fucking dave is gonna be my helper. that bitch ass.
anyways, he should be here 7 am tomorrow morning, and we're gonna go lickity split to downtown LA to meet robert as his nearby sign sale that is HIS FIRST GIG (shed a tear) and then to mine, where i will put dave to work, and get busy myself.
robert's new to the game so he has no tools. i'm basically GIVING him mine. im kinda annoyed by that but what the fuck, life's a bitch.
i'm also annoyed by having ten signwalkers in downtown LA. i mean, i shouldn't be annoyed because it's my job, as the viking pointed out to me on the phone... but yah! it's my job and i have every right to feel all "ugh" about it. even howard stern bitches about work, and his job is obviously cooler than mine. anyways, the point is that Downtown LA at rush hour is like a TOTAL STAND STILLLLLL.
well, not obviously, i mean, mine's cooler, i mean who's counting?! who cares?
im just gonna soak the last fleeting moments of my off time, and be high and happy.
feelings suck because they're wrong too, but you're entitled to feel how you want. even when it's wrong.
i feel fine. mebbe sleepy, but that's it.
comments are back because i derno why i got so hastey in taking em down.
i was prolly high.
it's JUST NOW not an itchy mess... JUST NOW, within the last few moments... it has gotten long enough to not itch.
so of coarse imma shave it... but shave it into what?!?! perv moustache? goatee? fu man chu? mutten chops?
or should i just shun political corrected-ness and rock the hitler stache?
nahh... i dont have enough jewish friends who'd be pissed off. everyone would think i was serious or some shit.
i have my holloween costume already designed and everything. i'd tell you what it is, but then the world will rip me off.
i have one day to find me a helper for the signs, i wonder who i should call... i think brooklynzoo, aka the artful lodger will get first crack at the opportunity. if he ever answers his phone, that is.
im going to smoke myself into a coma, night.
this is my answer to that.
called up robert on my way to the bank, told him to be at the carl's junior i like to meet him at, the one by vermont and artesia... and after some phone calls with dez and the viking about signs and signwalking, and my cameo at the bank, i was face to face with robert eating my bacon western cheeseburger combo.
we rapped about signs and the potential for another double sign gig this weekend. im making so much money, im starting to feel like scrooge mc duck swiming in my money bin.
anyways, i then proceeded to my uncles hosue whilst i was still in gardena, to drop off some signs, and only unloaded the signwalker signs.
then i bought this hat.
it was 6 dollars from the army surplus store.
then on my way home i was thinking about all the cash in my pocket... and how i have been wanting new board shorts. so i stopped at Spyder Surf.
they didn't have shit for my size. my waist is 34 inches, all they had was 28's and 336's... so i headed to ET surf. it's a way better store anwyays. the proof is the new board shorts...
then i realized how close i was to homeboys house who has the weed. i called him. and because of the redondo triangle, a notorious cell phone dead zone, we couldn't really communicate, but i just drove over, and he saw me pull up, and it was all good.
the house shook with dj shadow, and i was offered some medicinal crap homie scored from the weed clinic... i say said, "bang om em" and then he broke out the hashoil, and that's when i shit a brick.
so of coarse i got to try it... this shit is unreal.
im getting some tomorrow, wich means, i have to fetch my check from no ho first... that's fine tho... i'll wake up early/stay up all night and drive up eating a egg Mcmuffin listening to talk radio. my favorite.
it's a lot of money... it's worth the drive...
in fact my radio show is coming on, i have to smoke a million bong hits in preparation.
i haven't smoked the medicinal thru the 6 footer yet, i shake with fear and anxiety thinking about it.more people need to hit the sixer... wich i have since dubbed: "the gillotine" cuz it's choppin headz yo. perhaps i should be bringing it in my truck more places? yes, i agree, i should
tomorrow i also wanna hit up the emboroidery (sp?) place on teh pier. i wanna get a skull on my new cap, and maybe a word, if i can decide on one.
and i think im gonna get inked soon. yes tatted. ratta tat tatted. because fuck it... i've always wondered what it would feel like to get a full color piece that takes up my entire back.
im thinking the lady of guadalupe. and perhaps around my neck i can get "seek and destroy". and rockabilly cards and dice and such type tattoos filling up the sleaves i get on my arms. I CAN'T WAIT!
hey i got the signs to infect THIS blogger's life. we're doing something in AZ, so naturally i thought of him as someone who could catch the sign disease. he caught it, at least from now until Thurs he did.
right now howard stern just came on and is bitching about how his message board users talk ONLY about how terribly hideous he is, and how vile and disgusting the thought of him having sex with his girlfrien is.
well that's why message boards suck. it's all fun and games until there's the fag guy. not that HE's a fag... but all he will do, to anything anyone writes... is say, "ya? yer a fag!" wich isn't even creative, as a way to try and light fires under people's asses.
it's a known fact that all message boards degrade into that.
comments bit the dust for who knows how long. forever hopefully. but imma moody SOB, so until further notice... i want emails, not comments. antidis @ gmail
k, imma crash out now.
see... there was SIX of them to start off with, but the one with a car, the one who was the father of three of the other boys, the one who was obviously MENTAL, boned out in his car 10 minutes before i could get to him to PAY HIM... and thus leaving his buddies, and three kids, SRANDED on the corner of carson and paramount in Long Beach.
so i kept his money, i didn't think he deserved it at that point.
but the good news is that all those 5 mescans just made $50 a piece... so cab fare should be mellow.
we all have to be awake early izzle.
whitey and i figured out that the six footer is easier with every beer. apparantly at least with miller lite.
right now whitey and i are jamming to the snoop dow playing, and who can blame us?
the viking sleeps.
ive already gone skating, and bombed a few hills, and felt free from signs for a moment. my problem is i let work become my life, whatever the work is.
im just that way.
