started to get a little angry.

i don’t want to be your best girlfriend, i told her.  i broke it down real simple.  i said, i want to be with you.  did you know that?  she said she did now.  but had an inkling before.  an inkling?

i really didn’t know what to say to that.  i’m not sure how i could have made it more clear.  but anyway, she goes on to say that we would probably never date.  and that just made no sense to me.  we get along wonderfully.  just like good girlfriends i guess.

so fuck that.

so i’m all depressed and calling into work today.  well, calling into my second job anyway.  just started yesterday.  what a great impression.  but fuck it.  i don’t have gas money to get there anyway.  that’s how fucking broke i am.  that’s why i had to get a second job in the first place.

and that’s probably why we would never date.  i can’t seem to take care of myself much less anyone else.

i’m going to try not to dwell on it.  i’m hurt right now and that’s just that.

oh, and in lighter  news, my fucking guitarist has been smoking crack daily now for who knows how long.  we tried to take him and drop him off at a rehab facility but he would not come.  i guess at least we got him to admit to smoking crack.  that’s a step i suppose.

this is the part where i shut down emotionally…

i done got myself a rash.

fucking hippie doctor at the prompt care says, it’s a rash.

thanks.

so i fork over 105 bucks for the prompt care visit and a shot in the ass a week ago and shit’s still red and itchy as fuck.

so i called up these two nice young ladies that invited me into their vaginas a couple of weeks ago.  not at the same time.  that would have been awesome.  but at different times.

i thought i was on a roll there for a second until i broke out in a red irritating fucking rash.  nice.

neither one of them says they are having any problems.  but then again, any skank slut that lets me fuck her just might lie to me about something like that…

so i go back to the prompt care with my irritating red fucking rash and say, um, it’s been a week and shit’s still here.  in fact, i think it’s gotten a little worse.  can you look at it again without sticking it in my ass?

still had to pay the office visit but this time i got a script for some pills.

love ya like a skinny girl.

talk about getting up in them fat rolls to finger that stank.  this is how skinny girls get touched girl.  you get on up to the gym and work on that shit, you might get this all the time.

but tonight i just gotta love ya.   love ya like a skinny girl.  girl you so big i feel like i’m practicing for a three way.  but tonight i just gotta love ya.  love ya like a skinny girl.

i had to give her an orgasm just so she’d leave me alone.

i’ve been just  a miserable person lately.  i blame the booze.  and the weed.  but mostly i blame overall poor decision making skills.

my life is a series of me pining for women i can’t have.  and i’ve decided that’s some bullshit.

of course i am somewhat of a man slut.  i have left the bar with ugly girls before simply to spite to two hot girls that had blown me off on previous nights.  that was probably a bad decision as well…

but whatever.   i’m a cold blooded booty assassin.

they say that any sex is good sex.  and for the most part they are right.  but damn it, sometimes why won’t they just leave.  it’s like, there.  are you happy.  no go away.

i mean, i’ve told this chick that number one, i have feelings for someone else.  two, she’s not my type.  and three, she’s just not any fun.  but she still wants to hang out.  and she does have a sweet little 25 year old pussy.  that is nice.  and some big ol’ titties.  and she seems to love putting my cock in her mouth.  so, ya know, what’s a brother supposed to do?

knock it off.  that’s what a brother is supposed to do.  then write a funk song about it.

love the one you’re with.

what a bunch of shit that is.  it’s nice to think that way, but i feel like shit when i try it.  meaning i have fallen in love with a girl i cannot have.  she lives at the apartment of a special forces army dude who is in iraq killing women and children.  he sends her his money and she takes care of it for him.  might as well be married with an arrangement like that.  and that seems to always be the woman i fall for.

and we have been getting pretty close lately.  going to the movies and cuddling up, holding hands even.  i’m just lucky we havn’t fucked yet.  because then i’d have a real hard time with it when her douchebag army bf comes home in two weeks.

it’s weird, but if i’m attracted to a girl and really like her, the love making part turns my whole insides upside down.  but if i’m not interested in a girl, or not attracted to a girl, i can fuck her and smack her on the ass on the way out and not think twice about it.

i’m fucked up, i know.

so we had the talk the other night.  the “are you still going to be my friend when my douchebag boyfriend that doesn’t appreciate me and treats me like shit gets home” talk.  i felt like i got dumped.  and i guess i kinda did.  she had become my best friend over the last few months he’s been out of town.  i mean fuck, i went to a protestant church service last sunday so i could see her play the piano.  and it was awesome.  i loved it.  not so much all the protestant crap, but just being there with her.

everywhere we go people think we are a couple.  because we act just like a couple.

but all that has to end.  and to try and get myself in the right frame of mind i called this chick up that loves my cock.  thinking maybe getting it on with another chick will help my get my mind right.  love the one you’re with, right?  bullshit.  i feel worse than ever.  not only do i feel like i’m cheating on the woman i really do like, but now i feel like i’m just using this sweet, dim little girl.  because i am just using that sweet, dim little girl.

but if that sweet, dim little girl was about 110 pounds instead of 150, i’m sure i wouldn’t feel near as guilty about it.  and now i feel guilty about being so goddamned vain.

this is why i am the great broken pecker.

what a worthless bitch.

that could be another title for the book.  because i am a truly worthless bitch.  i’ve been sitting here all day waiting on the tv guy to come fix the big ass tv that’s been doing nothing but collect dust for the last month.  he was supposed to be here by noon.  it is now 1:49.  he just called to say he’ll be there by 2:30.  great.

but i’ve got nothing else to do until then so i thought it would be a good idea to surf for some spank material on myspace.  so i did.  i love all those slutty little girls out there.  brings a smile to my heart.

oh well.  now that that’s done.  guess i’ll smoke some pot and play some video games…

i can’t win for losing.

so i was sitting around getting no pussy the other day when i decided if i can have my cock wrapped in 25 year old pussy, i probably aughta have my cock wrapped in 25 year old pussy.  so tonight, i decided to throw it to this little 25 year old who loves my cock.  and my cock loves her tight little 25 year old pussy.

and it’s okay.  i mean, it gets the job done.  i’m just not really interested in this girl for anything else other than having her 25 year old pussy wrapped around my cock.  and that’s a shame.  she’s really a sweet girl.  notice i dind’t say smoking hot girl.  and that’s her downfall.

no matter how i try to rationalize it, the reason i’m not interested in her is because she doesn’t turn me on physically.  i mean, sure, if she wants my cock i’ll give it to her now and again.  but that’s about as far as it’s gonna go.  i could say somehting like we just don’t like the same things, or have different interest, or my friends don’t like her, or she’s boring.  i could go on and on, but when it gets right down to it, if she were sexier, read thinner, then it would be on like donkey kong.

and that’s a terrible thing to say.  but they don’t call me the great broken pecker for nothing.  she’d be a hella catch at thirty pounds lighter.

but i decide to throw it to her tonight anyway.  i’m just kinda in the mood.  been jerking off the last couple of days like a fucking champ and thought i needed a little real pussy.  some nice, tight 25 year old pussy.

and wouldn’t ya know it, the one girl i would pass up pussy for calls me while i’m with her.  and i miss the call.  she drove forty five minutes out of her way to come see me.  and i didn’t take her call because i felt the need to get my rocks off.  which is a totally acceptable reason for blowing off a friend.  male or female if they are truly friends.  but i’m still left feeling like i let her down.  and that makes me sad.  and sick to my stomach that i’m so fucking shallow as to miss spending time with the girl i really do like to have some 25 year old pussy wrapped around my cock that i don’t really care about at all.

i am the great broken pecker.