Bastardpiece Theater

There are many things that I swore that I would never do. You know, like how every girl swears she wont do anal? Well, like all of those girls, I too break my promises. No, I didn’t take it up the ass. Even worse. I decided to buy a house! I will wait while you gasp.

Now, I know you are used to reading about sex with strippers and other filthy things. So you probably think that a story about buying a house would be boring. Well, you don’t know my life very well, do you? Nothing is ever simple for me.

Now for the back story. I have always had an aversion to buying a house. I like renting. I like knowing if something breaks, I can call someone to fix it. I don’t fix things. Hell, I don’t even own a god damn hammer. There is also the issue with freedom. I kind of enjoy knowing that at any moment I can head to Vegas. One last thing. I haven’t paid taxes in a decade, so when you buy something, people start poking around your finances. That wouldn’t be good for me. Also, I cant even buy used cars. Mainly because I know what I have done in cars. I buy new cars because I know that there is no cum in the glove compartment. Buying a house, there is probably semen everywhere. At least every house I ever lived in.

There are a couple reasons why I started thinking about buying a house. First, I don’t do roommates. I hate living with other people. Second, I miss having cats. Yeah, I said it. I have had cats my whole life until recently and life sucks without them. Also I want live close to my parents since they are both recovering from cancer, I need to do things around their house.

So I found the perfect house. It is right down the street from where I grew up. I knew the family that owned it and I have been in the house before. In fact, when I was 15, the girl who lived there gave me head in her basement, so it is like life coming full circle. So I know for a fact that there is most likely minimal semen in this house. This should be a breeze, right? Not exactly.

I looked the listing up online, and I e mailed the agent. Now, I must say I hate real estate agents. They are worse than car dealers. They are overly peppy and just obnoxious in general. The e mail I receive back was a little too peppy. Like I could hear her high pitched fat girl voice in my head when I read it. I tried to make it easy on her. I told her I grew up in the area and I know this house well, I would just need a quick walk through.

So I finally got the walk through. I meet her and to say this woman was fat would be a gross understatement. She was like late 20′s or early 30′s. A rough guess was that she was about 5’1 and pulling in at least 330 pounds. This bitch was spherical! On top of that, she had big hair. Not like 1980′s big hair, like 1950′s big hair.

Now, I admit I didn’t get too dressed up. I did slap on one of my nicer Rage Against the Machine t shirts and a pair of jeans. So I guess I shouldn’t judge fatty too harshly.

We go inside and I am just kind of looking around. Nothing too much. I didn’t have many questions to ask. I just was looking to see if there was anything major wrong with the inside of the house. Out of nowhere, she tells me she will be back and she goes outside and gets on her phone. So I am standing in this house with my hands in my pocket, staring at a blank wall. I guess that is bad because she opens the door and yells at me that I cant be in the house without her. So I go outside and just have a smoke. She is on the phone for like 15 minutes and I am getting annoyed. Finally, she hangs up and tells me to wait a minute.

What we were apparently waiting for is this big fat guy to show up. Now, this guy probably came in the neighborhood of 450-500 pounds. He did have on a sweet pair of filthy sweat pants that he is forced to hold up with one hand. You know how much your life sucks when sweat pants no longer fit you.

Now, since this is my first foray into the home buying experience, maybe this is normal. We go back inside and nobody is talking. They are watching me like a hawk. Now this is an empty house so it isn’t like I am going to steal something. The guy is just staring me down. That’s when it hits me. This fat bitch was worried I was going to rape her or something. This guy was her muscle. Which is fucked up because no guy wants to rape this fat broad and the muscle is just a fat guy. One of those guys who cant differentiate between being fat and being strong. It is legitimate since he wheezed because there was one step on the porch.

We wrap up the tour and she keeps trying to sell me on another property that she thinks will be more suitable for me. I am pretty annoyed by this point. This house is well within my price range, no matter what my t shirt says about me. It is in the neighborhood where I want to live. So why are we talking about other fucking houses? She insists I follow her to this other location. And her tubby bodyguard will follow me. You know, just in case I lose my fucking mind and have to have some of that sweet fat poon.

We drive into the city! Yes, instead of being 30 seconds away from my family, I will now be 20 minutes away. This is the fucking house she shows me.

This house is selling for 1,900 dollars. No, that is not a type-o. This house cost a thousand dollars less than my TV. What these pictures do not show is the smell that comes with the house free of charge. Now, I have almost no ability to smell from having several broken noses. Well, I broke my one nose several times. Not several noses once. I just wanted to be clear here.

