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Archive for April 2009

Tony Robbins Infomercial Stripper

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When it comes to strippers, surely you’ve been the person, were with the person, knew a person or heard about someone who uttered the phrase, “I think she really liked me”. The key for a stripper to make money, a lot of money, is to make each of her customers feel special. This is even harder than it sounds, (no pun intended). Think about trying to make people feel special individually while they’re all in the same room, sometimes even sitting next to one another.

 

“Nothing good ever happens at three o’clock in the morning.” – Every mother in America.

 

I know you’ve heard this one. There’s just something odd about the way the brain works in the wee hours of the morning. Even if you’re not snorting lines off the back of a toilet or engaging in physical debauchery, there is a certain cloud that hovers above one’s head, a certain metaphysical contact high if you will.

 

Regardless of who or what you are, we all want to be special. If you’ve achieved this mindset and believe that you are special, then congratulations you’re among the 0.001% of the world. For the rest of us, there is always this little, teeny, tiny, speck that makes us feel all alone. We want to be wowed into feeling miraculous. We need someone to inspire us to be great.

 

Now, take all of the above and sit your ass in front of the television at three o’clock in the morning and flip the channels until you stop on the Tony Robbins infomercial. It’s glorious. He seems so happy and smart. He’s so successful and tan. Anyone that tall that doesn’t play basketball and is successful must be the greatest person alive.

 

I wasn’t even sure what he was selling, but celebrity after celebrity continued to tell me how wonderful Tony was and how he changed their life forever. Not only did their lives change, but it was for the better. Some of the spokesmodels were so famous I didn’t even know who they were. But I wasn’t going to allow that to slow me down, in fact it made me think I needed to be more proactive and get to know more celebrities.

 

Even without ordering the product I did feel fired up, inspired. I wanted to get active, get moving, to make things happen and I did just that. Although it was hard, I did what needed to be done.

 

I got up, turned off the television and went to bed. Thanks Tony! I might have sat there all night without you.

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

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April 30, 2009 at 3:11 am

Conclusion Confusion

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This is the final part of my ongoing series.

Please read:

Part 1 – I Fell Down and Hit My Head

Part 2 – Revenge Set For Picnic

Part 3 – Havoc Ensues

Part 4 – Enter the Fuzz

Part 5 – Locked Down In Lockup

Part 6 – Pay A Little Visit

Part 7 – Plot Thickens

The story so far: Being made fun of at work by my co-workers after I was victimized by an office prank/accident, I got angry and sought revenge by dosing everyone at the company picnic with LSD laced brownies. Just as everyone was starting to freak out and have fun, the cops showed up and arrested me. I spent the night in jail and was released with a court date. I discovered that Mike was out to get me. I went to confront him and discovered him dead in his bedroom. I discover Mike was hiding negatives of candid, nude photographs of Amanda. I go to confront her and hopefully get a few answers about what’s going on.

 

On my way over to Amanda’s, I had this surreal thought. All of this has been happening extremely fast. One event pours into another. I can’t remember when the last time I slept or ate or even went to the bathroom. It makes this seem impossible. As I concluded my mental interlude, I was pulling up to Amanda’s. Her house was extraordinarily nice. Big with a well kept lawn and landscaping obviously done by professionals. As I walked up to the door, I kept thinking, as I coveted her spread, “How can someone who works where I work afford all of this?”

 

I knocked on the door. A midget answered wearing a maid’s outfit with the addition of an “alien, spring antenna, Styrofoam ball headband“. It was quite dashing and a true fashion statement I thought. “Is Amanda available?” I asked. “Yes, but I doubt that you’re her type” he replied. “That may very well be, but perhaps I could just speak with her?” “Very well,” he shrugged and opened the door. As a walked in a giant butterfly made out of aluminum cans whizzed by my head. “She is in the study” the midget said, pointing me in the direction. “The study? Who has a study, or calls it that anyway?” I thought to myself. I opened the door and entered a room that was the size of a high school gymnasium. The floor was covered from wall to wall with windup monkeys crashing cymbals. They were all going off at once and I immediately felt a panic attack coming over me from the stress caused by all the racket.

