Wednesday, November 17, 2010

THE WIZARD RETURNS!


Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. It is truly me. I've blessed you with a return to this cyberspacial realm. I return from alternate worlds of untold splendor; the likes of which your feeble magic-less minds could never conceive of. I've relocated to San Francisco because I heard that they enjoy fanciful gentlemen here and also Krankiboy had a spare room in his place that I could crash on for a while.

I look forward to traversing the local taverns in search of lovely damsels who know how to take a wizard staff.

I am here to answer any and all questions* that you worthless mortals may have as I am all knowing and mighty for I AM THE WIZARD!


*Kranki insisted that I do that in exchange for sleeping on his futon.

Monday, November 15, 2010

The Pervster Encounter - Pervert + Dirty Hipster = pervster

I was out on Sunday with three female friends and a couch surfer chick from Prague who is staying with me. After a semi-swanky dinner we were on the way to get some ice cream. A few blocks into the walk a dirty-looking, flannel shirt-wearing, and seemingly drunk guy in his mid to late 20s announced... actually I'm not totally sure what he announced or threatened as he said it quickly and slurred his speech a bit. It was one of a few possible things.

He may have said "Give me a cigarette and I'll show you my dick." OR "Give me a dollar or I'll show you my dick." It's even possible (but not likely) that he said, "I'll give me a dollar if you soybean my dick." I think he was offering the chance to gaze longingly at his member in exchange for a cigarette. A perfectly good barter method if you have something worth offering. He really didn't.

I DO know for sure that he then proceeded to take down his pants, exposing his flacid, meh of a penis. He then turned and displayed his ass and quickly jogged off without a dollar or a cigarette or his dignity.
The women in my group walked right on down the street as if nothing had happened.

Welcome to San Francisco, ladies.

Beer-Goggled Bob

I wrote this about 3 1/2 years ago. The part in blue is from my former editor. I needed to hear some praise.

I love reading your stuff, always gives me a laugh and I needed one this morning, bit of a rough start……will be up on the site in a short while.



Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Beer-goggled Bob: A Survivor's Story

as told by Krankiboy

Yesterday evening my friend Bob (not me) found himself cabbing it back to the apartment of a woman he'd just met a few hours before. Normally this would have been a good thing, right? No. Not in this case. You see Bob had been drinking a bit and smoking a decent amount of le herb and he ended up sharing this cab at the request of the woman he'd met at his friend's dinner party. Once he got back to this woman's house and it's bright lighting he told me that the fog of the alcohol began to wear off and it slowly dawned on him that he most certainly did not want to fool around with this slightly older woman who was not at all his type in either the looks or personality department. She also had a totally stuffed nose and was sniffling constantly and wiping her nose with her hand. She clearly had some kind of full-on cold. She also had a less than melodious voice which she clearly liked to hear the sound of. Poor Bob, what an awkward predicament to have stupidly wandered into. Here are some of the things that slightly stone-toxicated Bob did at 2am to try and express his disinterest without hurting the woman's feelings... much.

1) Pretended to fall asleep on the couch when she went to get some water from the kitchen. Sadly she didn't let him sleep but instead woke him and insisted that they should go to her bed. Strike one, Bob.

2) Made a truly tremendous effort to get her cat to climb up on him to serve as a protective buffer from any sexual advances or physical encroachment. Bob is also allergic to cats so that says quite a lot to me about his desperation. The cat was irritatingly shy and never served as the feline shield that Bob so desperately needed. Strike two.

3) Fabricated an elaborate story about having feelings for their mutual friend to buy some time to think of another means of escape. Sadly, by this time, she had placed her legs on him. Not only were her legs over his lap but she seemed to be actually using a bit of force to hold him in place. That is how my pal Bob related the predicament to me. I can only repeat what he told me, right? In any event that was strike three.

After she picked up on his subtle hints of non-interest she suggested that they could just sleep in bed and she said "I promise not to attack you or anything." Bob decided this sounded reasonable and agreed. She had lied. Once Bob was resting peacefully on his side of the bed she almost immediately rolled over and attacked him. Bob informed me that she was a rather lousy kisser with dry lips and unshaven legs. That poor, stupid, bastard. Could it have gotten worse? How was Bob going to escape? What tale could he tell to make a speedy exit with his dignity still somewhat intact? Could he make it out without killing her, or even worse... having to continue kissing her.

Bob held totally still hoping to tap into his happy place. Maybe like T-Rex she could only see him if he moved. Maybe, like a grizzly bear, she'd leave him if he played dead. Just as he began to lose hope a brilliant escape plan began to form in his head with crystal clarity.