Moving on. With almost no ability to smell, this smell cut right through it. This house smelled like a dumpster at an abortion clinic.

Now, you can see these pictures right? This is in the middle of the ghetto and it appears the house will collapse at any minute. But this dumb bitch is insistent that I buy this hunk of shit. She tells me on how I could fix it up and sell it. This fucking place should be burned to the ground and the earth should be salted so nothing will ever grow here again.

I finally get fed up. I told her thanks for her time but I am done. This is when her bodyguard tries to I guess intimidate me. Conversation as follows.

Fatty- So what, you drag us out just to waste our fucking time?

Me- Um, I told her I wanted to buy the first house and she is trying to push me on this one.

Fatty- You said you wanted to buy a house and she is trying to help you.

Me- Nooooooooo. I said I specifically wanted that house. We could have signed the deal by now but you’re done. No more chances.

Fatty- I should beat your ass for wasting our time

At this point I just turn to walk to my car while I am chuckling at fatty.

Me- Look, I told you.. You could have sold me a house an hour ago but you and porky decided to waste my time.

This must have been his breaking point because he decided to do a bull charge at me. I turned around just in time. Just in time to see him take 2 steps and then stumble over his sweat pants and face plant on the asphalt. It was like a cartoon. I swear there were sound effects going off in my head when he stumbled and I heard cymbals crash as he bounced off the pavement. This is where I lost it. I hardly ever laugh out loud, but I lost it here. I was laughing so hard, I couldn’t breathe. The hilarity reached its pinnacle at the exact moment that he rolled over on his back and he was rolling back and forth, with his filthy sweat pants around his knees, like he was a god damn turtle.

Yes, I am aware this is a dog and not a turtle. I just thought this picture drove home the point.

It even drew a crowd of young black kids, who I assume were originally going to steal my tires, but now they were yelling at the turtle. His fatness has now brought the races together for a common cause.

I casually climb into my car and head home. I laugh the entire way home though. It was one of the top 4 funniest things I have ever seen.

I get home and get online to look for other houses in the area. I get a knock on my door. I really never answer the door unless it is the Chinese guy bringing me food. Especially this time of year, it is all Obama supporters who want to convince me to vote for him. I don’t know why I answered the door, but I did the smart thing. There is a front door, and a glass screen door. I only opened the front door and left the screen door shut.

It was a cop. A city cop to be exact. I don’t live in the city so there is no need for him to be here. Apparently, the two fatties called and told them that I attacked both of them. The officer really wanted me to come outside and I refused to. I told him my side of the story and he basically told me that since two of them told the same story, I will have to go with him and might get charged with assault. All I could say to that was “No”. I shut the door in his face and locked it. That did not make him happy. He pounded on my door for about 10 minutes and started calling the house phone. Which I never answer. So as of right now, I think I might be in a stand off with the police. I haven’t looked outside, but I am picturing it being like Waco. We all know how that turned out…..

I will keep you updated if I do in fact get arrested, or shot. But this should teach me a lesson about growing up. All I wanted to do was buy a house and I might end up being a felon.

I have gotten to that age where all my friends are married and the ones who

aren’t seem to be in an insane rush to do so. It seems that by a certain age,

people throw conventional wisdom out and they resort to desperate measures.

Those desperate measures I speak come in the form of dating web sites. People

are no longer ashamed of dating sites, they will actually brag about them and if

you are lucky, you can find entire web sites based only on telling you all about

their failed, awkward dates.

Do not get me wrong, the internet was always a meeting place for girls.

That is until this character ruined it all…..

I fully expect people to meet random strangers and engage in all sorts of

debauchery. The sole reason for Myspace was to meet random emo girls for sex.

This is why the internet was invented. The internet however was not invented so

you can meet weird ass people on Match.com in the hopes of getting

married.

Recently Match.com has launched its weird get together idea. Where you can

sign up for a cooking class with other singles. Yeah, that is what I want. I

want a 30 year old broad who is trying to learn to make a fucking bundt cake.

Or, if you are lucky you can go bowling. Nothing says “hot girl” more than

bowling.

This is the actual picture that Match.com uses in their ads.

Is that a fucking white sofa in a bowling alley? When has anyone ever seen

a god damn couch in a bowling alley? Let alone one that wasn’t covered in

piss.