 

Amanda was sitting on a pink, fluffy, chase lounge in the middle of the room. I think she asked me something, but I couldn’t understand her over the monkeys. I walked over to her and asked, “What?!” “What are you doing here!” she screamed. “I wanted to ask you what your connection to Mike was!” I yelled back. “What?!” she replied. I repeated myself. “What are you talking about?” she asked loudly. “I found pictures of you naked at Mike’s house. He’s dead by the way. Does that surprise you?” I shouted. All of this excessively loud talking was giving me a headache. My head was pounding with fury and anger. “Do you feel OK? You look kind of sick” she asked. Now that she mentioned it, I was feeling rather peculiar. “I’m sorry about the brownies.” I said. “What brownies?” she asked. “The brownies at the party, the ones I brought, that I made” I replied. “What’s wrong with you?” she said and closed a door that appeared out of nowhere. I turned around and found myself in an alley lying behind a dumpster.

 

I thought for a moment… I remember mixing the brownie batter… I licked the spoon and poured the batter into the pans… I put the pans into the oven and set the timer… I went and turned on the television… OH NO! I licked the spoon! It’s a force of habit… I wasn’t thinking… I never made it to the picnic. This is the alley behind my apartment building. I looked up and noticed smoke rolling out of my apartment window.

 

No. NO. NO! The brownies are burning. I ran upstairs as quickly as I could, but it was too late. My apartment was completely engulfed with flames and the fire department was on their way. I walked back outside and joined my fellow tenants watching the action. The fire men put out the flames before they could do much damage to any other apartments, (except the one below mine that had water leaking in from the ceiling).

 

One piece of good luck was that the fire was ruled an accident and you can’t prosecute stupidity. Also the fire burned up any evidence of LSD so I was safe on that charge too.

 

I sat on the curb and thought of my new homeless life and where it would go. Then I thought, “Wow, all this over a banana peel.”

 

THE END (thank goodness)

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

April 29, 2009 at 4:18 am

The Plot Thickens

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This is part seven of an ongoing series.

Please read:

Part 1 – I Fell Down and Hit My Head

Part 2 – Revenge Set For Picnic

Part 3 – Havoc Ensues

Part 4 – Enter the Fuzz

Part 5 – Locked Down In Lockup

Part 6 – Pay A Little Visit

The story so far: Being made fun of at work by my co-workers after I was victimized by an office prank/accident, I got angry and sought revenge by dosing everyone at the company picnic with LSD laced brownies. Just as everyone was starting to freak out and have fun, the cops showed up and arrested me. I spent the night in jail and was released with a court date. I discovered that Mike was out to get me. I went to confront him and discovered him dead in his bedroom.

 

I’ve often heard that only the guilty run, but my guess is whom ever coined that phrase wasn’t standing over a dead body after being knocked out, coming to and having no idea how the body arrived at being dead. Who shot Mike and why? I lifted, or rather slightly rolled Mike over with my foot. The bullet path looked like it traveled from his chin to his forehead, just grazing his face, but not a fatal shot.

 

I walked into Mike’s office, the place where he had confronted me originally. I frantically looked around. I felt like the cops were probably on their way and going to jail two days in a row was not my idea of fun. I noticed a bookshelf knocked over and an impact impression in the side of the wall in the shape of a human head with a little bit of blood. It had to be my blood. I punched the wall and pulled off the piece with the blood on it and put it in my pocket. I looked up at the ceiling and noticed a blood splatter and a hole. I looked down and noticed several electrical cords draped along the floor. I felt satisfied, so I took off. There was no way I was sticking around to try and explain this to the cops.

 

Outside, I was amazed at how I wasn’t in police custody by now. How was it that nobody heard that gun fire? I hopped in my car and drove to Wade’s house, a friend of mine. On the way over I pieced together what I thought probably happened. Mike pulled the gun; I tried to take it from him, tripped on the electrical cords and hit my head on the bookshelf and then the wall knocking myself out. The bookshelf fell onto Mike and in effort to shield himself, he must have shot himself in the face somehow. He probably went to the bathroom to look at what he had done and either passed out from the sight of it or from blood loss and bled out on the floor.

 

I went to Wade’s house because not only is he’s a good friend, but he’s also a photography enthusiast with a darkroom in his basement. I gave him the negatives and thirty minutes later we were looking at pictures of the naked woman. Turns out it was Amanda in the pictures and these weren’t the kind that she was voluntarily posing for either. Those usually don’t have blinds and windows frames in the shot.