What magical words did Bob use that gave him his sweet freedom and a long fucking walk back home? Bob did the lamest acting of his life and, with as much conviction as he could muster, he said, "OH, darn! I just remembered... I have to be up early. I promised my mom that I'd drive her to church in the morning."

Somehow the hollow and pathetic lie had worked. Its stunning effect gave Bob the time he needed to confuse her long enough to allow him to make his escape. Bob quickly grabbed his vintage coat and hurriedly fled into the night. The cold crispness of the early morning air felt like a sweet homecoming against his face. He had cheated fate and lived to tell the tale (to me, his friend). Bob looked to the heavens as he began his dazed walk of shame and whispered a quick, pagan prayer to the gods for sparing him. I mean, I assume that's what he probably did. I only know what Bob told me. I wasn't there to know for sure.

Bob feels badly that he contributed to such an uncomfortable situation and has since promised me (several times) that he will exercise much greater caution in any and all future interactions where alcohol, marijuana and socializing are involved. I've known my friend Bob for a long time now and in my heart I truly believe that he has learned a valuable life lesson from this intense experience. I only hope you have too.

The Almost End...

The woman got hold of Bob's email through a third party and asked him out for the following Saturday Night.


Saturday, November 13, 2010

Awfsome

Awfsome: Something so truly awful that it becomes awesome.

"My mom lost her virginity in a poker game."

"That's awfsome."

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Man Up!

I forget sometimes that fake confidence fools almost everybody if you do it well. Then once you've fooled enough people and they respond to you as a confident person it's easier to fool yourself.

p.s. I'm fuckin' awesome! Was that convincing?

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Straight Pride

I was talking to a guy I met at a dinner party tonight and he asked me why I was straight. I told him that I was just a one penis per sexual interaction kind of guy and that my penis happened to be my favorite. I think it's the first time I've had to justify my straightness. It's NOT a choice people. Do you think I would CHOOSE a life where awkward courtship and strange dating rituals are the norm over a world where I could meet somebody at a party and have sex 20 minutes later?*

* I may be confusing being gay with being in college.**



**I think I miss college.

Sunday, November 07, 2010

You Gotta Feel the Juice!

You Gotta Feel the Juice.

I generally ride a bike around the city to get where I want to go, but there is the odd occasion when I'm with a friend who is sadly bike less or when we need to go a size-able distance in the rain or up hills and in that instance I'll make use of a cab. Without fail there is always something interesting that comes out of the cab driver's mouth. And while it's not hard to get a cab driver to open up to you, over the years, I feel that I've acquired cabbie conversation techniques that help to bring about the very best-- and by "the very best," I of course mean the very worst that a cab driver might want to say. The first rule I follow is to always agree with whatever they say no matter how wrong it sounds to you. "What's that you say? The Serbs are an abomination and a stain on humanity and need to be purged from the Earth?" Well, that's a disgusting and violently racist thing to say, but.... Yes, totally, right on, cab man." or "White women only date black men because black men keep them addicted to cocaine?" Sounds like a tiny generalization but hey, it's your cab, so who'd know that better than you? Absolutely, they're turning the white women into coke whores. Somebody should stop them." That sort of thing. Those are actual examples by the way. Is there something about being behind the wheel of a car all day that breeds intolerance and hate? I know I don't like being stuck in traffic, but it's not going to lead to me forming a bitter conspiracy theory about how all French people are parasites and must be stabbed with sharp sticks. The second rule I follow to draw out cabbie genius is to use the phrase. "Tell me how you know that?" This simple phrase is almost always good for an entertaining cabbie anecdote.

Aside from the hate that many (not most, not all) but many cab drivers harbor there is the strange idea that it's okay to spew your opinion on the passengers. Probably because chances are that you're never going to see them again. There are certainly exceptions to the ranting cabbies. Most of the exceptions are either extremely well read and articulate or they're stoned out and listening to Reggae. I have to say. At the end of the night I can't handle the ranting drivers. A nice predicable, chilled-out, Reggae beat and a secondary high is exactly what I'm hoping for.

My absolute favorite cabbies aren't the ones that feel compelled to give a sermon against an ethnic group, my favorite are the ones that have some theory about life that they are completely adamant about and hold sacred.

This one time. It happened a while back. I think we were on our way to some dance club because a friend of a friend was DJing and it was raining. So, I hail a cab and plan to head down to stop to get my friend Seth. Before we pick him up I'm chatting with the cab driver and trying to draw him out but nothing, he's just not talking. I can't get him to rant and I'm pulling out all the stops. I even mention the crazy bike riders who think they own the road. That's usually good for some cab driver bile. But he's not taking any of my bait. I'm a little bummed.

