Monday, November 28, 2011
I know I use these pages to bitch about Friz a lot……
Well, let’s just go ahead and beat a dead horse, then, shall we?
Friz is one of those people who you simply can’t talk to until she’s had her first morning cup of coffee. She is just completely unresponsive until she’s had her caffeine fix. After all these years, that’s about the ONLY thing I have been able to figure out about her.
But I would STILL like to think that there are SOME things that might be able to shake her out of her morning coma….
Yesterday, I woke up all bleary-eyed and descended our stairs so I could take the devil-puppy outside for his morning poo-poo. As I’ve mentioned in the past, we have installed a 3 foot high fence that runs across the length of our house, and is currently the only thing that keeps the peace in our home between our puppy and our cat.
Now, we’ve had this pup for 2 months now, so I have learned to live with having to high vault over the fence in order to get into the kitchen. But yesterday, at 8A.M and with sleep still in my eyes, I didn’t quite make it. I got halfway over the gate, when I slipped and my hey-nanny-nanny came crashing down on the gate. It probably would have been quite funny, if not for the fact that it just fucking happened TO ME!
Anyway, I’m writhing in pain on the floor, waiting for the commotion I just made to bring Friz over to help me.
When I’m finally able to open my eyes and see through my tears, what do I spy with my little eye?
Friz, with her back still to me, sitting on her little breakfast swivel stool nonchalantly still sipping her morning coffee.
Without even turning around to look at me, I hear “You ok?”
Then she takes another swig of her coffee.
For FUCK’S SAKE, I could be jetting blood out of my jugular by the time she deems my life worthy enough to swivel 90 fucking degrees to see if I’m still alive or not!
I would SOOOO not do that to HER, if SHE was the one who happened to trip over the fence….
Unless of course, I was in the middle of a game of Call of Duty.
But that’s different. The fate of the Free World could be at stake!
War is Hell, man…..
Scrawled by Slyde at 11/28/2011 02:42:00 PM
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Thanks to Facebook, now I think I’m being stalked by a sexy assassin.
I logged in this morning, as I do EVERY morning, mostly to read the deluge of dirty and suggestive private messages that all the women of the world feel the incessant need to keep sending me.
So, as I’m scanning through the dozens of offers of obligation-free threesomes that I get every day, I happened to glance over in the corner of the screen to the “Friends You May Know” area….
You know what I’m talking about, right? In the upper right hand corner of the screen, Facebook will often show you a picture of some person with the tagline of something like “This is Suzy. 13 people you know are already friends with Suzy. Would YOU like to be friends with Suzy too?”
Most of the time I ignore these things, because quite honestly, I could give two shits about Suzy. If I haven’t friended Suzy by now, it most likely means that either I don’t know her, or she’s someone I haven’t seen in so long that I could give a flying fuck about her.
But sometimes, out of curiosity, I click on the link anyway, because I want to see which of my friends know Suzy. That’s how I can usually tell who the hell she is. For instance, if I click on Suzy and see that the 13 friends that know her are all friends from grade school, then I know that Suzy is someone that I went to school with who I have long since forgotten. You get the idea.
Anyway, TODAY’S “Suzy” message informed me that “4 friends know Suzy! Would you like to be friends with Suzy too?”. Looking to kill time during breakfast, I decided to see who knew Suzy.
This is where I got freaked out.
The friends I know who know Suzy are:
- Someone who I currently work with
- Someone who I worked with at my last job
- Someone who I worked with at my very FIRST job out of college
- A childhood friend I had when I was 8 years old.
NONE of those 4 people, as far as I know, know each other, but yet, EACH ONE OF THEM is friends with Suzy!
And yet, when I look at Suzy’s picture, I am quite sure that I have no fucking clue who the Hell Suzy is!
How is that possible?
Here is a chick who has been intersecting with people in my life for the past 40 years! I feel like she is the “Jenny” to my “Forrest Gump”.
Or worse, maybe she is a silent assassin, stealthily stalking me from the shadows for the past 4 decades, just waiting for her time to finally strike when I’ve let my guard down, infiltrating my circles of friends over the years with the sole intent of getting closer to me…..
Well, Suzy will have to wake up pretty early in the morning to pull one over on ME, dammit!
Do you hear me, Suzy! Now I’m on to your game, bitch!
Scrawled by Slyde at 11/16/2011 11:30:00 AM
Thursday, November 10, 2011
And to this day, when I think of things that have happened to me that give me the creeps, THIS is always the story that comes to my mind:
I was 6 years old in the Winter of 1975. Even though we had only been living on Long Island for a few years at that time, a common thing for my family to do was to go house hunting on the weekends. I don’t think we were really in the market to buy another house and move, but checking out other houses was something to do. Hey, it was 1975…. What hell were we SUPPOSED to be doing with our weekends….stare at my Pet Rock and Lava Lamp?