 

What was going on here? Why would Mike have pictures of Amanda nude, which he obviously took while hiding in the bushes. He seemed so normal and nice, the last guy you’d figure for a peeking, picture snapping, pervert.

 

It felt like I didn’t have much of a choice, I had to confront Amanda.

 

(to be continued tomorrow)

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

April 28, 2009 at 3:29 am

Pay A Little Visit

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This is part six of an ongoing series.

Please read:

Part 1 – I Fell Down and Hit My Head

Part 2 – Revenge Set For Picnic

Part 3 – Havoc Ensues

Part 4 – Enter the Fuzz

Part 5 – Locked Down In Lockup

The story so far: Being made fun of at work by my co-workers after I was victimized by an office prank/accident, I got angry and sought revenge by dosing everyone at the company picnic with LSD laced brownies. Just as everyone was starting to freak out and have fun, the cops showed up and arrested me. I spent the night in jail and was released with a court date. I discovered that Mike was out to get me.

 

There must be something to anger and rage that makes someone act and feel like a hormonal woman. After hearing Mike’s message and the joy in his voice for my life heading down the drain expediently, the rage inside burned so hot that I became teary eyed. Thoughts and feeling flashed and buzzed in and around my head. I felt dizzy and nauseous and experienced sensations of bugs or flesh eating chemicals being sprayed on my skin. I think I actually stood up and stand down six times in a row. I was insane.

 

This seemed like the perfect time to pay Mike a little visit. Guess this is the one time I’m glad that my office makes you submit your address and distributes “employee lists”. I drove over to Mike’s house in what felt like an instant. I don’t remember traffic lights or even getting out of the car. I went from my living room to Mike’s porch without blinking. He wasn’t home. What’s an angry, crazed, out on bail, unemployed guy to do? Break in the door of course. Surprisingly, Mike really wasn’t home.

 

I started riffling through his stuff. I’m not really sure why. Did I think I’d find a confession letter or a note explaining to me why Mike, for what I know to be without reason, is trying to destroy me? I was throwing papers, pulling out drawers, over turning furniture when a sound that I never heard before in real life, but am completely familiar with, came from behind my head. It was Mike and a cocked pistol. “What are you doing here?! Why are you in my house?!”

 

It’s funny, you know? When you watch action movies, especially the cheesy ones, you have moments where you make fun of what’s going on. You say things like, “That’s so fake. No one would ever do that. Like he’d just be able to turn around and grab the gun.” The last thing you ever think is, “If I’m ever in that situation, I’m going to try that.”

 

This was one of those fake Hollywood moments. I turned around slowly, with my hands half way into the air. I was talking nonsense, stalling as I rotated with caution. When I was about 75% complete, I leaped at Mike and the gun.

 

When I came to my head was throbbing. Looking down I saw my pants had blood all over them. I reached up and felt my head. It was wet and the size of the bump felt like Minnesota. I guess I didn’t manage to wrangle the gun from Mike. Speaking of which, he was gone. I pulled my self up and stumbled into the bathroom. The mirror revealed that I had gotten my ass pistol whipped pretty good by Mike. I tried to cleanup as best and as fast as I could. I was on my way out when a broken picture frame caught my eye. I bent down to investigate. Behind some picture of an old lady, (Mike’s mom?) there was a 5” x 7” manila envelope. Inside were negatives. Held up to the light they looked like pictures of a nude woman. I tuned my head to look around, a natural reaction when looking at negatives of naked women I guess. In doing that, I could see down the hall and what looked to be a foot sticking out from the doorway of a bedroom. I got up and went to check. I discovered Mike in a pool of blood lying dead on the floor.

 

Can you say, “Oh Shit”?

 

(to be continued tomorrow)

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

April 27, 2009 at 3:36 am

Locked Down In Lockup

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This is part five of an ongoing series.

Please read:

Part 1 – I Fell Down and Hit My Head

Part 2 – Revenge Set For Picnic

Part 3 – Havoc Ensues

Part 4 – Enter the Fuzz

The story so far: Being made fun of at work by my co-workers after I was victimized by an office prank/accident, I got angry and sought revenge by dosing everyone at the company picnic with LSD laced brownies. Just as everyone was starting to freak out and have fun, the cops showed up and arrested me.