*status update: whitey is on his way to fetch weed and come over, and the viking is at the 405 and the 101*
anyways, i have given a lot of myself to the signs in the last (almost) three years that ive been a sign guy. my blood sweat and tears. mostly blood and sweat.
signs used to just be my second job, and i was "really" a full time real estate appraiser that worked from home and had and office that was head quartered in Long Beach. frank was the cheif appraiser, a real nice old coot i wanna stop and say hi to sometime, and the point is, i worked like an ox on uppers back then... literally burning the candle at both ends, and well... jobbing, and maknig dinero... it's my life. (sad, i kno, but i durn kurrr)
i LOVE what i do even when i hate it, and i have to admit... i like working. i like being at work. and i love being good at it...
i was gonna keep typing until my friends got here, to keep me busy, but now i feel like leaning back in my desk chair and smoking a cigarette listening to the STRICTLY PURE DUB radio station on my itunes...
raise your mai tai to the sky, and shout, "irie mon"
i have two jobs this weekend, right? one in LB and one in south central. well, suddenly i have to find two signwalkers because someone missed their ride from buena park or some shit like that... so the viking tells me he knows of a place on paramount blvd that has border brothers who hang out trying to score a job.
well after asking (axing) all thirty of them, we found out that they would do it if they got paied 10 dollars an hour instead of $8, and... really... it didnt matter what we paid them, because they didn't believe we would really come back and fork over the cash like we said we would.
frustrating. especially when time is of the essence, and im STILL two people short.
i mention to robert, "this is what REAL sign jobbing is all about." he laughed.
i ended up finding a black dude, who knew of two OTHER black dudes, and was willing to tell me where they were, if i gave him 5 cigarettes... and that's how we met Speedy and Washington, and no these arent names we made up, they introduced themselves that way.
speedy did all the talking, and told robert and i how he is a rapper, and how its a blessing that we found him so he can get a motel, and get cleaned up, and do some rap shows.
after he got out of the car, robert said, "mannnn, he ain't no rapper, and he's not gonna spend his money on no mo-mo. that fool's a CRACKhead!"
i replied, "duh."
anyways, next thing you know, i find out that my signs for south central not only aren't on their way, they haven't even been printed yet. and yes, our current printshop is in temecula, meaning that with friday afternoon traffic... basically... im FUCKED.
i end up hammering out the rest of my LB street signs around the town, and head over to south central hoping that my boys bringing me my signs from temecula make it there with enough time to allow me to handle the job, and get BACK to Long Beach to cut loose the 8 signwalkers i had.
well danny and ceaser, the dudes coming from temecual, didn't make it on time. and i had to bone out leaving THEM to handle the front of the dealership whilst i stay in gridlock traffic trying to get to my walkers in time.
NOWWWWWW... i have to wake up at the BUTT cracky crizzle of dawn to do... SIGNS.
the reason i make a small fortune every weekend, is because my job is NEVER done.
now will someone PLEASE come over and light the other end of this ridiculuosly long water pipe? thx
ME and my new friend.
big tanky get burly on it.
dez even joined in.
YES THIS IS A SHIT EATING GRIN
NO I CANNOT WIPE IT OFF MY FACE
and yes my teeth are yellower than a golden nugget.
so yah, that's the orange show pavillion across the street, and thats me waiting for robert's wife to show up on her spot, so she can take the sign, and get to work. our signwalking signs used to only have a large sign on the botton, and a smaller one on top, until my drunk ass told the viking that i thought we should change it up, and go with the double large.
now i think every signwalker hates me for it. le sigh.
isn't it the shit how the signwalker sticks act like a spoiler for my truck? i double dog dare any one of those suped up honda warriors to challenge my ass to a race. sign technology is in full effect yall, bang on em.
and fuck man it's bright outside. i want to go swimming in my poolio so bad. i wish i wanst a busy-billy all day with signs up the wahzoo tio worry and stress out about.
thank god i got new weed in time!
oh yah, i have been meaning to tell the blog about my vegas trip.
so it was whitey's idea, and he was amped, and got my and spike on board for the mission, and within two hours of being home from work i was headed east bound on the 91 in my truck with my boys screaming, "VAYYYYYY GASSSSSSSSSS BAYYYYY BEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" the whole time.
whitey immediately changed his tune, and started freaking out about how he has officially hit rock bottom, because he was going to gamble every last dollar he had, in hopes of making money. spike and i just wanted to party.
when we got to town at the stroke of midnight... we were trying to decide where to go first when whitey starts bitching how he needs to gamble NOWWWWWWW and that ANYWHERE is as good as anywhere, i was on Las Vegas Bl and Tropicanna Ave... so i turned into the bally's parking lot, and we entered the casino asap.
spike and i tried to find some booze before we got to it, and white just took off in his own direction.
so after about 20 minutes of spike and i killing it at the $10 blackjack table (we each were up at that point) whitey comes over to annouce that he has just lost over $100 on slot machines. HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH
he was getting upset, and chris and i just started losing our luck, so we decided to head to the hard rock casino... that's where all the young people go anyways, you don't go Ballys unles you're over 65. i think its a rule.
did i mention this was the most dead night in vegas ever? well at the hard rock whitey loses another $150 on the roulette tables, and spike nearly double's his money. i kinda sorta gambled here and there. i lost. but only 50 bucks at that point.
fuck this, is what we decided, even though spike was getting hard cards from Jocey the nice dealer women. so we swung thru the bellagio, only to find it sucks, and headed back to the bally's self park to get to the car bong, and perhaps move the car down the strip south a bit... like luxor/mandalay bay-sih.
it was at mandalay bay that whitey convinced me that gambling sucks, and we got wasted instead. these two hottie hookers started talking to whitey, and got pretty annoyed when his naive ass tried to be their friend, hahaha, and after we got saucey enough, we rounded up our big winner spike, and headed to the house of blues...
at the HOB boys can get in free before 4am... it was 5:30am but we sweet talked the door man, who actually is that rapper named candy man. funny.
by the time we were leaving whitey was mooning and flashing everyone he could, and even trying to steal furniture... spike and i were keeping our distance so that we didnt get banned, and in the end... it was the best time. and exactly what i needed.
now me and whitey are gonna drive aroubnd and be busy dudes.
right now i need stilts to hold my eyelids open, im SOO ty-urd
back to sleeping, as ive been doing all day since i got back.
i told the signwalkers to mark this day on their calendars. they basically made $25 an hour for the two that they worked.
