Going Away to New York and bullshit. Just wanna finish this fucking story.

23 Aug

From Last Episode of Bullshit:

I don’t know why Fitzgerald’s but I remember being comfortable there before.  I’m comfortable again now.  “Beer please.”

Ahh, I remember why.  Jimmy the English bartender didn’t make my show in March and now I must present him with free tickets.

“Jimmy doesn’t work here anymore.  He’s moved on.”

I know what that means.  He was fired.  Damn it, Jimmy.  Five beers later, and probably now 20 total calculating from the night before, I meet some new friends.

Chelsea boys.  We talk.  They are crying about their relationship.  Literally, crying.  That’s fine.  Don’t care.  I pay my tab.

I begin to run.  FUCKING RUN.  Cigarette lit.  Running.

I bash a tourist.  Nearly, knock her to the ground: “You know why New Yorker’s are considered assholes?  Just that reason!”

No time for laughter, although I chuckled.  She was face first in her phone and not paying attention.  After she yelled that, the “New Yorkers” started chastising her.  I could hear her say, “I didn’t mean anything.”  They surrounded her like a whore in Bangkok whose taking money and not giving it up.

I make it to Harlem.  Running.  This is where it really gets fun.

To be continued….

I will solve these other stories soon.  They all seem to intertwine.  This is why my life is a cartoon:

*Bar owner beating a handicapped pedestrian with his own cane

*Going away show and late night video

Now NEW BULLSHIT

So now I’m in Harlem.  I’m white.  Harlem.

I’m meeting an old friend from Oregon, who is easily whiter than me.  He’s redhead, muttenchops, ugly, skinny jeans to boot.  He’s hammered.  In Harlem.

LSD.

Harlem.

Loud noises of foreign objects.

Everything sounds like the cocking of guns.

I’m still in the cab.  FUCK!  Bangladesh and me converse I think.  I remember making grunts and handing him change.  I was probably throwing the fistful of shrapnel. I recall some gaining trajectory and becoming unfindable.  I got out and yelled something about Tigers eating people and how Cinncinatti’s Football sucks.

There he is.  The bagpiper of death.  Actually, him and I take it easy now.  Compared to the old, well past, I suppose Older Times, we are fucking Amish.  But LSD.

He has made friends with only the gangsters.  I don’t know if any of them are actually affiliated, but they got colors and certain talk and my retarded friend is now acting black. Literally, fucking LITERALLY, bought a round of Cognac for 7 people.  With no money.  In Harlem.  LSD.  They began to actually embrace him as an individual, he then orders a shot for himself, its placed on the bar, he smiles at me…….”So, Donald Sterling.  He was interesting, huh?”

I need to find a bathroom.  My tracers are so gnarly, I feel like puking.  Big Black Man grabs me.  “Are you ok, Sir?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You look different outside of the Precinct.”

Fuck the bathroom, and fuck you, you readed headed suicidal bastard.

Front door.

Outside.

Ohh yeah.  No cabs in Harlem.  Fuck.

……….Walk who knows how many blocks………..

Popeyes Chicken.  Not fucking joking.  God damn Popeyes Chicken.

I walk through the drive-thru.  I’m following 2 other gentlemen in the endeavour.  Don’t judge me.  I’m high as shit.

First man speaks into the intercom: “You motherfuckas awake?”

I start laughing hysterically.  He turns around like this is a completely legitmate question. The other man, the middle child of this plot, just starts mumbling.  Maybe 5 seconds of mumbling, and then, he yells, “Texas is full of faggots.”  TOP OF HIS LUNGS.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Louder.  Repeat.  FUCK LOUDER.

These people are making me more high.  What the fuck is happening?

Make it back to Washington Heights where I rest the noggin for now.  Go to a Dominican Bar/Restaurant. After a few rums I ask the bartender, whos been smoking hookha along with everyone else at the bar, is hookha a big part of Dominican culture now?  She respondes with, “No, its Arabic.  You know, like Middle Eastern.”

Well, fuck, I know that.  Hence the question.  Then, I got pollo and rice to go.  Pointed in each of their faces as I walked out as I told them bitches to eat right, and went to bed.

Something like that.

*Next time Bar owner/cripple cane

*Going away show…exposing a whore name Laci

 

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