We stop and Seth gets in. I say to Seth "Hey, man how are your get rich quick schemes paying out?"

And he says "I gave that up, now I'm working on my accept poverty slowly plan."

This barely funny exchange prompts a big response from our Yellow Cab driver. "Poverty is the DAMN DEVIL!" Seth is taken by surprise, I'd forgotten that there is even another person in the car because the driver's been so silent. But I'm happy that he's finally ready to dispense his cab driver wisdom.

"You're probably, right, my friend." Can you tell us why you think so?

Yeah, I can, oh boy I can... I'll tell you man. Poverty is the devil because you gotta feel the juice!

(look around confused) "Sorry, come again I don't understand?

"Okay, so I tell you. You got to feel the juice!" He says this again and then he nods as if now it's all been made perfectly clear.

Seth wants this secret street wisdom as much as I do. "Can you tell us what you mean about the juice?"

He nods. "Okay, I'll give you the whole thing." Then our once quite cab driver gets up on his beaded faux sheep skin pulpit and begins his sermon.

"Poverty is the devil's devil. You have to have enough money. You don't need all the money but you need some, enough, maybe just a good amount. You don't have money then you're not gonna feel the juice. You need enough money for a nice car so you can find a lady who will like you and be your girl. You have enough to fill up the gas tank to pick up your lady and take to a nice dinner so later she is going to fuck you. You just want one lady not all these ladies on different days." At this point I'm not sure where the monogamy angle connects to the poverty angle and the juice angle, but at least he's on a roll and he preaches on.

"You got a regular lady you see and that way when you fuck her you don't got to wear the raincoat on your banger. I think I know what he's saying but I ask for a bit of clarification. "Sorry, banger?"

"You know, your banger, your pole, your cock."

"Okay, penis, so by raincoat you mean like a condom?"

Yeah, you can't be doing that. Fucking with a condom is like sucking on a candy with the wrapper still on. You gotta feel that juice. That's the best part you gotta feel that Banger boom. You gotta. That's what it's all for. Everything you do is for the juice. People give it all for the juice.

I have this regular fare, this girl she first comes into my cab and the first time I ever pick her up she says to drive to this hotel here. Look you see this hotel. He points out the window to some mega expensive hotel, the Ritz-Carlton or the 4 Seasons, I don't really remember. This girl she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in real life. She is looking as beautiful as even a movie star or Victoria's Secret runway girl, but better. So then she says to take her to that hotel and to wait for 90 minutes until she comes back and I can run the meter. So I worry she isn't coming back but I wait and it's a lot of money on the meter. She comes back and she has me drive her to her apartment and she asks me for my card so I can driver her at the same time next week, and then she gives me on top of the fair she gives me 50 dollars. Now I'm doing this all the time and taking her every week each time to this hotel and finally we talk and she tells me that she is a professional girl and because we are friendly she tells me that the man I take her to pays her 3000 for her 90 minutes of time. I can't believe this is how much money she gets. She tells me that she sees men who make more money in a month than I could fit in the trunk of my cab. These guys pay her sometimes 4000 dollars like it's nothing because they get to bang on her. But do you know why they will pay so much to her? Do you know?"

I have no idea, but I guess. "Because she's stunningly gorgeous and incredibly skilled at sex?"

"Well, I think so, but NO. Why my friend, why? They pay so much because they get to pop the cork on their champagne bottle and it ALL spills right out. They pay that money because they get to feel the juice. When you feel the juice, you know you are the king.

We get to the address of the club and we payed the fare, tipped well for the entertainment and shuffled off to the club like the two little juiceless pawns that we were. And I will always have a special place in my heart for that cab driver.


Wednesday, November 03, 2010

New Last Name

Lately I've been feeling that I need a better last name. There are entirely too many humans who have the same first and last name as me and I need to feel special.

For a while my Aussie friends all called me Kranki, and I quite liked that. These days nobody calls me Kranki in person.

I don't think I could ever change the first name as I'm conditioned to respond to it and it feels right on me. I wonder how people at work would react if I just suddenly had a new last name. I think I read that you can legally change your name to whatever you want without having to go through paperwork as long as you are not trying to defraud anybody.

I'm going to compile a list of potential last names here. Some are terrible and others are worse. Some are friend suggestions and some are my own. Please feel free to suggest one or three.


Bang
Muffin
Loud
Tastic
Burrito
Left
Escaped
Thong-bikini
Truffles
Nasty
Underwater-Kittens
Attack
Pestilence
Mercy
Pedicure
Stickybottom
Crackbaby
Sick
Sevens
DTF
Babydaddy
Swoons