NOW FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS, i'l be on the move.
basically my vegas plans for this weekend went caput. now im waiting for guido and whitey to pick me up in the previa, and we're OUTTA HERE.
yes las vegas last minute mission.
we have no hotel or anthing like that., but im not worried about it. hotels are for wimps.
they haven't even had their first break yet!!!
i think im gonna go head back to the sale, and get to the bottom of this rumor THEY started about us all getting out of here early. all whitey wants is an ice cream cone from McDonald's.
it sucks when you have nothing better to do, and stuck in a town that has nothing better for you to do.
i mean we didnt even go into the stores when we cruised the mall this time. it was all the same people working in the stores, we felt mildly retarded.
here in the kinko's copies i can tell that this dude is trying to sell this kid on the amway scam shit. he just said, "yah sure i bet all yer friends and family will say it sounds like a scam, mine did too... until i made over 80,000 a year."
hah. i wanted to go over there and slap him for lying to that poor naive kid.
amroids man.... they be scurry.
ok im going commence the aging proccess of my lungs... and breath smoke for a while...
make me a noose with zip ties.
it's sposed to be hell wind centrale in san berdoo.
my breath smells like an open grave.
im going ot make whitey drive today "mua hahahah"
the promoter guys have sold 70+ cars, and now are too busy playing catch with a football than to give me the time of day. SWEET! they did mention something about letting off the walkers (and whitey and i) off early with full pay.
ummmmm ok? i never heard of THAT before, but i guess it means they want to go home early. but whatevs, we'll take the money.
this job has been mellow city, cept for the fact it's an hour away, and i HATE working mondays ALMOST as much as tuesdays. and lookit me, werking BOTH days. le sigh...
i haven't heard jack shit about work this weekend wich leads me to believe one of two thigns are true.
1. my cousin was able to work around the fact that i wanted to visit my friend sean in Las Vegas this weekend.
2. my cousin has not yet told me about the job i have in egypt with 20,000 signwalkers.
(please be #1, please be #1)
im headed to east west bank before work to refill my cash supply. fund tappage has been at an alltime high lately. when i bought the new vans today i threw out my globes. they were beaten down and tired, although still comfortable. i just didn't want even the option of wearing those sleazy fucks ever again. i made whitey lean back while sitting shotgun, and i launched the old shoes into some dude's truck bed from the passenger side window.
when i was trying the shoes on in the Vans Store i thought the broad workign there was gonna pass out from the fumes. i guess not wearing socks half the time takes a toll after a year or so.
whitey and i found a three legged kitten too. it was by the south end of the dodge dealership right off of orange show road... and we got all these pics of it, but we used whitey's camera wich he later informed me has no cables, or way of uploading the pics, making me wonder why he even bothered taking pics. but that's whitey for ya.
ok jay leno's headlines just made me laugh. i didnt' laugh out loud, but i came fucking close! the in my head laugh was better than jay usually gets. i have not seen the TV clicker in a really really long time. bummer-rama.
GUTO FOR PRESIDENT!
fuck the tv, fuck reading anything anyone wrote, it's boring, noone knows how to self edit.
and i got $18 dollars left, as far as cash in my wallet goes, so yay i can cure this hunger ache my stomach is quivering from.
i hear someone honking outside. not for me though.
so yes im currently at a kinko's copies, so i gotta be fast.
i bought new shoes today. Vans.
and whitey got a new hat, but he already said the "stoke" off the buy is over.
now we have gatorade and a trillion cigarettes to smoke.
god bless the children, it's all about the children. and by children, i obviously mean signwalkers.
they were selling complete blank skateboards at the only skateshop in town for 69.99 and whitey almost went for it. he shouldah. he pussed out.
i think i sorta got a head ache, maybe now we'll cruise into target, so i can get my favorite medicine, advil gel caps. gel is the bomb.
here in kinko's there's some european guy on his pansy ass laptop making cell phone calls to various motels asking for room rates. san bernardino is an odd town.
wednesday is finally my day off, and i might be heading to vegas this weekend still...
oh the european just got a room for $45. im happy for him, i hope he shuts up his louder-than-NASCAR-engines-voice now. nope he's still dialing.
ok, i think we need to go like, buy a milkshake from jack in the crack, or perhaps an ice cream cone from weinersnichzel or however you spell that fucked up digusting restaurant's name.
im headed back to the car. the nicotine is calling my name.
that means whitey and i will have the time we need to get bong strong in the truck, and perhaps go walkabout in the mallio.
dez and mike both seemed a bit hungover from their sat'nite activities. whitey and i went our seperate ways last night, me going home, masterbating, and then to sleep.
whitey went to visit this girl he's been chasing for the last two years. i guess he almost closed the deal last night, but alas, like every other time for the last two years. nothing.
i asked dez if she thought san retardino was a better place to signwalk than adelanto, because it's obviously ten times less windy here. but i guess my suspicion was wrong, because she told me that the hot gargabe smelling air that the whole town reeks of is intolerable for her. bummer.
anyways, i think we're headed to chili's to eat a nice lunch and pat ourselves on the back for being the two most ass kicking sign guys of the weekend.
me and whitey keep forgetting my skateboard at home, wich sucks, that'd be nice about now.