 

Waking up in jail is something that no one can prepare you for. There are no classes or seminars that offer a holding cell preparation course, but if there is I’ve never heard of them.

 

You might think that it’d be difficult to fall asleep on a strange, hard, cold, wooden, bench surrounded by felons and deviants. Turns out that falling asleep is actually a great way to escape the fact that your freedom has been stripped from you and that you’re being forced to stay in a glass room with twenty-five strangers that’s the size of and smells exactly like a truck stop bathroom.

 

The morning came and one by one, twenty-five of my new best friends and I were taken one at a time to talk to a camera in an even smaller room. From what I understand there was a judge on the other side, either that or the monitor next to the camera was tuned to Judge Hatchett. When my time came around I was amazed at the fact that I had little interaction with the judge, nor any questions or answers to mess with. The judge rattled off some charges against me and told me I was released on bail, to be tried at a later date.

 

To make things worse, you can not bail yourself out of jail if you don’t have the money. I can’t think of anything worse than calling your father, when you’re a grown man, begging him to post bail for you. Trying to whisper things on the phone like, “I’ll pay you back, I swear,” can be rather difficult as well as embarrassing.

 

Once outside the “holding tank”, standing in the sunlight of a new day, breathing the fresh air and being free to walk about was a very short-lived joy. Getting into the car with my father felt like putting on a wool coat in the middle of the summer. I knew that this stint on the outside was temporary and that I’d be going back to court soon. Having that hang over my head combined with the disappointment of my father made for a very long ride home. He dropped me off and sped away having never uttered a word.

 

Inside the answering machine had four messages blinking. The first and second were from my mother. The first being a slew of curse words and yelling, the latter fits of uncontrollable crying and hysterical mumbling. The third one was from Debra in human resources telling me that I no longer had a job and that I could pick up my personal effects at the security desk during normal business hours. She even let me know what those hours were, as if to try and make it seem like I had never been to our office, or their office as I guess it was now. This all seemed normal to me. I knew my mother would be crushed and I knew that I’d be fired, but I didn’t expect the fourth message…

 

It was from Mike. “Hey, how’s it going? Probably not so good for you, huh? Isn’t life funny? Sometimes things just don’t work out the way we want them to. You can’t say that this is a surprise, you knew you had this coming.”

 

Yes Mike I can say that and no I didn’t know I had this coming! What the hell was he talking about? Why was Mike out to get me and why did he succeed at so well?

 

At this point I had never been so freaked out, uncertain about the future and confused about what to do next, ever in my life. One thing is for sure, this is far from over.

 

(to be continued tomorrow)

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Enter the Fuzz

with 6 comments

This is part four of an ongoing series.

Please read:

Part 1 – I Fell Down and Hit My Head

Part 2 – Revenge Set For Picnic

Part 3 – Havoc Ensues

The story so far: Being made fun of at work by my co-workers after I was victimized by an office prank/accident, I got angry and sought revenge by dosing everyone at the company picnic with LSD laced brownies. Just as everyone was starting to freak out and have fun, the cops showed up.

 

It would seem to me, although I have no evidence to back up my theory, that never in the history of the “office picnic” have the cops ever showed up. This is definitely not something I took in account when I originally planned my revenge. I must say, you haven’t lived a full life until you’ve been at an acid party with a wide variety of people doing an even bigger variety of activities and six police officers standing at the door with their jaws on the floor. Honestly, how could you prepare yourself for a room full of white-collar weirdoes baked out on hallucinogenics?

 

Needless to say, I was slightly scared out of my whits by the presence of the police. I knew that this would somehow turn out bad for me. I started to think that maybe I should stand up and exude some kind of “psychedelic behavior” as a means to blend in with my peers. You know, an “I’m innocent, I had nothing to do with this, I’m a victim too” kind of thing. Before I could really even finish my thought I observed Mike greeting the officers of the law. He exchanged a few words with who I guess was “The Captain” of the force. Then, at the same time, they looked over as Mike pointed his finger straight at me. I didn’t know your heart could stop so suddenly and for so long without death actually occurring.

