The Krude Experience - 11/16/15

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro

That's a quote from the late writer Hunter S Thompson aka Dr Gonzo. My main inspiration for writing the Krude Experience. I turned 'pro' many full moons ago.This blog will revolve around some random Krudeness of late. And the Gods are not smiling. They're wincing. Let's go!

*Day off from work. No time to rest though. Must see a doctor today about some serious neck pain I'm having. This is my 3rd trip to see him. Ends up I have a fracture in C5 and a hyper extended ligament there.Not sure how it happened.Really.Shit. Vicodin,muscle relaxers,and Cisco kinda help. A broken freaking neck. Now I have something in common with Kurt Angle. Tough to eat pussy when your neck is on fire.

*Back to work. Sucks. The Darkness at Irving Plaza tonight doesn't suck. I grab the ever dieting blonde gf and drag her to 14th st in NYC. Find a Popeyes fried chicken near the venue. I eat like a savage. She watches in horror as I devour a 3 piece meal in about 138 seconds.She has 3 Stoli O and Sprites at the gig.I remain sober (?!?!). Too many pills in my system keeps the booze from my belly. The Darkness were awesome. Real musicians. Playing Gibson guitars.Great tunes. Some hot rocker chick milf types to gawk at. Justin Hawkins wearing knickers then little tennis shorts was a nod to Freddie Mercury. Gay is gay.

* Ginger.My saviour. Many times when I'm loaded,it comes to the rescue. I buy it at a local vegetable farm in the form of bag of candy from China. $1. It's a rock solid candy that disolves with a whiskey-esque burn. Kills the nausea out of yer stomach.Strong and effective.Probably kills brain cells and reduces sperm count too.Ginger. Also the name of a quality whore.Or 80's porn star.Or Ace Rothstein's wife. You make the choice.

* Chosen for jury duty. In the county I'm already suing for illegally stealing my child support case in the name of federal $ kickbacks. Judge presiding over jury is same judge that signed a warrant to lock me up over 2 weeks of late cs. Ironically,the case I'm called for is about somebody with a neck injury. I'm excused immediately. Fuck these corrupt cretins. I pay their salary-yet I cannot vote for judges or cops. They are appointed. By other cretins.With a 75% pension rate at retirement. Welcome to NJ.

* Some chick kept messaging me on an online dating site.She lives about 25 miles from me. Aw,what the fuck. I give her my #. She texts. I text. Back and forth. During Monday Night Football. I ask to see her tits. She sends a pic. I send a photo of myself back. Then I ask for an ass shot. She sends it. You know where this is going. Cock and pussy pics pollute TMobile's weak network. Not sure of her name. Nice rack though.Note to self: Lay off the Larceny bourbon when sexting.

* Got super ripped while watching the Raiders/Steelers game. Some bile green colored Absinthe and red wine kick my ass. I managed to chase away some wimp Steelers fans from my section of the bar. With my startlingly accurate assessment (aloud) of how much the Steelers are coddled by Roger Goodell. Truth hurts. They ran. Pussies.Steelers #1 rapist Ben gets hurt. An Okie QB named after an dead coach mounts a lucky winning drive. Raiders lose. Time for Wild Turkey shot.

* Ended up fucking the annoying broad from the dating site. Drove to her town. Picked her up. Ate dinner. Drank tequila. Booked a hotel room. Fucked. Drank more. Fucked. Fell asleep. Woke up. Went to work. Then after work,picked up usual blonde gf and took her to New Hope,PA for a nice evening of funky shopping. Chicks are my main addiction. It takes pure skill to pull off a 'player' lifestyle. And a ton of energy. Word of advice to the wannabe players out there: invest in good deodorant soap.And carry it with you. Don't count on hotel soaps. Trust me.

 Your exuberant taste for a lady
that drinks tequila from her wretched life
I'm on the top of the hill
I just chartered a plane to your heart
And as I stumble to my feet
I stagger to the door
And as I crawl towards the girl
I just fall back on the floor...
Last Bandit by The Dogs D'Amour. That kinds says it all.

Just keep living

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