we're on our way to the mall after this so whitey can check out the food court, and i can just tag along and stroll the mall with him.
i checked in at the car sale, they're SUPER pleased and are selling em like hotcakes. they had some lil project for me, because they don't know jack shit about signs and banners, and they got me to install a 20 foot banner that said "GIANT USED CAR SALE" and i intsalled it 15 feet in the air with only zip ties, sticks, and my spiderman self to get that shit up there.
tonight martin has a party. martin the filipino coconut. i really would rather not go, but i think my friends might try and convince me otherwise. i'd prefer getting tanked at my pad insuring i sleep like the dead.
ok now i am hungry like the wolf and whitey is talking shit about blogging, and it smells funny in this kinko's anyways.
bang on em... nephew.
so i cut my own hair cuz whitey told me it was no big deal, and my hats weren't fitting anymore, and supercuts scurrs me, and welp, im SUPER stoked
damn i feel like a chump for not always just cutting my own hair.
i like my shit sloppy and shaggy and slamma blammalicious. so it came out perfect.
whitey and me and big tanky are here with huge bonghits and miller Lite, and i cant wait to sign job in the morning!!!!! fuck yah foolios. san retardino, here we come.
hold on i gotta pound more beer...
ok so the topic is G. Love and SPecial sauce, we like those guys, consider them ENDORSED. unique and abilities too.
anyways im amped and a half that i cut my own hair, it was very awesome, and im pleased.
and i handled a lot of business on the phone today too.
see, robert was gonna work for me as my helper at first... but WHITEY called and said that his day job up in santa cruz came to a temporary hault due to a huge fire on teh property, and welp, he asked if he could be my helper. i like robert, but he's just some guy from buena park to me, whitey's da homie
the only thing is robert has no phone at the moment, so you gotta wait for robert to reach you, and we were hoping he wouldnt just show up at the sale, and not be able to call danny and get on the signwalker roster.
Dez called me up too. her and her boyfriend wanted IN, so i got danny on the horn, and told him i am bring two walkers of my own, and to make room on the roster.
then i found out that my signwalker payroll money is in north hollywood and i had to somehow have that in my hands before i leave for work tomorrow morning. EASY SOLUTION, called up whitey and told him to swimg by the viking's pad to pick up the dinero.
now all i gotta do is MAKE SURE whitey and i can score bud tonight, and we're set.
it was weird tho, cuz ginger's husband doug had met big tanky before... small world i guess.
it's worked out that whitey is gonna be my helper this weekend. he's in dire straights for cash, and there wasnt really enough sign jobs to go around fot him this weekend. so he's my san benardino helper.
and dez called and said her and her boyfriend mike wanna signwalk this weekend and get a ride out with me. i'll check with danny, cuz danny does all the signwalking scheduling with our regulars, and make sure i can get dez and mike on the roster without any problems and sweet, that's two walkers i can drop off on their spots way before work and have them ready to rock it.
i wont have a lot of walkers as it is anyways, and i have done san bernardino before back around thanksgiving time with that dude jesse that the viking fired... and back then me and jesse barely had any money, in fact we had to borrow money to buy the supplies we needed for the signs.
a sign guy always finds a way.
finding a way is always a more favorable move than calling the viking and telling him you blew it. he can back me on that.
right now im out of smokes, and i need a gatorade, so 7-11 here i come.
the ramones are like punk rock GODS, and fucking a if this ain't the saddest news ever.
i take this bong hit in your honor, Johnny Ramone.
spike lives in hermosa beach, and as far as i can tell... has about the same amount of freetime as i do.
his house is a musical shmorgesborg
and i tried to convince him to go with me to vegas this coming Sept 24th.
Sean, that fool from Nebraska, called me up and invited me to meet up with him and his little brother in vegas on that weekend. his bro is turning 21.
i must admit im jealous from the jump, i mean, when *I* turned 21, all i got was drunk in some dive bar in lawndale. and sean's lil brother is gonna trip the lights fantastic in Las vegas??? with big tittied lap dancers, complementary vodka tonics, and dice and cards and bells'n'whistle?!?!?! lucky prick.
but yah, i'll be there fo sho. unless that weekend happens to be signjob hell with like ten million jobs, meaning that my work will need me, and i wont be able to go.
but in the end, i think chris said he's headed out the vegas THIS weekend. so either way, if i DO head out... it'll be solo.
sean said i can crash out on the floor of wherever they and up staying, and i might do that, or i might get a spot of my own. i dont kurrr really, cuz im just jazzed about taking time off from LA and NOT having to work the whole time.
im hoping they arent planning on hanging out "seeing" my place too much.
we're eating at Old Tony's, wich means three things: tastey steak, strong mai tai's, and ocean views. not bad, eh? plus you gotta love a restaruant that rocks the chianti bottles hanging from the ceiling
i think the roll call is gonna be something like, carri & her husband santiago, ginger & her husband doug, my mom, perhaps my grandparents, and me myself, and big tanky (if i can drag her ass into it! but hey, it might mean a free salad for the veggitarean)
my mom said she's gonna round up my sister's kids, and store them at her house while we eat @ old tone's... good cuz they hate me anyways.
not every tv show has to involve people getting voted off the show. why is all about that stupid ceremony that all of north america has come so used to.
but automatically censorship is gona ruin any idea for a stand up comedy show on network television. you dont need to say cunt or motherfucker to be funny, but i like cussing.
im dangerously low on weed. homie better be on deck tomorrow, or im gonna be bitter britches fo sho.
ok the commercial's over. bye.
there's literally about 30 little envelopes, i bet i will be able to buy a new car with what i owe in parking tickets. damn them and their sparadic ticket giving style.
they'll go like two weeks without ticketing me, giving me a false sense of security...
and then on one day they'll tack on three. seriously THREE little envelopes stacked under the wicdshield wiper.
i have a parking space, but when you have 10 feet tall signwalker signs sticking out the back of your truck so far you cant see jack shit, the street just looks less annoying.
it's twofer-tuesday at scronimos pizza, and imma stay home, eating pizza taking tokes, perhaps watching last comic standing on tv, cuz i love dat shit. i want a bumper sticker that says "honk if you love eating hot pie!"
oh and why are people scared to honk in LA? i honk my horn at everything. sometimes just to the beat of the music. i think more people need to honk instead of patiently waiting for the idiot to do whatever idiot manuver they got goin on.
put the pressure on a bit, let them "know" you are there.