 

The cops walked over and surrounded me. In hindsight I guess I should have taken this as complimentary to my machismo. What was I going to do, go all PCP on them? Although that’d be the best damn bar stool story ever, “Did I ever tell you ‘bout the time I beat the shit out of six cops?” Anyway, they surrounded me and The Captain just looked at me in silence for a moment. I wonder if he was waiting to see if I’d blurt out something. Finally he spoke, “You. Outside.” It wasn’t much, but it was very powerful. I felt the strength of his words in my groin. Walking out, I caught sight of Mike smirking at me as though his plan had worked. Uncontrollably, words came forth from my mouth reminiscent to every action movie I’d ever seen. Still to this day I can’t believe I said those words, “Laugh it up, but when I get out, I’m coming for you.” Just like in the movies, that wiped the joy from his face.

 

Outside, some officers were talking to other party-goers and an ambulance was pulling up, (talk about overreacting). I saw a cop walking to the car with my brownie pans in plastic bags. This had gone south and quick! The Captain had corralled me over to the side of his cruiser. He just let me lean against it as he continued with his staring tactic. After another long moment of silence, he offered up more powerful words. “You got anything to say?” “Like what,” I replied. “OK, turn around,” he said. As I heard the jingle of the cuffs he began reading me my Miranda rights.

 

It was official, this party sucked.

 

 

(to be continued tomorrow)

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

April 25, 2009 at 5:30 am

Havoc Ensues

with 2 comments

This is part three of an ongoing series.

Please read: Part 1-I Fell Down and Hit My Head and Part 2-Revenge Set For Picnic.

The story so far: Being made fun of at work by my co-workers after I was victimized by an office prank/accident, I got angry and sought revenge by dosing everyone at the company picnic with LSD laced brownies.

 

Have you ever had that moment when the thought crosses your mind, “I should have thought this through a little more”? I was still about an hour away from that. As my co-workers inhaled the brownies and I waited patiently, counting the seconds for something to happen, Amanda came over to talk to me. It was uncommon for anyone to ever seek out conversation involving me, but Amanda was like having a rock star play your birthday party. She sat down by me and said, “I heard you brought the brownies.” “Yep” I replied. “They kind of tasted funny” she stated as matter of fact. “It sure didn’t seem that way when you were stuffing your face” I said to myself. “I mean they were good,” she babbled, as though she was aware of how she must have sounded right then, “I didn’t mean funny bad. I guess I’m just use to my mom’s recipe. She uses all white flour and only the egg yolks. I think she might add a dab of sour cream, but it’s been awhile since…” Amanda rattled on and on. I found it difficult to even pretend I was listening. Eventually I gave up and just stared off in space, but this didn’t seem to deter her at all. Her incessant yakking almost made me forget what was happening until she uttered the phrase, “Is it hot in here to you?” Followed by, “I’m burning up. Did you hear that? What was that? What’s wrong with my voice? Are the lights flickering?” She stood up and walked off. Even with the psycho-hallucinogenic in her blood stream, Amanda was back to normal in the fact that I was unimportant and invisible.

 

After she was gone I looked around the room. Several of my peers were suffering from the same “heat issues” as Amanda. Everyone except Dave and Paul were fighting the effects of the brownies, desperately trying to understand the changes going on around them, clutching at excuses and reasoning as to why they felt the way they did. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Dave and Paul were starting to take off their clothes. Both of them were giggling and acting as though they were having a pretty good time. After Paul got down to his boxers, he began dipping his hands into the Jell-O salad and rubbing it on his face and chest. Dave was dancing in the middle of the room in his tighty-whiteys, despite there being no music. I don’t know if seeing Dave and Paul gave the others the reassurance they needed to accept what was happening to them to be “OK” or if seeing the two of them enjoying themselves was just inspiration, but the party really started to get moving.

 

At this point everyone was pretty much “trippin’-balls”. Several people were dancing, a food fight had broken out, someone was working the light switch to give the room a strobe effect, one lady sat on the floor crying, a couple of guys were dry humping various items of furniture, and Sam from maintenance was making balloon animals. Where he got the balloons is a total mystery.

 

This wasn’t just entertaining, it was the perfect revenge. I had gotten these people like no one had ever done before. They’d never be able to get me back. Who could top this? Best of all it seemed like no was even concerned about what was going on or who caused it.

 

I sat back and interlaced my fingers as I placed my hands behind my head. Ironically it was at that very moment the police showed up.

 

(to be continued tomorrow)

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

April 24, 2009 at 6:04 am