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December 09, 2004
Death of Dimebag
I read that Dimebag died. Dimebag, the guitarist for some metal band called Damageplan. I also read that the audience was shocked. That they don't think about death at metal shows.
Come on. They don't think about death? Who are they trying to fool?
That's like me saying I don't expect to see crazies on the Avenue in Hamden.
I do not, however, expect to talk about work with them like I did last night.
I was hanging out with Emma, Jessica and Sarah at Jessica's house in Hamden. We drank beers and ate spaghetti. We talked, and I found out that the "office computer guy" is always hot.
I made a mental note to change careers.
Maybe having work on my mind was why I stopped to talk to the crazy guy on the bus stop bench. After all he had work on his mind too. I could tell. He was yelling, "I've got to get an easier job."
Well, he's got to get an easier job. I've got to get a job that makes me instantly attractive. We should chat.
I approached the bench and noticed it was the tongue guy from Frazier's on Monday. This fat old man that seemed to be using his tongue like a piece of bubble gum. He'd chew on it, then force it out of his mouth, like he was blowling a bubble. (Maybe that's not the best way to describe it; I can say however, that ever time I looked over toward the pool table I saw his tongue protruding from his mouth.)
"I've got to get an easier job."
"Yeah. Me too."
"I've got to jerk them off until they get hard"
???
What? Did this crazy old guy just tell me that he masturbates men for money?
"I should get them hard and then cut it off and give it to the ladies."
I've never met a male prostitute before. Much less a crazy one that wants to cut off penises. I thought it best to run. "Yeah. Good idea" I said as I ran to my car.
I have, however, met a pimp and his ho.
I was walking to a friend's house after a party and we came across a guy sitting in a doorway. "You got a light?"
"Yeah, sure. Here you go."
"You guys cops?"
"No. Do we look like cops?"
"No. I guess not. ... I'm a pimp."
"What? You're a pimp and you're sitting here in this doorway bumming for a light?"
"I ain't bummin' for nothin' I just needed to talk to you guys 'cause you look like you need a lady tonight."
"There are no ladies around here. If you're a pimp, why don't you have any ladies?"
"I do. She's right over there, in that van with a customer."
I was impressed by his professionalism, calling them customers and everything as he pointed to a van parked across the street next to a park.
"The van doesn't look like it's 'a rockin''."
"She just started in there with him. She's real good. You guys want a chance at her? $40 each."
I declined. My friend decided to feign interest. I decided it was worth a shot as well.
"Forty bucks each? Like for both at the same time?"
"Yeah. Forty bucks each."
"No, no. I mean at the same time. Double pen?"
"Oh. You'd have to ask her about that one, man. I can't say nothin' about whether she'll do that or not."
"I've got the butt."
"No way. I want the butt. You always get the butt."
"I don't know if she'll even do it like that."
We chatted a little more waiting to see his hooker. He let me use his cell phone. I called my girlfriend and left a message, "I'm calling from a pimp's phone!" Then a girl came toward us from across the street. From the direction of the park. From the VAN.
"Is that her?"
"Yeah. That's my girl."
She was rather homely looking. She wore sweat pants and a sweat shirt. She was sort of chubby; not exactly the mental picture of a whore I had at the time. The strangest thing was she smelled of fabric softener.
"These guys want to know if you'll take them at the same time. In both holes."
"You smell like dryer sheets."
"Both holes? Ok. Sure."
"Sweet! How much?"
"$70"
"Woah. Each?"
"No. Total."
"That's a deal, I thought it was $40 each."
"Yeah, but if I'm getting it over with at the same time it's cheaper."
"Cool. I've got the butt."
"No. He gets the butt." She said this pointing to me. "He looks like he knows what to do with it."
The pimp, Mark, and his whore, Brenda, got very excited. They thought they were going to make another $70 pretty quickly.
Then we left.
But Mark hurried after us. He grabbed me by the shoulder. "Hey, man. $70. That's a deal, and she said you can have the butt."
"I don't know. I just don't think so. It's kind of late."
"Well you should take my number just in case you change your mind."
Then Brenda followed suit.
Posted by calculatoronfire at December 9, 2004 12:33 PM