ANDDDDD fucking A, man, people honk at me alll damn day when im signing the jobs. it's like the only time people get balls to honk is when they pull up behind me with my emergency flashers blinking and a lane WIDE open right next to me. ijust start honking back, and it becomes like a honk duel or whatever.
my cousin has no car horn right now, and i think he ought to buy a conch shell, like from lord of the flies. i have one and that fucker is LOUD.
so it appears imma be STUCK the FUCK out in san bernardino this weekend. with the only good news being that the greeks aren't running the show. AND im sposed to juke the sale for two signwalkers, even the promoters are in on it. thats rad.
i drove to gardena to dump all the signs out of my truck at my uncle bill's house/sign-depot. and i drove to the smog check place, but decided getting burger king and heading back home sounded more appealing. besides, who gets a smog check done on a tuesday?!?! that's not the proper ediquette.
our governor put a ban on necrophilia
now ok sure, glad that arnie is keeping himself busy, and all that jazz... but the question that comes to MY mind is, who cares?
i dont understand people's obbsession with their own dead bodies. they want to be burried, cremated or frozen like Walt Disney... and they dont want perverts having sex with them. BUT WHY? who cares...? you are DEAD.
when *I* die... i dont give a FUCK what happens.
when im dead the whole world can take turns pissing or shitting in my mouth. OR gang members in south central can string up my body and use it for target practice while shooting off their uzi's, assault rifles, and mack 10's. or whatever!
dont get me wrong, i think necrophilics are creepy, and i think the whole idea of having sex with a corpse seems sickening... i just dont get why its a crime. and i dont get why people attatch ideas like 'dignity' to a rotten carcass.
but man oh MANNNN would i love to hear the audio recordings of arnold, and his accent, having a serious discussion about necrophilia... damn i bet thats some funny shizzzz.
so tommorrow! ...
i derno, i got nothin.
i sorta planned on drinking NyQuil as soon as i got home from work, but instead i invited big tanky over to watch the premiere episodes of Las Vegas and LAX. btw, both shows suckkkkkkkkkkk. but anyways, i was gonna induce an early nights sleep with the Ny to the Quil, but somehow it became 2am, and now it's far too close to howard stern's 3am live from new york broadcast... and if i fall asleep NOW, i'll wind up missing the whole show. i have to hold out for 4am, so i can get SOME stern in. yes i know yer thinking, "anti you ALWAYS do that shit" and i'm thinking back at you "so what, who asked you?"
tomorrow's agenda is obviously wide open, all i HAVE to make sure happens, of all my errands that i constantly neglect and ignore, is the Smog Check. i have to somehow comvince my lazy ass to get to the place and get it over with. i also have to call geico car insurance... in the hopes they can save me loads of money on my car insurance, like the commercials claim. i usually make an attempt, i dial up and start the call and everything, but then i get bored, and make up an excuse why i have to get off the phone, like "oops i have to go! i just sharted!" or something like that. i hate phones. especially when they ring.
i havent eaten today. i never remember to eat on workdays. when whitey was my helper that was the hardest part for him, he LOVES food. everytime we drove past church's chicken he'd look like a puppy who lost his mommy. but shit! we were busy. or at the very least, i have no patience for church's greasy ass shit-ball chicken, blick.
it's times like these i wonder why i refuse to have food in my cupboards. ok fine. the to do list for tommorow NOW READS: smog check, and grocery shopping at 7-11.
im covering for the viking today, and so yah, i'll be filtering all thru-out redondo beach in my truck. maybe i can run an errand or two even. like smog check, paying parking tickets, ect
my cousin and i went into the fat girl club on saturday to check it out. WHOA SHIT. im never going back. at least not unless i have a pair of hand cuffs to make sure they stop trying to drag me into the dance floor. can you say aggresive?
but now we figured out that between the border-brothers-bar, and this fat chick bar... that bars were we dont belong are THE SHIT, so next on our list of places we don't belong will be a hardcore asian kareoke bar in china town. if they speak a drop of english, we're leaving.
it's like whats so great about it all, is that usually we end up having such an unexpected great time. yes even the fat chick bar, cuz you know, it was definitely interesting, and i actaully hadn't danced that hard in years.
on my way home i swung by the performing arts center to find the viking and danny building a 9/11 tribute, complete with candles and flowers, and a HUGE 911 made out of blank cora-plast. then my homie swung by to sell some herbalations... and on my way home i dropped off 19 year old sarah-the-signwalker at her post.
i got home, hopped on my skateboard, and went straight to it, bombed the hill that leads to the pier, and hooked myself up some new aviator shades, a new ball cap, and a churro hot off the presses.
right now tooth is balled up on my couch, and im half naked trying to stay cool in the midst of this HEAT.
signwalker lost and found.
that's what our cars are. right now im smoking danny's GPC cigarettes, and i have other goodies from the past that they left behind! like sun flower seads, and um.... spilled slurpees
he said he has vodka and redbull and that prolly means him and his date arent sleepy. interesting.
the ghetto was blazin hot, yo. my thin white fruit of the loom tee shirt was soaked with stink sweat. i love it when it just runs down my face.
once we have the front of the dealership looking tits with signs all over the place, and flags and shit tied to the fence, it's straight AC time rolling in the truck, while i slave out danny for a bit. that's what i pay his chatty kathy ass for, right?
