Tuesday, December 2, 2014

To save a little cash

To save a little cash, I decided to drive my Van from Denver to my new home in Southern California.

A thousand mile journey...A LIFETIME OF DISCOMFORT!!!  

My Sweet Ass Chevy Grand Caravan, that my wife just HAD to have for one road trip three years ago, was packed to the gills. (in a Not-So-Orderly Fashion)...Like really not-so-orderly. So not-so-orderly that when I took it to get a fresh oil change, the Jiffy Lube register girl was surprised that I was able to give her a HOME address. She laughed as she said, "I thought you were homeless with all that junk in your car."

Funny, I didn't find that so hysterical. I don't think anyone would be AMUSED to have the look of someone who's bottoming out in life. I knew I should've shave that day.

I took off on my 1000 mile, 2 day journey with enough caffeine and candy bars to make a Koala break dance.

It was a burning hot, late summer day in Denver, so the first thing I did was roll up the windows and crank up the AC. After about 9 seconds of what felt like a big dog breathing on me, I realized, MUCH TO MY CHAGRIN, that I would not be enjoying the benefits of an Air Conditioner on this trip.

I coughed up enough cuss words to make pimps in Deadwood go to confession before I had even left Denver Proper.

It was so hot that I drank all of my super caffeinated soda within the first hour of my trip. So I was ridiculously hot and now wired out of my mind.

Did you know that twitching and fidgeting creates more sweat?

For hours I felt like I was going through Smack withdrawals in my van. I was miserably hot, jumpy, and in great need of a shower, but I thought that I could stay awake forever. It wasn't until I entered The Middle Of Nowhere Utah that all the caffeine I drank at the beginning of the trip had worn off. Now I was crashing. I couldn't hold my eyes open.

I know it's dangerous to drive when you're that tired, but I also know that it's dangerous to sleep on the shoulder of a desolate road. I just pictured myself waking up in my car and saying, "What a great little nap...where are my clothes?...how did you get in my van?...(stab stab stab)

I took my chances on the road.

After waking up to the sound of roadside ridges for the 1000th time, I got to an exit sign that said, "Lodging next exit" and noticed a Motel 6 sign. I began thanking any higher power that had something to do with me making it to a safe place with a cold shower.

I've traveled the country a number of times and I've never seen a Motel 6 that wasn't open. Tom Bodett had not left the light on. Thankfully right next door, I saw a "Vacancy" sign attached to another Motel. I don't think I ever found out the name of this hotel. I just refer to it as Motel 1, because I think it was the first set of rooms ever rented out to delirious travelers. Box Car Willie would've past on this joint.

When I saw how dingy my room was, I was seriously thinking about driving my car through the front door of this place just to sleep on a prison cot.

I woke up a few hours later, I managed to get something out of the Rust/Water Shower and was on my way with confidence that Mesothelioma was in my near future.

I had no idea that you could feel more tired after sleeping or feel dirtier after showering, but the Motel 1 was special.

The sun wasn't even up but the temperature was around 107 or so, perfect time to leave. I opened the door to my van and was almost knocked down by the smell of steaming hot garbage. I still don't remember loading dead fish in my van, but they had to be there.

How could I have driven all that way and not noticed this stench? With the windows rolled down the whole way the stench of what ever dead animal was buried in my van wasn't as apparent as it became after it fermented in my baking van with the windows up.
I could not find the stink...AND IT STUNK!  After realizing I was too tired to take everything out of the van to find the smell, I would have to just live with it and get moving. The trip had now reached a new level of comfort.

My wife began to worry because I didn't use my phone for the rest of the trip. When I talked on the phone with the windows rolled down, I sounded like one of those "on location" reporters who cover hurricanes. You couldn't understand a word I was saying. With the windows rolled up you could hear me fine, but every second I spent on the phone, I inched scarily close to passing out from the smell or just combusting.

It was a miserable ride, but eventually I made it to my place in California. I got out of my Van, or as I now knew it, my "Solitary Confinement hole", looking like one of those Coal Mine Collapse Survivors. My wife was thrilled to see me, "Wow you're here already? That drive wasn't bad at all."

