blue moon (2)

Friday, June 10, 2005

What To Write ©

I’m sitting here at my desk with lots to write and not knowing what I want to write. How’s that for a twist?
The problem is that it’s hot and I don’t feel like writing anything. I'm beginning to want snow.
It’s so hot and it’s not the hottest month yet, that belongs to July.
All I have been doing is drinking water, coke and anything else that’s wet, as you can see what my desk almost looks like.


I think I will tell you about a friend of mine.
Once he drove nice cars, owned 4 houses and had a successful business. He was single and stupid.
Now he is a mental patient, on disability with nothing to his name but 3 thick folders, one at the mental hospital, one at the police station and one at the city jail.
Somewhere in the past, this man, who for the most part of his early life was basically a geek, decided that he wanted to hang out downtown, where we were. He thought it would be cool and it would look like he was one of us.
I myself think, that what he really wanted, was to be accepted by someone.
He craved the attention and to be with a tough group of people.
We let him stay, he wasn’t so bad, but he wasn’t really the type to be there.
He was kind of weak and eager to impress us.
Eventually he got into the cocaine and started spending hordes of money and he acquired “new” friends that were willing to spend it with him.
Before you know it he was broke and had lost the business and the houses. He then borrowed from his family to feed his habit, until they finally said no.
He then resorted to crime to make some money. He made a terrible criminal and kept getting caught.
While in jail he cracked up and ended up in a mental institution and is an out patient even now. I rushed this part of the story because I didn’t really want to dwell on how he got to where he was, but what I want to tell you is some of the things he did while in one of his grand illusion state of minds. Yes plural, he has a few of them.
Yup, that’s what they were and he had a fetish with gangsters.
He didn’t want to sleep with them, he just believed he knew them all and they were his buddies. Even though he has never met these people.
He even thought he knew famous people, which he didn’t. So here are 2 stories of what he has done.

The doorbell rang and I went over to answer it. At the door was Monkey, his real name was Elias.
Where’s that fucken bastard Steve, he bellowed”
Why what did he do now, I asked?
I was sitting at home watching TV and the phone rang. I pick it up and the lady says she is looking for Steve.
I told her no Steve lived there just me.
So she asks me is this your number and I say yes it is.
Well she tells Elias that Steve called on Wednesday and wanted to speak to the Pope.
I’m almost on the floor laughing because I know never to leave Steve alone in the same room with a phone, because you never know who he would call. I paid a lot of money on long distance because I didn’t watch him on the phone.
He tells me that she said that Steve called to talk to the Pope because he was dying.
He is going to die for sure, yelled Elias.
He told the nun that he didn’t call the pope and the guy who did was not dieing but was a nut. He said that he thought the Pope was a nice man, but that he was Muslim and had no reason to want to talk to the Pope.
After a few pints Elias settled down and went home.
I was impressed they called back to check on Steve.
BTW Elias got the long distance charges for the call Steve made to the Vatican.

On one other occasion while at my place, I was upstairs doing something and I had forgotten about Steve and the phone and when I came down stairs, he was on the line talking to someone.
I went cold when I saw the phone up to his ear. I patiently waited to hear something familiar. He may have been calling a real friend who knows.
Then I heard him.
What do you mean you can’t let me talk to him? I am John Gotti’s nephew.
I shot off the couch and jumped on Steve tearing the phone away and hanging up.
He was on the phone with the FBI wanting to talk to the biggest mafia boss in the States.
I freaked out at him and tossed him out.
Great, now the FBI has my number.

He has done a lot of crazy things.
The last BIG stupid thing he did was go to the race track, open up the stalls for the horses and set them free.
Yup millions of dollars in horse flesh, running down the street and a nut running behind them screaming YOUR FREE YOUR FREEEEEE !!!!!!!!

Fridays joke for you to start off your weekend


It was getting a little crowded in Heaven, so God decided to change the admittance policy.
The new law was that, in order to get into Heaven, you had to have had a real bummer of a day when you died. The policy would come into effect at noon the next day.
The next day at 12:01, the first person came to the gates of Heaven. The Angel at the gate, remembering the new policy, promptly said to the man,
"Before I let you in, I need you to tell me how your day was going when you died."
"No problem," the man said. "I came home to my 25th floor apartment on my lunch hour and found my wife half naked. She appeared to be having an affair, but her lover was nowhere in sight. I immediately began searching for him.
My wife was yelling at me as I searched the entire apartment. Just as I was about to give up, I happened to glance out onto the balcony and noticed that there was a man hanging off the edge by his fingertips!
The nerve of that guy!
Well, I ran out onto the balcony and stomped on his fingers until he fell to the ground.
But wouldn't you know it, he landed in some trees and bushes that broke his fall and he didn't die. This ticked me off even more.
In a rage, I went back inside to get the first thing I could get my hands on to throw at him. Oddly enough, the first thing I thought of was the refrigerator. I unplugged it, pushed it out onto the balcony, and tipped it over the side.
It plummeted 25 stories and crushed him!
The excitement of the moment was so great that I had a heart attack and died almost instantly. The Angel sat back and thought a moment.
Technically, the guy did have a bad day. It was a crime of passion.
So, the Angel announced, "OK, sir. Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven,"and let him in.
A few seconds later the next guy came up.
The Angel said, "Before I can let you in, I need to hear about what your day was like when you died."
"No problem," said the second man. "But you're not going to believe this.
I was on the balcony of my 26th floor apartment doing my daily exercises. I had been under a lot of pressure so I was really pushing hard to relieve my stress. I guess I got a little carried away, slipped, and accidentally fell over the side!
Luckily, I was able to catch myself by the fingertips on the balcony below mine.
But all of a sudden this crazy man comes running out of his apartment, starts cursing, and stomps on my fingers.
Well, of course I fell. I hit some trees and bushes at the bottom which broke my fall so I didn't die right away. As I'm lying there face up on the ground, unable to move, and in excruciating pain, I see this guy push his REFRIGERATOR, of all things, off the balcony.
It falls the 25 floors and lands on top of me, killing me instantly."
The Angel is quietly laughing to himself as the man finishes his story.
"I could get used to this new policy," he thinks to himself.
"Very well," the Angel announces. "Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven,"> and he lets the man enter.
A few seconds later, a third man comes up to the gate.
The angel says, "Please tell me how you died."
The third man says, "OK, picture this.I'm naked, hiding inside a refrigerator...."

Have a nice weekend


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