Sunday, March 31, 2013

Where in the World is Wylie O' Rylie? Adventure #1...Act 1...Knoxville







I had left Washington D.C. at 11:30 am on a Sunday morning,  I was in need of adventure, and a fresh perspective on life.  I hoped on the "Mega-bus", and negotiated a $15 ticket to allow me to exodus our nation's miserable capitol, to depart toward...Knoxville, Tennessee.

I was in excellent spirits, despite my lack of "spirits", wine, or beer.  I sat in the front, to take in the Virginia countryside, the cradle of my childhood.

Our first pit-stop was at Virginia Tech, the our next layover was in Galax, Virginia.  The driver announced we had 30 minutes to rest.  That gave me 30 minutes, to usurp beer, bum cigarettes, and buy burgers.  I entered the gas station which was a-joined with a Burger King.

My first culture shock, was that all the employees here were white, a diametric reality to California, my home.  I approached the clerk at the gas station, who was laboring at glacial speed, a very plain Virginian woman.

"How ya do'in sur?"

"Quite well" I responded.  "Um..I'm in a hurry...where can I get some beer?"

"Well...I reckon ya cab get it up da street dere, at that gray gas station on the other side of the road."  She pointed.  "If your fixen ta drink dat is."  Her southern draw was beginning to amuse me.

"No"  I responded  "I'm just being a good Samaritan and buying for that group of 6th graders outside on their school field trip."

"Ya what naw?"  And with that, I made a B-line for the suggested gas station.  Seeing as my trip, would take several more hours, and I was on a travelers budget, the alcohol content counted in this case.  I selected two "Mike's Hard Lemonades"  and approached the clerk, who looked like Larry the Cable Guy, and was sporting a mullet.  Not the hideous 20"-80" mullet, but the more noble and fashionable 10"-90" mullet found prevalent in the L.A. glam rock bands, of the 1980's.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Tina the Trollop 2.89







It was as simple as that...no credit check, no deposit, no bullshit (save the bullshit that originated from within the apartment).  Between Juan's income, my income, and the outrageous income that Ming, our silly Chinese landlord demanded, it became clear that we needed a 3rd roommate.

I had a friend named Adam, who was from Indio California. To describe Adam would be like trying to describe an enigma wrapped in a riddle, with a meth pipe duck-taped to his mouth. Adam was a violent and angry drunk, who worked as a shady contractor by day, and a twacked out fisherman by night. Adam was always just an inch away from violating his parole, a classic example of recidivism. I had met Adam through the grape-vine somewhere in Dana Point, California. While smoking a joint on the lawn in front of his ex-girlfriend's cousins house, I had met Adam, who in turn, introduced me to his ex, who introduced me to her best friend Nickey, who introduced me to her mom...Katherine.

Katherine was an exotic Japanese M.I..L.F. (Mom Id like to Fuck). Katherine had a house in Capistrano Beach, California, where she lived as a “dry-drunk” with her boyfriend Jason. Jason was a quintessential example, of a heavy metal guitarist gone professional tele-thung... type clech. Jason looked like the “love child” of David Spade and Kevin Bacon.

So between the dry-drunk Katherine, her Hollywood gone homo boyfriend, Jason, and her slutty daughter Nickey (a hot little jewish princess with curves that gave her a plesently plump appearance) Adam my tweaker trailer trash friend, and myself...we had enough material to cover 93 different Jerry Springer episodes...oh yes...this will no doubt become very weird.

"Those dry-drunk fuck sticks, are a bunch of fat mouthed liars!!" exclaimed Adam, while he slammed back his 211 tall can...the one he just stole from the liquor store down the street, from our current location.

"How so dude?"  I asked

"Well...fuck they think they are all high power and good now that they don't drink and shit, yet...yet all they do is eat norco, smoke heroin, and shove xanex up each other's poop shoots!"  Adam exclaimed as he threw his 40oz accross the street, having it land in the streets on purpose, just so he could have the satisfaction of destroying something.

We walked back to Katherine's house, and slamed a few shots of tequila on the way.  Adam handed me a few somas...(which are skelital muscle rexlars) while I was finishing my shots.  Oh, this may end up turning into an ugly night (and as you shall discover, it really did!)