danny didn't do much talking today, we had Stern on all morning and it was nice to HEAR the show for a change. thx danny.
anyways, our client high fived me, slapped me the chiggity checky chizzle fo shizzle, and i already slammed that baby into the bank.
on the agenda for tonight... booze. naja's is fun, especially when the house band with no name comes on and busts classic rock covers. i like hearing ZZ Top live no matter who's playing it. makes me want to dust off my axe, and get distorted with a distortion pedal myself. imma mean ass death metal guitar solo-ist.
ok so this is my weak ass vacuum cleaner. it's useless. and cleaning my whole apartment on my hands and knees making a million strokes across the carpe... that's not getting it done.
i've thought about it, and yes i should just give it up and buy a shop vac, but i derno, seems a bit FUCKING HUGE for my tiny fleabag apartment.
so imma just score something nice and decent from target (pronounced tar-jay) BAGLESS baby, im gonna rock the bagless finally!!!
oh and i forgot to say that i bought a pirate flag for $12 on vermont and slauson. it now hangs next to my bed. so i can see skulls and bones in my dreams...
danny will be at the ford dealership by 8am, and im counting on him being late. traffic's a bitch in the morning, what can i say? but *I* plan on being there early anyways. early turd catches the sherm.
the people in my building for the most part suck. i dread the awkward interactions like... "oops we both got stuck in the elevator at the same time!" and so-and-so from the third floor tries to make small talk, because they cant handle my cold death stare. and i know they all think imma dirtbag anyways, as they smell the smoke creeping from under my apartment front door, while they tra la la the way down the halls on their way to go rollerblading in spandex.
it's like this bitch who called me out because i was gonna dive into the pool from the firre pit, and that was obviously dangerous. truth be told i was trying to get des and bigtanky to go, "noooo!!! don't do it!!!!" and i wasn't gonna. but no, big-busy-body had to stick her big snout up in my business. she then later walked by us, and tried to diss me, BITCH!
there was this other time that tooth was over here, and we took tooth out front, and btw tooth is the most well behaved dog you ever fucking met.... dog knows a command to push the elevator buttons for chrissakes... and some yuppy scumfuck says to us, "EXCUSE me-- EXCUSE ME, put a leash on THAT dog!"
like what the fuck's she gonna do? make a citizen's arrest? how the fuck did she decide our little civil disobediance (having an unleashed dog) was any of her business?
or when i was a little kid and i went a block north to get my bike up the ramp from the bike path to the strand where it reads "PEDS ONLY" and i was headed back to meet my mom who was on rollerskates coming up the stairs by where we parked. so on my way back, only a block or so, i rode my bike, and some old man from manhattan beach stopped me to bitch me out for breaking the rules, wich made me feel pretty bad, and when i told my mom about it, she gave me the best advice.
i was 9 years old, and she told me, "next time someone tells you what to do, you tell em, 'mind your own fucking business, asshole,' ok johnny?"
mom was right all those years ago. stay the fuck up out my bizznasssssssss
or if there's a sign on my forehead that says 'Fuckwit Me' just simply ignore it.
i have no clue why anyone likes this blog but i have a few theories.
first and foremost i update all the time. even if it was the most horrifically boring shit i wrote, at least its new shit. writers block is a myth.
i think it might be a breath of fresh air for some that i can laugh at myself, and i dont comb my computer looking for only the most falttering of pics of myself (i even post pics of myself on the crapper), or how shamelessly i will reveal that i have nothing to do all weekend (no life), and that im not affraid to reveal ANYTHING on my mind, or look like the biggest dork(cuz i am).
one thing, that i never know if anyone can see or not, is that my attitude is like FUCK THE READER. my blog, my freetime, my thoughts, my hobbie. if you want to make a hobby of reading my website good for you, or if there wasn't even a website for anyone to see... i'd still write things down, even if it was only on paper with a pencil. because i do this because it's fun to me. i feel better after i purge my soul. reader this
i argue that writing itself takes NO TALENT. because writing really just falls under the umbrella of communicating, and communication is where peopel either have or lack talent. i recently spoke to someone who said that they saw writing as a limited form of communication, perhaps trying to tell me that they felt like talking things out verbally had more range.
i could not disagree more. how can you talk anything out if you can't type it out? words are words, aren't they? and with italics, bold, CAPLOCK and all the other textual options, i derno. it feels limitless to me.
but i think most of the people that read my blog are people i've made friends with. i have my aol screenname up at the top of this page for a reason, because i like to say hello, and ask anyone i've met or talked to... i'm really fairly friendly (unless you are attacking me).
it would have been slightly mellow though, because the two greek assholes are selling cars in REDONDO BEACH for once... and there's like NEVER a sale in redondo.
fuck that noise though, i am so relieved to be put on a sign job that doesn't require me getting so stressed out that my stomach quivers.
yes i will be doing the south central jobby. the one that i could almost do with my eyes closed. except i wont have Robert as my helper... i'll have danny. wich is fine, as long as danny doesn't forget when to shut his yaptrap. and i hope to god danny doesn't need me to pick his ass up from buena park. i'll take him home, who cares... but if i have to fetch him, that's an hour earlier that i have to wake up.
i never even got payed yet for last week. i'm slowly moving away from living pay check to pay check, and the debt is SHRINKING. next thing you know, i'll actually have money in the bank. holy fuck!!!! a savings!!!!!
see? i knew buying weed in bulk would save me money. im a genius.
see, what used to happen is i'd be sitting at home. stoned. and i'd get the bright idea to go fill up a shopping cart with shit from the super market. and then i could make all the treats in the world in the comfort of my own studio apartment. wee!
well here's the thing i seem to ALWAYS forget, i hate all the shit the market sells.
