Saturday, December 30, 2000
So far Happy Drinking Bird has been drinking for 26 hours straight. I'll keep you up dated.
When I got home from the bar I turned on the TV and The Crying Game was on. I started to watch the beginning where Forest Whitaker, who plays an English soldier named Jody gets kidnapped by the Irish Republican Army in the hopes of trading him for one of their volunteers.
Stephen Rea plays Fergus one of the IRA volunteers. Fergus and Jody start to become friends even though they both know Jody will probably be shot soon. Jody tells Fergus this story, I'll be paraphrasing a little:
This scorpion was at the rivers edge and he wanted to cross. A frog was sitting there and the scorpion asked the frog if he would take him across the river. The frog said no because he was afraid that the scorpion would sting him. The scorpion assured the frog that if he stung him they would both drown and it wouldn't be in the scorpion's best interest.
Halfway across the river the frog felt a burning pain in his back and he realized that the scorpion had stung him. Right before they both went under the water the frog asked why the scorpion had stung him. Now they both would drown. The scorpion replied, "I couldn't help it. Its in my nature."
Is it possible for someone to change? I believe its possible. I have seen people go through dramatic changes. But I think that they are exceptions to the rule. I honestly believe that people don't really change.
Don't get me wrong, I don't mean this to include economics. I think people can better their position in life. I just think that the core of the person. The way they think and behave doesn't really change much.
All of my life I have heard that I am such a "nice" guy. I have gotten to the point on several occasions to where I've decided to start becoming more of a dick. But I can't fuckin' do it. Its not in my nature. This isn't to say that there aren't people out there that think I'm a dick. Because there are. When I worked at the Mag friends of mine would occasionally tell me stories about how someone thought I was an asshole. When my friends questioned this they usually admitted that I wouldn't let them in because they didn't have ID. I have my moments of being an asshole but I usually try to be more subtle about it.
I feel like I'm begining to ramble.
Good Night, Good Morning, whatever.
MrQuick 4:57 AM
Friday, December 29, 2000
Jeremiah gave me the Happy Drinking Bird. I really love it. Its a miracle of science. I remember my grandparents having one on the windowsill in their kitchen. I spent a while looking at it and I figured out how it worked. Then I found this site that explains the process in a little more scientific terms.
I realize I sound like a dork but I could watch this thing for hours. Its the closest thing to a perpetual motion machine I ever came across.
I got to go, the bird needs another drink.
Good Night, Good Morning, whatever.
MrQuick 4:06 AM
Thursday, December 28, 2000
When I went home for Christmas I avoided mentioning my website. Now that it has become more of a journal, I really don't want most of my family coming here and seeing what I write. Not that anything is too bad. I just think that if I knew that my entire family was coming to this site I may censor myself more than I already do. Plus I'm not sure how some of the relatives would respond to the topless shots I have. Most of my family are conservative catholics. The only family members of mine that visit regularly are my brothers. That's enough for me.
This isn't a true journal because I do censor myself so much. I realize that there have been times when what I write is so opaque that it hard to tell what I'm talking about. But your just going to have to deal with it.
So the other day I was fucking a dead cat in the alley. Don't worry I was wearing a rubber. Anyway, after about ten minutes my knees started to get cold, you know, being on the icey concrete. Just when I was thinking about quiting the damn cat split on me. I don't mean that she ran off. I mean she split open. It was so gross that I lost my woody.
Good Night, Good Morning, whatever.
MrQuick 2:39 AM
Wednesday, December 27, 2000
Back to the old grind... almost.
Went back to work today, basically the holidays were just my normal weekend. But I got to see two old friends that I haven't seen in years and spent the evening at the Mag with them. It was good to do some more reminiscing. I know I keep saying what a good Christmas this was but it’s the truth. It seems like almost every old friend has stopped by.
So that I don't dwell on Christmas too much I want to tell the story about the only time I really lost my temper when I was working at the Mag.
I was at the corner of the bar as usual by the front door and a friend of mine came up to me from the back room and he told me that there was a guy taking a leak in the back. "What the FUCK!"
I ran to the back and there he was, this guy was still leaning against the wall with his head resting against his arm and a puddle by his feet. I was so fucking mad I just grabbed him by the back of his shirt and turned him toward the front and started moving him through the bar. I don't even know if he was zipped up.
His arms are sort of flailing because I didn't grab them but I got a good hold of his shirt and I kept guiding him with my elbows. We're going through the bar so fast that I don't think anybody really noticed us. The story got blown up that I actually had the guy off the ground. I didn't but I could see how it would look that way.