Anyway, it was a typical practice for my folks to check out the local newspaper, read of a house that was for sale, and then pack me in the car and head out to take a look at the place. Little 6 year old Slyde always thought of it as an adventure.
Except for ONE time.
We had pulled up to a house that my parents had read had recently come on the market. I remember my parents talking about being surprised how cheap the place was being sold for.
As we pulled in front of the house, I remember it being a large white house, right on the water, with 2 large windows overlooking the second floor. I remember seeing a gazebo in the backyard, right next to a dock that you could pull a boat up to.
On paper, it sounds like a great home, right?
But, until the day I die, I will remember the feeling I got when I first saw that house…..
It wasn’t excitement, or awe, or even childhood indifference….
It was fear.
Pure, unexplainable, pants-peeing fear.
I remember not being able to explain it to my mom. The house just felt…… wrong.
I got this bad vibe from every part of the house. The windows looked like evil eyes staring down at me. The gazebo looked wicked and dangerous. The quiet backyard looked like something bad was going to just pop out at any second.
I remember my father getting out to take a look around, while my mom and I stayed in the car, and I remember totally freaking out, screaming for my dad to come back inside.
In the end, my agitation got to be too much for my parents, and we ended up driving off, never having set foot inside that house.
It wasn’t until a few days later when I heard my mother talking to the real estate agent on the phone, that we learned that the house we had visited was the house that, only a few months prior, was the very home in which 23 year-old Ronald DeFeo, Jr. decided to wake up in the middle of the night and murder his entire family.
You might know the house by its more popular name……
The Amityville Horror.
Anyway, a few months later, the Lutz family famously lived there for 28 days, generating a half dozen films and making that place one of the most famous haunted houses in the world.
Now, were the Lutz’s nothing more than full-of-shit media hounds making up a story to get rich, or did they really spend 28 days in Hell in that house that, to this day, still stands not 10 miles from where I’m typing this?
I honestly don’t know, but I CAN say that here I sit, almost 4 decades later, still grateful as HELL that I never set foot in that house……
And as close as it is to where I live, I STILL have never gone back for another look……
Monday, November 07, 2011
Yeah, I know I’m totally phoning one in today, but someone just sent me this video and I can’t stop watching it.
The Rational, Mature part of me is appalled by the man’s behavior in this wedding video…..
But the Immature, Asshole part of me keeps giggling like a little schoolgirl at it.
No more preamble… just watch.
Seriously, what the fuck?
I keep watching this and re-watching this, trying to find whatever the hell the woman does that pushes this asshat from “Hey, let me spin you!”, to, “Hey, let me kill you!”
At this point I think I’ve watched this more than the Zupruder film and I still can’t tell what set this guy off.
Maybe she spun left when she was SUPPOSED to spin right?
Hey, if I practiced my winning dance move all week, only to have my partner not rehearse enough and ruin it, I’d be miffed, too!
Scrawled by Slyde at 11/07/2011 02:24:00 PM
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I like being scared. Or maybe I just enjoy putting on a disguise and being someone else.
Or it just might have something to do with the fact that I am inherently evil.
In any case, if you’re one of my old-time readers, you might remember that I make it a point to carve a pumpkin every year. I honestly don’t remember how I started doing this, but some time back when I was a teenager, one year I just decided to carve one, and I don’t think I’ve missed a Halloween since.
Now that I’ve got Mini-Me, I usually ask him what he wants me to carve. Then I sketch a few designs on some paper, and let him pick one. This year, this is what we came up with.
Speaking of Mini-Me…. this year he decided he wanted to be a werewolf, even though I TOLD him in the store again and again that he wouldn’t want to wear that heavy mask for more than 30 minutes.
I was wrong. After 15 minutes, I was wearing the mask AND holding the bag of candy. Meanwhile, he just ran from house to house, then ran back to me to dump his loot into the bag I was holding. Walking around wearing a mask and holding candy, I must have looked like the world’s hairiest pedophile.
Today is November 1st, which is the day AFTER Halloween, of course. It is ALSO the day which 9 years ago, changed my life forever for the better.
I talk about Mini-Me a lot on these pages. That’s because I have no doubt that my little bundle of energy is the reason that I was put here on this earth. He is my buddy, my helper, my little confidant, and the best friend that I will ever have.
Nine years ago today my life turned remarkably for the better, and if I have to put up with a puppy pissing on me once in a while to make him smile, then by God that’s what I’m gonna do.
In Jerry Maguire-Speak… he completes me.
Happy Birthday, Son.
Scrawled by Slyde at 11/01/2011 11:19:00 AM