i don't want fucking pop tarts, or marinara sauce. im definitely not buying any produce. what the hell would i use a vegitable for? im too lazy to cook a steak... or any other meat, my sinks broken so i cant eat food that requires a clean dish to eat it off of.
and so, the measly five items i pick, could have all been bought at 7-11. Chips, Beer, Pop, and cigarettes. IN FACT.
at 7-11 they dont lock the smokes up behind that plastic like they do at the market, so it'd have been faster by all accounts.
teh other reason i dont shop for shit is because it's a waste. i am too out of control with my obsessive compulsive behaviour, that whatever is bought, is gone by the time i wake up the next morning. DEPLETED!
it's like im bored, so every time i get up, i grap another jello pudding snak, take another swipe off the big jug of orange juice (rinse, repeat) and i have nothing to show for it the next day, except for constapation... perhaps.
i am boycotting pizza. it's great that they drive it here, but that's no excuse to pretend its the only food that exists.
i wish i was more of a salad dude. im like more of a dressing-with-salad-dude rather than a salad-with-dressing-guy. if that makes sense.
welp i cant make any sense of this, but i love the way the new tires look on the silverado. bad. ace.
i think a dip in the pool is in order. an dmore beer obviously. i love drinking in the heat.
beer from mexico is my favorite. corona, pacifico, tecate, dos equis, negro modelo, sol... but i hate lime in my beer. why do people dig on that? i think it's fruity.
fuck 7-11, cuz they totally gave me a canadian quarter. and the lamest part is that i think i was the one that gave it to THEM in the first place.
new tizzles fo shizzles. and it only cost $383 bucks! i bought mine at lee's tires in lommita, ca.
now i gotta meet robert to pay his ass. im meeting him at the carl's junior in gardena by the 91 freeway.
i cant wait to test out how bozz my new tires are, i feel like jeff gordon.... so you wanna dash for cash, or run for fun?
shit im late.
someone backs be.
what would anti do with moss? not a god damned thing. see...? you can even use the process of elimination.
you know if you wait long enough your apartment will finally become disgusting enough that one of your visitors will resort to cleaning it? well that tactic hasn't been working lately. damn it all!
my hair is borderline retarded at this point, and i'd love a fucking haircut. i know i've said i'll never go to supercuts again... but imma dicey motherfucker, and i am far too lazy to figure out some other place to go, beside fantastic sams, wich we all know, is far less than than fantastic.
that tv show scrubs is my favorite program. funny shit. (keep in mind i dont have cable)
italics are so cool right now, but strike through is hotter
does a couch potato gather moss? or dorito crumbs? i hate doritos, those chips are too dusty.
i wanna take a class in the art of etcha sketching. its a lost art.
i heard from another signwalker that whitey got crazy on some lady who was being mouthy, and was saying they didnt like the corner whitey was gonna make them signwalk on... he told her, "oh you dont wanna work? ok bitch, GET the FUCK out of my truck." that's so rad!
go whitey! i trained him well.
im gonna see about throwing down bigtime tomorrow morning and getting heavy duty tires, instead of an ordinary replacement set. my truck needs it, honestly. i dont want big ass tacky tires, but i mos def want some shit with a little bite on it. nahmean, posers?
i have a pint of ice cream to demolish. yes its true, i am a health freak.
i think raspy-shmaspy is coolio.
WELL NOW IT"S TIME AGAIN. go help lil sister. she's in a tight spot, and i wouldnt even be making a big deal unless she REALLY needs it. and she does, let's just say there was a car wreck, and it's complicated. and fucked up.
help a cute geargia peach stop her tears, and donate to paypal use the email: firstname.lastname@example.org
three days off, and how to manage them, lemme THINK here. i know there's gotta be a decent way to go about this.
today is do nothing day, i deserve that much.
tomorrow i have to, HAVE TO, have to get new tires for my truck. its getting scurry. maybe they can even fix the spare tire that i accidentally TORE LOOSE from it's holder thingy under the truck bed. i'd like to see Dr. Chang also and get me some accupuncture. and if there's still time left in the day.... a car wash.
fuck thursday, because i know its gonna be practially dedicated to the signs. swapping out loads of signs from my truck, cashing the check for the signwalker payroll, hauling ass through Home Depot using one of their shitty orange shopping carts like a scooter with no brakes.
I AM SO HAPPY!!!!! yayayayyayayyyyyy. cant u tell by the pic?
i think i need my own telethon. id give all the money to buzznet so they could find my pics they lost.
i dont take myself seriously, THATS FUCKING WHY
basically i have a love for laughter, it's what i fucking live for. laughing and smiling, and doing so with others. fucking A.
no i dont have a lot of shame, NOR do i have a lot to lose, hence the liberty to talk about taboo shit with a pic of my mug next to the text.
i want you to want me to want you, but i dont NEEED YOUUUUU.
dont take me serious, because i didnt take me serious FIRST. put a foam rubber nose on my face give me a rainbow wig afro, and paint me retarded, cuz thats how i like it anyways. judge me, i beg you.
yah pffft... i reallly sit here thinking that "imma writer" just cuz i have a glob like every mom father son daughter, even your gay uncle has a little piece of shit site with dribble and a really cute template.
this ain't WRITING and YOU're not more of a write than i am, or anyone is, cuz WE"RE NOT WRITERS, and if you think that this is, you take it way too serious, and prolly need the jaws of life to remove your head safely from your ass.
i dont care, and that's my revenge and i skip, "tra la la la", down the sidewalk... cuz 5 fucking bucks sayd that the starbucks vanilla frappacino bottled drinks i buy from 7-11 are COLD as fuck, just like i like em, and yah i crack out on those, and yah fuck you... but not really, fuck you in the nicest most passionate from the heart kinda ways.
pound your chest with your right fist, and go, "yeeeeee-ah mudderfugger" and i know you're feeling me.
straight hexin on the anglo saxon that im waxin.
ok, i think im gonna go test the flamability of my bead sheets now, or if im lucky the cigarette will fall out onto my chest and burn me again. loved that. nite.
i have to be driving too. as much as i bitch... i secretly LOVE driving. i like it for a million reasons, but mostly because it forces me to concentrate on the world im driving through, rather than sleep and fucking MISS it all.
the dudes at teh oil change place always have to have a little rally around my truck and they come over and ask me, "you realllllly rack up those miles, don'cha buddy?" and i shrug back at them, because i just want my oil changed. not to make grease monkey friends.
but yah i feel the NEED to go somewhere. FAR prefffffered preferably, and like i cant fucking wait! i wanna fly though, and parhaps sleep on somenoes couch.
