just got Chappelle's Show Season One on DVD. Damn, that shit is hot. hot, hot, hot, hot, hot! H-O-T! It's so hot, when I pick it up, it burns my fuckin fingers.
My step mom went out of town today, so I spent the afternoon kickin around town with my old man. We even went on base and bought some super cheap liquor (as in 1/4 what it costs off base, and I got some good cigars and a bottle of wine I was told they no longer made...just so happens to be my favorite!
), and ended up swinging by the driving range to knock around some balls. I could be a damn good player, good enough to go pro, I just don't have the heart for it. All the pros I've ever played with/known have encouraged me to take a shot at my card (PGA), but I dunno. I put down the clubs for six, seven months until I'm so rusty it takes me three days at the range to get the ball to go straight again, and then I'm golden, but I bore of the game so quickly. My big problem, is I used to play too much baseball. I was taking pro lessons when I was very young for golf, cause my Dad was friends with a lot of local and retired PGA golfers who adored me, but I always try to murder the ball. And I tend to pull real hard too, cause when I used to play ball I would purposefully change which direction I hit the ball in depending on how the outfielder's were setup and how I'd been hitting earlier in the game (if I bounced a ball off the back fence twice in right field, then the third time I'd pull hard and send the ball into left field to get me an extra base).
My strep throat is a lot better today, but my heart is worse. It's just going to slow, to the point that it's almost painful (yes, a slow heart is painful). I better stop fucking around, or I'll end up with a pace maker like the old man. Course, if I get a pace maker, I could probably start smoking reefer again, but that would lead to all kinds of other shit I don't even want to fuck with anymore.
Well, I'm gonna have to stay in my apartment for one more month. Or, at least pay for one more month. I fucked up and didn't send out these letters when I should have (fucking strep throat) and now if I move out, it's going to SERIOUSLY fuck up my business. While I'm not overly concerned with that, the fact that it will SERIOUSLY fuck up my getting paid is worth the extra $500 in rent.
Also, my best friend left town today, heading back to his base. He said he'd work on getting back down here the third week of April so we could shoot down to the Navy base in Corpus Christi and get us a boat and spend a week fishing, since in all likelihood we won't see each other again for a very long time (he's gonna be out of the country for the better part of a year, and God knows what's going to happen with my work situation). I still want his fucking car. I did this insane U-turn spinning both tires so fast that I disappeared in a cloud of white smoke in front of a parked cop car (with cop) across the street from a taco place at 2:00AM this morning. I didn't see the cop, but when my buddy said, very casually, "There's a cop there" and I heard the siren, I gunned the engine. Luckily I had the drop on him, so I shot down the highway, took the median (much to my friend's dismay! lol, his car is like three inches off the fucking ground) and disappeared into a new subdivision, came out on another highway heading towards the sticks, and disappeared into the night without arrest. God bless fast cars and the idiot friends who let me drive them.
My step mom went out of town today, so I spent the afternoon kickin around town with my old man. We even went on base and bought some super cheap liquor (as in 1/4 what it costs off base, and I got some good cigars and a bottle of wine I was told they no longer made...just so happens to be my favorite!
), and ended up swinging by the driving range to knock around some balls. I could be a damn good player, good enough to go pro, I just don't have the heart for it. All the pros I've ever played with/known have encouraged me to take a shot at my card (PGA), but I dunno. I put down the clubs for six, seven months until I'm so rusty it takes me three days at the range to get the ball to go straight again, and then I'm golden, but I bore of the game so quickly. My big problem, is I used to play too much baseball. I was taking pro lessons when I was very young for golf, cause my Dad was friends with a lot of local and retired PGA golfers who adored me, but I always try to murder the ball. And I tend to pull real hard too, cause when I used to play ball I would purposefully change which direction I hit the ball in depending on how the outfielder's were setup and how I'd been hitting earlier in the game (if I bounced a ball off the back fence twice in right field, then the third time I'd pull hard and send the ball into left field to get me an extra base).
My strep throat is a lot better today, but my heart is worse. It's just going to slow, to the point that it's almost painful (yes, a slow heart is painful). I better stop fucking around, or I'll end up with a pace maker like the old man. Course, if I get a pace maker, I could probably start smoking reefer again, but that would lead to all kinds of other shit I don't even want to fuck with anymore.
Well, I'm gonna have to stay in my apartment for one more month. Or, at least pay for one more month. I fucked up and didn't send out these letters when I should have (fucking strep throat) and now if I move out, it's going to SERIOUSLY fuck up my business. While I'm not overly concerned with that, the fact that it will SERIOUSLY fuck up my getting paid is worth the extra $500 in rent.
Also, my best friend left town today, heading back to his base. He said he'd work on getting back down here the third week of April so we could shoot down to the Navy base in Corpus Christi and get us a boat and spend a week fishing, since in all likelihood we won't see each other again for a very long time (he's gonna be out of the country for the better part of a year, and God knows what's going to happen with my work situation). I still want his fucking car. I did this insane U-turn spinning both tires so fast that I disappeared in a cloud of white smoke in front of a parked cop car (with cop) across the street from a taco place at 2:00AM this morning. I didn't see the cop, but when my buddy said, very casually, "There's a cop there" and I heard the siren, I gunned the engine. Luckily I had the drop on him, so I shot down the highway, took the median (much to my friend's dismay! lol, his car is like three inches off the fucking ground) and disappeared into a new subdivision, came out on another highway heading towards the sticks, and disappeared into the night without arrest. God bless fast cars and the idiot friends who let me drive them.
[Edited on Mar 27, 2005 9:52PM]