I couldn't believe she said this. She had no empathy at all for my 17 hours of hell on wheels. It took me a while to get over her non-appreciation. All that way, Triple Digit Heat, Dead Fish Smell, Motel 1 and nothing from my wife!

For the next three days I looked at my wife with, what she now describes as, a face that could only belong to an NFL player in a Las Vegas Elevator. 

Easy Trip! ...God Bless Moving Companies

Sent from my iPad

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Another attempt at a good deed

My wife and I were in a parking lot walking to our car and we saw a very drunk women (for the rest of this story I'll refer to her as "Drunk Chick") loading her kids in a car for what looked like was going to be a very wild ride home.

The Bartender, from the bar she stumbled from, was yelling at Drunk Chick telling her that she was calling the cops.

My wife, of course, wants to get involved and save the day.  "She's a little drunk and we don't want her to get into any trouble and we for sure don't want her to be driving these kids around.  We need to do something."

I was like, "The cop idea sounds to be the best course of action to me."

My wife looked at me as if I told her I wanted to kick puppies instead of helping Drunk Chick.  How insensitive could I be to let these poor little babies' mother go to jail.  What would happen to them if she got arrested?

I said, "It doesn't look like she's up for any Mother of the Year awards any time soon, maybe she's a shitty mom and the kids are better off without her right now."

My wife thought this line of thinking could only come from the Devil himself, "I'll tell the bartender to not call the cops, we'll get her home from here."

"You drive her car and I'll follow you in ours." she said as she convinced the bartender she was Mother Theresa herself.

I didn't like the sound of that at all, but I decided to do whatever the hell my wife asked me to do, because I didn't think whatever was about to happen would be as bad as having my wife remind me for the rest of my life that I was directly responsible for a mother losing her children.  As if I had been holding a gun to that lady's head to drink that whole day.

Helping my wife turned out to be a terrible move on my part!

As I'm driving her car, Drunk Chick is mumbling the directions to her Boyfriend's house.  I was thinking to myself how stoked he was going to be when he sees his Girlfriend pour out of her own car with some strange dude driving it.  I was also thinking how great it would be if he owned a gun.

We get to a REALLY ROUGH looking apartment complex only a couple miles from the parking lot where my wife decided to jump into Drunk Chick's life and Drunk Chick calls her boyfriend from the parking lot to come down and get her and her crying kids to his apartment.

Thirty seconds later a very wiry guy runs out to the car wide eyed and somewhat panicked.  I told him that his Girlfriend's had a bit too much to drink and she was about to drive here, which I was fine with, but today my wife really needs to be a hero ...so we dealt with your slobbering girlfriend.  "Here's the keys to her car is it okay if I leave it parked here?"

He snapped, "No...uh...no you can't leave her car here."

My spider senses were now clicking audibly to get the hell out of this situation and scream at my wife, but I had to ask, "Are you okay...this IS your girlfriend, right?"

He was starting to shake (not sure if it was form nerves or the crack) and said, yeah she's my girlfriend, but my wife and kids are in my apartment right now.

Right then I felt like I had just become Jerry Springer's Man On The Street.  I'm looking for cameras in the bushes.  This can't be real.  How could I be in this crappy crappy situation?

My wife is now eyeballing this dude like he is the biggest scum bag on the earth and she's ready to lay into him when he blurts out, "Let me go upstairs and see what I can do."

He walked to his apartment as slow as I've ever seen a grown man walk, like a man making his way to the Gallows, "Dead man walking."  He was in there forever.  I think he just went up there looked at his wife in the eye...and sat down for dinner.  He never came back out!

After a couple minutes of waiting Drunk Chick realizes that this guy is in his apartment with his family, and starts to show signs of her disapproval.

First by whipping rocks at the side of his apartment.

And second by screaming, "Is that bitch in there?"

I'm trying to calm her down by saying things like, "It's okay, just let it go, this is not worth getting in big trouble for."....because reasoning with a drunk always works.