So, I'm coming up to the door and for a second I thought about reaching a hand out and opening the door but then I thought, "Hell, he's got two arms free he can push it open."
He could have opened the door but he didn't.
His head hit the glass door so hard that I thought a broke the door for a second. Everyone in the bar turned to look at what was going on. I shoved him outside and pulled the door shut. That’s when I noticed his face print on the inside of the door. I walked back to the bar and Mark asked me what he did. I yelled back, "He pissed in the backroom."
Mark of course just shrugged his shoulders gave a quick nod and went back to his work.
The guy stood out side for about another 15 minutes and I finally went out and said, "I don't give a fuck where you go. You can go across the street and pass out as far as I care, but you can't stand in front of this bar."
He then proceeded to walk across the street and lay down on the sidewalk. Where he passed out.
After about another 15 minutes, this guy I know asked if we had any chalk. We did and he ran out and drew a chalk outline around the guy's body.
An hour later, the police noticed him lying there and they stopped and woke him up and sent him on his way home. After the guy got up and walked away, the police looked at the chalk outline and started to laugh. They looked over at the bar and we just stood there and smiled.
Ah, memories.
Good Night, Good Morning, whatever.
MrQuick 4:47 AM
Monday, December 25, 2000
I'm back and all is well.
I had a pretty good Christmas. The biggest drama was that a certian unnamed relative is always the last one to show up and everyone else thought that was "just rude." In my opinion if that is the worst problem your family has then you are doing alright. Everyone is healthy and happy, you can't ask for too much more.
I went to church Christmas Eve. There were a lot of part-time Catholics there. Standing room only. The main reason I mention this is that I saw this beautiful mullet. This woman's mullet was fantastic. The top of her head was feathered. Sort of like Kevin Bacon's hair in most of his movies. The back was down to the middle of her back but she had used this crimping heating iron to give her hair this zigzag effect. I don't think I've seen that effect since the late 80's.
When we got home from church we opened our Christmas presents and then Mom passed out the envelopes. Every year she gives us a little cash, which I enjoy, and every year either one of my brothers or myself, lie and thank Mom for an amount of cash that is double what we actually recieved. So if I got $50 dollars, I thank Mom for the hundred. We all know its a lie and for some reason it always annoys the women folk. So it has become a tradition.
Christmas Day was fun also. My Mom's side of the family is a lot of fun usually. There is always this huge production envolved with the taking of the pictures. First the grandkids, then the the brothers and sisters, then the separate families, then a picture with everyone. There is always talk of "levels" and making sure there are several "levels". Each woman has a camera and they all have to get a picture. But its the first thing we have to do because all of the kids are dressed nice and we need to get it done before they mess themselves up. The entire family picture was almost a disaster when my cousin Ben had disappeared into his room and no one noticed. My Mother and Aunts had spent 10 minutes at least trying to get everyone in position, we had taken a picture and we had almost all walked off until my Uncle Dave noticed Ben was gone. But Ben was found a tragedy was averted.
I do think I am the most twisted person in my family though.
My Mom bought my approximately 14 year-old female cousin a hand-held massager...
I looked at my brothers who have their moments when it comes to being twisted, but they didn't flinch. Don't get me wrong. The massager didn't look phallic in anyway. It looked kind of like a softball that was flat on one side and elongated. Colored like a bumble bee. I guess people actually do buy "massagers" to give massages but that is not the first thing I think of. Ok. Ok. I'm a freak.
BTW. When you wait 6 hours to smoke a cigarette because you know your mother doesn't want to see you smoke, it tastes really, really, really good. I mean really.
Well I just got in and I'm heading down to the Mag. I know several of my friends probably didn't have quite as pleasant a Christmas as I did and they will be looking to drink.
Good Night.
{Post Script}
I just got back from the Mag and I had a great time. There were so many people there that I don't see very often and I may not see again for a while. Even if I didn't get a chance to talk to them much it was great to be able to look over and see them talking to someone, having a good time. Just knowing that they were there.
This has been a good Christmas.
Good Night, Good Morning, Merry Christmas.
MrQuick 11:51 PM
Sunday, December 24, 2000
Twas the night before Christmas and I should be snuggled in bed.
With visions of family obligations dancing in my head.
Well everything is wrapped and ready to go.
I finished my laundry and I am moving slow.
I should be back Christmas night.
See you at the Mag if everything goes alright.
I can truthfully say this poem blows.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night.
MrQuick 5:06 AM
///
///