Evidence Of My Last Binge

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First things first my homies and homettes! Wherever you are in this crazy planet of ours, good morning, good afternoon, good evening or good night. Enjoy it to the fullest and don’t let nobody fuck it up for you no matter what goes down.

OK, I must admit, that this shit is fucking funny, yet sad, because even though I have been sober for a little over three weeks, a couple of days ago, my wife was looking for something in my armoire… Why? I don’t know! But she found what I will refer to as, the last evidence of my last weekend binge. OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! I know that by now, my loyal 1.5 readers, might be asking themselves. What the fuck was an empty bottle of beer doing in your armoire Tony? I have to say, that is a good and legitimate question. So here I go.

You see, my wife doesn’t have a problem with me drinking per se, since I only drink on the weekends and at home. But the problem is, that as soon as I have the first beer, all bets are off, because I will start drinking none stop, from Friday evening, all the way to Sunday night. So, since she doesn’t want me drinking on Sundays, I’ll look for any stupid excuse, to go out to the grocery store and buy a couple of beers. The thing is, that I can’t put them in the refrigerator, because she always finds them there and pour them down the drain. So, what are the best places for an alcoholic like me, to hide his beers from his wife? Drum roll please! Armoires, closets, nightstands and laundry hampers. Hey look, don’t laugh, it really took me many, many, many years, many trials an error and a lot of hard work, for me to perfect my hiding skills and eventually, become a professional at hiding alcohol all over the apartment from my wife. Don’t worry my alcoholic brothers and sisters, my book “Agent Double O Alky: How to kill your liver quietly” will be available on Amazon very soon. If you provide your alky card, you will receive a discount on your purchase, so you can buy alcohol with the saved money.

Peace out, and with that said! I am Audi 5000 Y’all!

The Happy Broke Man

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Photo by Negative Space on Pexels.com

First things first my homies and homettes! Wherever you are in this crazy planet of ours, good morning, good afternoon, good evening or good night. Enjoy it to the fullest and don’t let nobody fuck it up for you no matter what goes down.

OK, as my loyal 1.5 readers might know by now, I’m not your average blogger. You know, the type that tries show off to his readers by posting pictures of his expensive vacations, cars, homes and other shits. Reminding his reader time after time, how he is successful, and they are not, because he is living the perfect life with his perfect family. Yet behind the scene, his whole life is falling apart. He’s going through a fucked divorce, because his wife cheated on him with his twin brother. Junior is a drug dealer / drug addict and little Samantha is a stripper / prostitute. He might even be living in a rat, roach and bedbug infested dilapidated motel room, while having cup a soup with cold water from the dirty motel bathroom sink, for breakfast, lunch and dinner, 7 days a week. Hey look, I love cup a soup, but 7 days a week?… that’s just a little too much for me.

Meanwhile, back in The Batcave! Since I had to pay my car insurance last weekend, I am broke like a motherfucker. Yes, you read that right my homies and homettes. This week, I’m one broke son of a bitch! But don’t worry, I’m not asking for donations or a GoFundMe page either. Do you know what’s funny about the entire situation? That I’m happy! Even though I’m broke as broke can be, for some weird reason, since last week, I’ve been feeling happier and smiling more than usual. To be honest with you, I really don’t know what the fuck is going on, since I take my crazy meds every day. Who knows, maybe it’s just the calm before the storm… You know… Before my Bipolar depression sets in and kicks the living shit out of me. Whatever the fuck is going on with my brain right now, I’m riding this shit to the end.

Peace out my homies and homettes!

With that said! I am Audi 5000 y’all!

 

My CLEAN COLON Bill Of Health

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Wednesday February 6, 2019 – Getting ready for The Assman… My colonoscopy.

Sooooo, as probably .5 out of my loyal 1.5 readers might be aware, yesterday I had my first colonoscopy done by The Assman, at my tender age of 49. The good news is… Drum roll please!… I ain’t going nowhere anytime soon SUCKAS! So you better buy a good recliner chair and get very comfortable, because you’ll have to put up with my shit, my crazy, dumb, insane, stupid, weird, none educational, none informative and none helpful posts for a while, because The Assman told me that only “Multiple medium-mouthed diverticula were found in the entire colon. There was no evidence of diverticular bleeding.

I have to say, that I had everybody, and I mean everybody from the receptionist, to the nurse, to the anesthesiologist, to the technician, to The Assman himself, laughing at all of my ass and anal jokes before the procedure. Even right before the anesthesia took effect, I told them “Goodnight, see you in the morning”. Hey, they all agreed with me, that life is way too short, plus nobody makes it out alive anyway. I think that the one that they liked the most was, when I told the anesthesiologist “to make sure that the doctor took all his rings off before he went in, but specially, that he took his watch off. Because I didn’t want him leaving anything behind”.

Oh, before I forget my homies and homettes. While I was in the hospital gown, waiting to be taken to the room for the procedure, for a couple of minutes, I was just sitting there alone, doing nothing. Then my mind started wondering, now if you knew me personally, you would know, that that was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all I tell you. So I had one of what from now on, I will start calling my “Things that make you go… HMMMMM! moment”. So I pulled up my hospital gown and snapped a couple of dick pics, then sent them to my wife while she was waiting for me in the car. Yes, my homies and homettes, even after being married for 31 years, surviving my daughter and son’s crazy teen years and a whole bunch of other stuff, I still have a sense of humor. Hey, at least I put a smile on my wife’s face and made sure that she wasn’t bored while she waited for me. But most important of all, I showed her what she was gonna get later that night… OK! OK! OK! Not literally, because I was weak from not eating solid food for two days and plus I couldn’t do anything strenuous, because an accident could have happened at anytime, you know!… Because of the diarrhea, due to all the liquid that I had to drink!… but as soon as I got my Superman strength back. Which at my age, might take a couple of minuteshours… days… weeksmonthsyearsOh who the fuck am I kidding! after The Assman was done with me, I might not be the same man. NEVER! EVER! EVER!

You know what!? Looking back now. Can you imagine if I didn’t make it through the procedure. The last pictures that my wife would have of me alive, would be me with one thumb up, a smile on my face, pulling up my hospital gown and showing my dick… Even I have to say, that would have been PRICELESS! to show next to my coffin in my funeral.

With that said! I am Audi 5000 y’all!