Now my wife is becoming upset with Drunk Chick.  Just 10 minutes before my wife couldn't bare to see Drunk Chick's kids taken away from her and now she's telling me, "She's out of control, I think someone should call the cops."

Hey just think if we would have let someone else do that a while ago.  We could've been home and Drunk Chick's Boyfriend wouldn't be barricading himself and family in his apartment right now.

I'm walking to my car about ready to call the cops when Drunk Chick runs down my wife and gives her a very weak back hand to the face.  "Are you calling the cops bitch?"

The next thing I know, my wife is pounding the living hell out of Drunk Chick.  They were on the ground and my wife had Drunk Chick's hair in one hand and was punching her face with the other.

My first reaction was to go to the boyfriends apartment and hide with him in there.  "Bitches gone crazy!  Let a brother in."

My second reaction was to just watch the fight and wait for someone to start chanting, "Jerry....Jerry....Jerry!"

But what I did was jump in between both of them.  All three of us are on the ground at this point and I have my back to Drunk Chick and I'm facing my wife trying to push her away so she doesn't kill Drunk Chick.

As soon as I get my wife off of her, Drunk Chick throws a wild hay-maker around my head that misses my wife by a mile, but somehow lands right on my beak.

Yep the big nose took a big shot from Drunk Chick and I didn't know what the hell to do.  I wanted so badly to punch Drunk Chick right back, but I couldn't do that.  It even crossed my mind to let my super hero wife back at her, but all I did was stand there and bleed like an idiot with Hemophilia.

Yes bleed, profusely.  My shirt within 12 seconds was soaked in blood.  If Carrie was a man her name would've been Bryan Kellen.

By this time someone else had called the cops and they were on us.

Since my wife didn't have a scratch on her, and Drunk Chick and I looked like a couple of Deniro Stand-ins from Raging Bull, they thought we're were beating the hell out of each other.  And I, being a man, was about to go to the Big House.

Once the cops showed up everyone in this apartment complex was crowded around the scene.  (Except of course Drunk Chick's Boyfriend and those living there who had outstanding warrants)  So from the looks of this apartment complex about a third of the residents felt safe enough to be that close to police officers...at any rate a lot of people were now watching this HUMILIATING MOMENT IN MY LIFE.

Unfortunately the people could hear everything the police were saying to us.

Drunk Chick had totally lost it at this point.  She had to be restrained and thrown into the back of a squad car where she was still kicking and screaming. (With a massive knot over her eye compliments of Mother Theresa.

Her kids, who were about 3 and 5 years old, were talking to one another saying, "I think mommy's going to jail again."  Again?  Thank God we decided to help this Pillar of society.

A police officer quickly asked me, with my blood stained shirt and nose so swollen it now looked like an Eggplant on my face, "What happened?"

I pointed to Drunk Chick, with my jacked up nose that I couldn't breath through at this point making me sound EXACTLY like Forrest Gump, and said, "SHE HIT ME!"

As soon as the hundreds of onlookers heard this, they blew up with laughter.  I wish I could make people laugh that hard in a comedy club.  They were roaring...And it was endless, people were high fiving one another and slapping each other on their prison tatted backs.

The cops were now all laughing as well.  What a great feeling.

I end up with what I think was a broken nose, (I don't really know for sure, I was too embarrassed to go to the doctor) a bloody shirt and unmeasurable humiliation.

Drunk Chick went to jail and lost her kids for months.(to the grandparents thank God)

And my wife?....Well she's now a folk hero around town and anytime we go out we get to relive that glorious day over and over.  Confirming she was a saint to step in to help this poor woman in the first place.

Every time this stupid ass story is told, my wife looks more like a hero and I look more like a big ole puss.

Thank God WE decided to help a sister out!

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Best Birthday ever, thanks GeorgeLopez @georgelopez
"Everybody wish a " Happy Birthday " an amazing comedian and even better friend "

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

 · Hey Everybody, Shout-out to the The Celebrity Theater in Phoenix Great night with George Lopez  

Thursday, May 1, 2014

A good deed gone bad . . .