(where the fuck are my cigarettes?! oh wait there they are)
people that come here, to this blog dont really read any of it. i could go askdjakdjaskda. the whole time. or so i've been told. wich is pretty awesome, and kinda weird that i waste my time dribbling on...
but apparantly i LOVE wasting time.
the new bong is wonderous, and makes me trip on how i put up smoking through such a piece of shit for so long, i mean that shit was so weak and light weight it fell over twice a day.
im pulling onna sierra nevada Pale Ale cuz i felt like being fancy. i guess.
they call me oconnor cuz it rhymes with johnner
ok so its ten jillion degrees outside, even here at the beach... my pool is having labor day party-ness with like fuckin $1.50 greyhounds and chips and dip and shit like that. maybe i'll meet a cougar.
the hut tub is always hotter than all holy hell, and fucking 15 nice cozy minutes in that bitch, and yer shoulders are ready to melt off your bones. even a tense motherfucker like myself, who is immune to shoulder massages, gets relief... and there's like never anyone there but us, because my buildings are filled with old people too decrepid to swim. yay!
now lemme tell you about the pool. this ain't no fucking ordinary pool, this shit is like bath water warm all over the place. and the pool is surrounded by open skies, palm trees, and the smell of funnel cake and churros wafting up from the 2-minute-walking-distance pier. or at night time you can hear the hootin and hollerin from the fat girl night club, called Moxie. we think that Moxie has a fat girl goth night, and big tanky wants to check it out, cuz she's a goth at heart.
yah so i derno, my friends woke me up, and i bumbled my way over by my bong, and i've knocked it down ten million times, and in fact if you ask me how it broke this time, i have NO CLUE, i just know that my friends help pick up the pieces and i didn't step in broken glass yet.
the new one came from hermosa smoke and gift, formerly known as hermosa high. and i think it's a better tube in the end, it's thicker glass, and the base holds water, and maybe it won't spill so much, because all that water acts like a weight.
ORRRRR, when it spills it's gonna be like a flash flood, because yah, that's a lot of H2O.
my car has a protective layer of... whatever... to protect ti from the nasty elements.
if i wash the bitch, she's like naked, out there, waiting for her tits to get a sun burn, and welp, i aint gonna have that. my truck deserves better than to be served up naked with burnt out tits.
sometimes i think i hate pizza, and would rather go anywhere else in teh world, and eat ANYthing else other than pizza. then i smoke the weed, and it robs me of my ambition, and i call up dominos, and they ask me, "fuck anti, can you overdose on pizza? cuz like... DUDE... yer keeping us in bizzniss"
and i tell him to fucking make sure he doesn't send that freaky asshole with teh moustache to deliver my food, cuz he reminds me of a norm the signwalker.
im easay to please and i live a simplistic life. the more you want the harder you have to work to get it, and welp, right nowi am happy with not wanting more and more.
living paycheck to paycheck makes my stomach get tied in knots.
LOOK IM DRIPPING WET FOR YOU
i just like the way my hair behaves when its wet, it just chills out and holds still, and feels COLD.
i want beer now... and death metal.
the cuddle novelty of a girl in my bed wears off in about 20 minutes, and then my body, aslo known as the human furnace, kicks it into overdrive... and i feel like my blood is boiling and like my skin is gonna cook itself off the bones.
what's with these dude's that are all needy and want their chicks to stay the night? are you too scurred to sleep alone? you need your mommy there?? do you need the hallway light on too? you fucking puss...
im very particular about my sleep habbits. i like to get it in two hour spurts, so that i can wake up and get a cigarette in, here and there.
i dont mind the girl sleeping over though, i mean, if she knows how to ackright. like, no touching me, and hold fucking still dammit. there was this one chick that couldn't leave me be, and she'd get too close to me making me all uncomfortably hot and sweaty, one time i even had to ask her to stop breathing her hotgarbage-sleep-breath all over me.
i wouldn't have gotten so annoyed if she didn't get so butt hurt. i mean, why take things like that personally? it's not my fault, i gotta be me.
im immune to you and your blaring car horn, i have already instructed my helper to automatically waste time flipping off the honker, and go extra slow, to teach the honker a lesson.
whats this great grand lesson that me, anti, has bestowed upon myself to teach all of south central???? that is simple.
when there are two lanes, and there's a car stopped with its hazzards on.... GO THE FUCK AROUND.
that's me in that blue truck, and im not in any hurry to get out of your stupid way. AND robert is looking to beat someone's ass. that's how he releives stress, so i dare you.
ok, if yer blocked in by cars in teh other lane, and yer like STUCK behind me, then whatever, HONK away if it makes you feel any better, we will staill lolly gag and fucking screw you over as good as we have time for. but believe me, im AT work already, i HAVE time.
wow im hungry, maybe that would make me less cranky. you know... a churrow.
imma fetch one@the pier, STAT
my cars tires are like pin cushions for roofing nails.
at least i have PLENTY of nice nice herbalations called "the dirty girl" cuz i couldah got "sugar bear" but i dont like that kind as much AND it costs more.
i woke up late as all holy hell for work, and that was coo, cuz it all got handled in the end.
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