If you are reading this because I left a funny comment in some other blog, don't expect this blog to be as funny

No matter how funny my blogs are I am pretty sure they are going to keep me from getting hired. That and my two year work gap on my resume. I don't know why unemployed blogger/part time amateur poker player is not viewed as serious experience, but it ain't.

Most of you are reading this from work, so I don't think employed people are all that more "productive" than me. Otherwise you'd be the ones making funny as shit up and then typing into a computer.

Imagine all the money you'd be making. Not as much as winning all your money on the river in Splash Pots at Texas Hold'em. But serious money nonetheless.

I forgot to tell Jeramey Happy Birthday. But since he doesn't read this blog it won't help to say it here. He doesn't read the blog even though he has starred in like 6 or 7 blog posts. If anybody wrote about me that much I 'd make damn sure to read that blog. I just joke about being Ghetto. Because Jeramey never reads, I guess Jeramey really is ghetto.

Though there is no way of knowing if I just told the truth about that statement is there? Maybe I just sit at home all day listening to podcasts that feature a guy reading gay incest dick cheese and scat stories all day.

But you're kind of scared about the truth in that statement aren't you?

If you meet a Wangster and it's a 19 year old blonde girl. Trust me. She's as hard as she says she is.

Things are looking up again. If you had gotten used to my new posting pattern then you might be worried that I wasn't posting daily anymore. And wondered what I was up to.

Don't. I was just out of cola. When I am out of cola I can't function.

Speaking of people who barely fuction I "hung" out with Jeramey and his friends the other night. Which means I stayed at home and his friends got high on the reefer in my garage. I didn't mind it that much since my stepmom and dad were visiting and I needed help entertaining them.

One of those entertainers wanted to get a tattoo.

"I want to get a tattoo." She might have looked like the new Britney Spears, but she had been to Jail plenty. Enough that she wanted to get a tattoo that read "Fuck the Po-lice." Why?

"Because anytime you go to jail the cops ask if you have any tattoos."

Good one.

You are probably thinking that a girl like that needs to get a good plan together for her life. But I've got to admire anyone who has that much of a hold on their lives.

If you know you life is going to be spent answering assenine questions to the police in holding tanks it's good to have ready-made-answers like FUCK THE PO-LICE!

Jeramey has an alter ego. Meet Cody.

"They took everything away from me. My cars, my house, my things. They even put my dogs down."

I think one of his eyes made contact with me. I wished his teeth hadn't. His black eye peas were spitting at me distracting me from watching another Rockets 4th quarter collapse.

Luther Head just fouled off the ball with under 2 minutes to play. I can't believe you can make that kind of bone-headed play and still call yourself a professional, Luther.

"I got 2 more days before I go back in. I'll be going in for 7 to 9 months."

Where is my brother? He's in the bathroom cleaning off the 3 gallons of puke from his shirt. Before Cody and Jeramey walked in with their puke stained jeans and shirts I got excited because Jenny walked in the house alone.

She was talkative. Flushed from drinking. When I got up to get myself a beer she kept talking to me. She seemed unusually interested in speaking to me. I think it was the first time that she intitiated a conversation with me.

I guess she was preparing me for the amount of puke I was going to see on Jeramey. She mentioned she once puked on her steering wheel while driving home. "Puked all over it." And kept driving. She's a trooper like that.

"Well that sucks for you."

I did my best to affect some sympathy in my voice. Then turned my head to address Cody.

"Why did they put your dogs down?" I hate to admit it, but I was curious why the cops put his dogs down.

"They put the dogs down because they tried to bite the cops when they came to arrest me."
"Well that makes sense." I reply.

Cody is not nearly as excited about the game as I am. Cody wants to discuss why his previous trip to prison lasted 18 days.

"Last time I was in I got 5 day. Then I hit a {expletive deleted} and got 5 more days. When they finally put me in the general population I saw the {expletive deleted again} and kicked his ass again. So I got 9 more days."

"So you don't mind going back to jail then?" I ask.

"Not at all. It don't bother me a bit. I've been to Juvenile for 3 years. I've been to jail lots in my life."

I am sure you have. But I have no intention of leaving with you when you're finally done cleaning the puke off and leave. I don't really want to get drunk with you. I think you're kinda scary. And I hang out in dive bars all the time. So I think I know why I am scared.

Go ahead and take Jenny with you. She'll drive off in her Mustang with her passed out boyfriend on the passenger side.

This post is dedicated to how effective Smush Parker can be in the second half and overtime.

I Don't Want To be "U" Tubed

It didn't take Jeramey long to get over his failure to get me out of the house. Instead Jeramey brought the Real Palmetto here. To my house.

At least that is how I will describe the Redneck boxing matches that took place today. My Pops decided he would rather go back to the Fifth Wheel than take a chance that our illegal boxing show couldn't get us arrested.

To the lady holding the Video Camera I can only say, "I don't wish to be You Tubed."

After editing out any of the clips that accidentaly get me in the shot, I will post said video.

That's right. I just said it. I will be posting redneck boxing matches that were held out in front of my home.

Somebody shoot me.

Meet Jeramey. Jeramey likes to steal my couch when I live blog for you. Jeramey is an enemy of Democracy.

"Jeremy" is also the enemy of my good sleep. I put Jeremy in quotes because that is the pseudonym my littlest brother uses in the hood. Cuz you really don't want anyone to know your name when you're doing business out there.

I should have also put "sleep" in quotes as a good nights rest on a couch is probably an oxymoron. A reader of mine wanted to be me for just one day. Believe me, one day would be enough.

You're probably thinking that if your life was exactly like the TV show 2 and Half Men your life would be pretty glamorous. I mean everything sounds glamorous when it is on TV. I live with my two brothers just like on TV.

Only I we don't live in a mansion. Neither of my brothers are rich. And the only chicks that stalk us aren't all that hot.

My middle brother is like the Charlie character and I guess that makes me kinda like the nerdy Alan. And that makes an almost 30 year old little brother a fat prepubescent kid.

Only you're not fat, Jeramey.

I told Jeramey that I was gonna write a book and he might be a character in it. He seemed excited at first. Like 60% of the population he believes his life story should be made into a book. But after thinking it over, he quickly became apprehensive.

"Can that Jeramey have all his teeth?"

Of course he can't. Who wants to read about a Jeramey with all his teeth? Pearl Jam did that all to death a while back. Nobody wants to read about a redneck Jeramey who steals his brothers "long" couch when he is out protecting Democracy.

They want to read about the toothless "Jeramey" who invents a second persona for his wacky adventures in the 'hood.

I know Jeramey you'd rather sleep on the floor than sleep on the love seat i.e. the short couch, but that doesn't give you the right to commanderie my lovely long-couch.

Even if it is 2 am and I still haven't moved my ass from the computer to the "bed."

Of course I really don't have to worry about either one of my brothers reading this, as both have told me they can't make it past 2 paragraphs down of any written word. Even if it involves one of them. Even if this is source material for the greatest novel in the world.