Hey Everybody !

I heard a little girl screaming at the top of her lungs by the creek outside of my hotel and I jumped into action without a second thought. As I was cruising down flights of stairs I was noticing that I didn't even hesitate to save this girl, "I'm the definition of a hero"....so I thought...

I had just come off of a long road trip and I had three days to chill out. My wife had a business trip, perfect opportunity to go with her.    

My wife was off to an early morning meeting, this is the perfect time for me to write some "hilarious" jokes. I sat down in front of the computer and that's when I heard her,  a blood curdling scream from what seemed to be a 3 year old girl. "She's lost! Running by a creek? I must save her!"

There was no easy way to get to the creek in back of the hotel. I had to run around not only my hotel, but a gas station, fast food restaurant and what seemed like fifty dumpsters.   While I was running at my 2 mile treadmill pace, I noticed that running on real land is a lot more difficult than keeping up on a conveyor belt. "I need something to hang onto while pretending to check my heart rate."   I still had a long way to go and I thought I was going to expire. I had to slow my pace to a near crawl or I'd die without even getting close to rescuing the helpless little angel by the creek.

I was going so slow that I was actually embarrassed that this is the urgent pace I had set to save someone's life. If you didn't see the intensity on my face you would think that I was pacing myself for a hundred mile race...barely moving forward.

I finally made it to the trail that lead to the creek behind the hotel and I was thinking to my self, "I'm sure this girl's going to be half raised by wolves by the time I show up."   

I finally have her in my sights and I'm calling out to her and saying, "It's okay honey I'm here to save you, come here and I'll take care of you!" Not a good choice of words. As I said this, two adults (her parents) jumped out from the side of the lake and began yelling at me in Japanese. 

I realized in a second that it was one of those cases where the little girl was being stubborn and her parents kept walking as to leave her, but they had her in there sights the whole time, they were just making her move. 

Once I realized this, I also realized that I looked like a child predator to this Japanese family.

And that explained why they were now chasing me with branches that they had found on the ground. Not to mention the little girl freaking out even more than she had been chasing her parents. She said something in Japanese that sounded like, Una Chow che chee dough." over and over, which I'm sure means, "Stranger Danger"

I was trying to explain myself, but they couldn't understand me and their branches looked like they could do some damage, so I had no choice but to just run away, making it me look even more creepy.

I've decided to never go back to that city for fear that I'll see an artist's rendition of my face on every telephone pole with "Predator" underneath it. 

Some Hero !

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Hey Everybody!

I had a great opportunity to attend the Rio 2 Premier and Party last week in Miami Beach with Mr. George Lopez.

What a great experience, except that…. I was in the midst of a “Sun damaged skin treatment”… ON MY FACE!

I went to the doctor to get a few Sun Spots removed and he suggested that I use this “Special Cream” to bring out the all of the pre-cancerous spots and get rid of them all at once.

I didn't know that this "Special Cream” was bottled radiation poisoning. After a couple days I noticed some reddening on my face. After two weeks, you’d swear I’d gotten a swirly in a deep fryer. My face was like a tomato with raised sores from ear to ear – forehead to chin. Not only was I looking my best, I couldn’t be exposed to the sun at all.

I was meeting the Celebs from the movie and every time I did, I felt the need to blurt out, “I have a condition!” They all said about the same thing, “Don’t’ be so concerned, you can hardly see anything.” But I know what they were thinking, “What the hell kind of condition can this dude have? Does he just eat way too much chocolate or was he involved in The Manhattan Project?”

To tell you the truth, everyone, especially Mr. Lopez who is currently staring in Saint George - Thursdays at 9 on FX was very cool to me in Miami Beach and they all pretended that nothing was wrong with my face. When it was all over they gave Mr. Lopez a nice send off with a Champaign Toast and tons of compliments on his performance… they gave me a Gross of Stridex Pads and a 64 gallon drum of Proactive Solution.

Yeah, I’m sure…”You can hardly see anything.”