This one is a picture of another fun date idea. This is a mixolgy class so

you can both learn how to make fruity ass drinks.

Look how ethnically mixed this

group is. You have an Asian, a semi blackish guy and three ugly bitches. Where

do I sign up for this shit?

This is the kind of ass you can expect for 40.00 a month. Save your fucking money!

Now, I understand things like Swingers web sites and a place like JDate.

Where else can you find a fellow Jew, well outside of New York, L. A or Miami.

You cant swing a dead cat without hitting a Jew in those places. Those are ones

for specific desires. So I understand if you join a dating site that caters to

people with a particular fetish. It isn’t like you can just walk up to a girl in

a bar and ask to pee on her. Well you can but from my experience, it only works

like 25 percent of the time.

There is a disturbing number of women on these sites. Seriously girls, do I

need to remind you that you possess a vagina and in case you are not aware of

this, they are kind of in high demand. So if you cant get a guy to talk to you

in the real world, what in the world could you possibly offer someone via the

internet?

My main problem with dating web sites is because they represent everything

that is wrong with the world. They are made for people who cant have a fucking

conversation on their own.

Basically what you are saying when you sign up for one of these sites is

that you are incapable of the most primitive instincts. Talking…. If you cant

manage that, I don’t think a web site is going to save you from a life of

misery. Also, do we really need two people who have no basic communication

skills breeding?

Dating is not that fucking difficult.

I don’t think I have ever started a conversation with anyone in my whole

life. You don’t have to. That’s the great thing. People love to talk. Just sit

there and think about cats while they talk and every once in awhile, throw out

something clever.

I will give you the perfect place to meet people, and I wont even charge

you. OUT FUCKING SIDE! There are 7 billion people in the world, granted that

most of them are Asian, but still. Leave the house sometime. There are people

all over the place. Some are even single. Just play the odds.

You want to know some of my more shameful places I have met girls?

-Traffic

-Black out drunk

-High end spa

-Strip Club

-Toys R Us

- Cancer ward

I’m not proud of these. I am just proving a point.

I am not rich, nor am I a particularly good looking guy and I have managed

to meet and even date women all on my own. So either it isn’t difficult or I am

the most charming asscock in the whole world. If I can manage to do it, anyone

should be able to.

The most unforgivable part about these web sites is the fact that all

these sites pop up with people bitching about their terrible dates. No shit?

The great looking rich guy who just happens to be single turns out to be a

creepy guy that lives in his parents basement and makes his own meth….. You

don’t say! And guys, don’t you wonder why the hot girl is single looking for

love online? It is safe to say that it is because she is bat shit insane and is

finally ready to settle down. By the way, when a girl says she is ready to

settle down, it means she spent her whole life letting guys like me give her

facials and now she wants a guy who will listen to her boring stories.

This is basic evolution people. If you cant manage to do things on your

own, your genes need to simply die out. Besides, I don’t need your fucking

mongoloid kid fucking up my Big Mac in 17 years. Oh yeah, fuck Chris Hansen.

So Fucking Fridays is back with someone I cant believe I have overlooked for so long. This is Elisha Cutbert. She has been in movies like Old School and a bunch of shit you will never see. Her shitty movies aside, she is hot and she likes hockey players.

Now, since there are huge flaws with every broad, Elisha is not above 2 massive mistakes in her life.

One, she has no boobs. Normally, this would be a deal breaker but I am willing to let it slide.

Two, She fucked Sean Avery. He is not the biggest douche in hockey, or even sports. He is possibly the biggest douche in all of the Western Hemisphere.

Me being the best person in the world, I am willing to overlook these two glaring, almost unforgiveable life mistakes that she has made if she were to allow me to have sex with her face.

Agree?

So it is officially my favorite time of the year… Summer! I love almost everything about the summer. I love the overwhelming heat, I love that I get to drive with the top down listening to 80′s music, I love watching baseball everyday and I love that the girls are out of school and are feeling adventurous.

There is a pool across the street from my house and for some odd reason, high school aged girls like to congregate half naked in my front yard. This seems silly to me. It is almost like a gazelle hanging out inside a lions mouth. In order to fully embrace the creepy old guy thing I have going, I bought a nice little porch swing type get up. I get to wake up, mix myself a flavorful cocktail and hang out on my porch like an old retired guy. Can you really think of a better way to spend a day?

