This is me and my lovely mom this morning, on Mother’s Day. She wasn’t stoked for this picture because she had been teary-eyed earlier in the morning (her mother passed away last June) and she had on no make-up, but she was happy to have her handsome son with her.
I got her a card, some chocolate, and a framed pic of her and her mom from last Mother’s Day. She cried and hugged me like 20,000 times. Now, I’m gonna go to work. Peace, kiddos. Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there.
My sister snapped this picture of me on Friday afternoon.
The last 3 days have been utter butt fucking chaos. My feet feel as though someone smashed the bottoms of them with a sledgehammer and then sent an army of rhinos to slap their dicks against them.
They hurt. Nigga, they hurt.
Working at the Derby was fun, and in a lot of ways, really interesting. I saw a lot of celebrities, got to talk to Bradley Cooper a little bit, had lunch with Ron Turcotte (the jockey who won the Derby in 1973 on Secretariat), and I got paid to sit around a lot and just watch hot women in short skirts attempt to walk in heels. At one point, women kept buying flip flops and putting them on at the table, lifting their legs to do so and giving me a bird’s eye view up their skirt. As you can imagine, I was furious about that… absolutely.
When I get my paycheck, I’m gonna be one happy little bitch. I’m looking forward to buying tickets to Extreme Rules, getting my tattoos touched up, and possibly buying some more stickers and hoodrat things. If it was up to me, I’d re-own all the cool CD’s I had when I was 16, before ex-girlfriends and fucked up friends stole them from me. But, instead, I rely on Amazon and eBay for all my hoodrat needs. I actually got N.W.A.’s Straight Outta Compton 20th Anniversary CD the other day. It’s got a version of “Fuck The Police” by Bone Thugs -N- Harmony on it that’s pretty awesome.
Nobody cares about this shit. Why am I even typing?
Also, I made it through the entire weeks’ worth of work (62 hours total, holy shit) and only wished death on two people! I feel like I’m advancing, anyway. In what, I don’t know, but people are safer. :D
Thanks to my darling, I finally got a Fenix TX shirt in the style that I’ve wanted since I was 16. Also, rawr.
This was over 2 years ago, but I’ll never forget how excited I was. Me and D.L. Hughley, backstage at the Improv. He invited me back to meet him after seeing how stoked I was for his show, and for being a good sport when he tried talking shit with me. He was such an incredibly nice guy, and I’ll never, ever forget this moment.
Someone asked to hear my voice. Here’s me talking. There’s also a billion fucking videos of me doing stand-up comedy on YouTube as well as just being a dipshit around my house. I’m also in movies. Life is a big, fun video game.
Today was semi-productive. I got my parents some concert tickets for whatever fuckin’ holiday they want to chalk them up to, bought some horror movies, bought some wrestling pay per views, had a salad for lunch, hung out with my friend Adam who gave me a big Avengers poster, and watched some stand-up comedy. Thursdays aren’t anywhere near as shitty as Tuesdays. I can fuck with Thursdays. Hard.
So I ordered a Fenix TX sticker on eBay expecting something the size of, I don’t know, a billboard, and I get this in the mail today.
I had a long talk today with the pops about how neither one of us have ever given a fuck.
I also had Mexican food for lunch and bought a Mexican wrestling DVD set.
I’m hungry.
It’s 3:06 on Friday night and my ass is watching Eddie Griffin between wrestling clips. Please excuse my dope ass swag.
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