While I can go on and on about how unproductive and stalkerish I am during the summer, I feel like it would be for the best if I talked about what I hate about the summer. I do hate much better than I do love.

-I hate that guys feel the need to never wear a shirt when the temperature is over 75 degrees. I don’t care who you are, you should always have a shirt on. At any given time, I am wearing 2 shirts to make up for your lack of one. When did the No Shirt No Shoes No Service thing become just a suggestion? Go into any gas station and you have 200 landscapers with their shitty prison style tattoos that they got with a hepatitis needle in some crack heads basement, roaming around, nipples on display like it is perfectly normal. It isn’t. It isnt even like they dont own shirts because usually they will hang them from their belt loops. You know, just to say, “yeah I have a shirt but fuck you, I want to show off my hairy back”.

-I hate that girls refuse to wear shoes. Bitches love sandals like they are fucking Spartacus and shit. I understand if you are at the pool or the beach, but not when you are at Ruby Tuesdays. It isnt like shoes add 20 degrees to the heat. Hell, I played tennis in my Doc Martins and never had an issue. Trust me, invest in a real pair of shoes sometime. It will not cause you to dehydrate. Black girls are especially bad about this. They love to not only remove their shoes, but then put their nasty feet up on chairs, tables, pretty much anything around them. Nobody wants to see your disgusting feet…. (Well, besides the weird fetish guys)… While on the subject

-Can you please refrain from taking a picture of your disgusting feet for your Facebook picture? The last thing I want to see when I go to make a snide comment is some of your gross toes sitting in the water. You are in a swimsuit, with your boobs hanging out, and you decide that it is your ugly feet that we want to see? Just because one guy told you he wanted to fuck your feet, you forget that the rest of us just think about your boobs and ass. Every girl is guilty of posting one picture like this. Knock it the fuck off!

-While talking about pictures being taken. Do you think it would be possible for you to not send me a picture of your cars thermostat? I know everyone has the need to pretend to be a weatherman but people like me (straight people) do not care. I don’t care what paid weathermen have to say, so I don’t care about your take.

-Lets just cover all of the bases. If you feel the need to strike up a conversation with me, which I strongly advise against, you do not need to say anything about the heat. My body allows me to gauge the amount of heat that the sun is producing. Don’t ask if it is “hot enough for ya”…. My answer will always be “Shut up, cunt”.

- Don’t talk about global warming. I don’t believe in it, and even if I did, I wouldn’t care if you did. I remember when I was a kid, it was sometimes hot then too. It was hot when I was in my teens and my 20s. I assume next summer will be rather warm as well. The big difference is that I got better with age and didn’t turn into a giant fag complaining about the weather. Suck it up.

-I don’t want to hear about your genius operating of your air conditioning. I think we all have a friend like this who wants to tell you in detail, his mastering of his AC. How they have it set on timers and they shut it off during the day… I fucking hate those people. My thermostat is set at 75 pretty much all year. Sometimes I kick it to 81 during the winter months, but there is no need to fuck with it. There is even less of a need to brag about your mastery of it. Nobody has ever been impressed by someone who finally figured out their air conditioning

-If we go out to eat, don’t suggest we eat outside. I don’t care how nice out it is, we can manage to consume food indoors. Call me a fussy prick but I like to eat my chicken sandwich without swarms of insects attacking my food. Drinking is even worse since bugs love the delicious taste of alcohol. I don’t really need to waste my time trying to spit out fruit flies between sips.

-There is no need to drone on and one about your desire for iced tea. I know people say it is refreshing but it is gross. When it is hot, there are 3 acceptable beverages that can be talked about to “beat the heat”…. Pepsi, beer, and vodka and tonics. However, you still don’t need to talk about them. Just drink them and shut the fuck up.

-Can you try not to sweat like a pig? Is it possible? Nothing is nicer than walking into a restaurant or store and seeing the fat guy who looked like he just fucked a sprinkler in the one position. I know it is the body’s way of cooling itself, but nobody needs to sweat that much. If you are that out of shape where your body thinks it needs to coat you in a layer of grease, you might want to plan ahead and bring a change of clothes. Maybe borrow the shirtless guys clothes since he isn’t wearing them.

Now if people could refrain from doing these simple things, my life would be much happier and I wouldn’t have to yell obscenities at you. I don’t think it is too much to ask. Now, I have to go and take my seat for what will be the parade of teen ass that will soon be trickling by. You are all welcome to join but you will be expected to bring liquor.