***THROWBACK POST***
Unconventional Endings, from November 17th!
@PeteTeix617
Monthly Archives: July 2012
Bagging Up Season 2 – Episode 3
INT. BARTHOLOMEW’S APARTMENT
Simon wasn’t home, but Judas found him at Bartholomew’s place.
BARTHOLOMEW
What’s up mas puto.
The guys laugh.
JUDAS
What the hell does that mean?
SIMON
We’re not really sure, but we think it means super gay, in Spanish.
JUDAS
When did you guys start speaking Spanish?
SIMON
My neighbor was clowning around with his friends and I picked it up.
JUDAS
I’m definitely not mas puto.
BARTHOLOMEW
I agree. The jury is still out on you; you’re mas o menos puto.
The guys laugh.
JUDAS
What the hell is that?
BARTHOLOMEW
I just made it up. I remember mas o menos from high school Spanish class. That has to be the Spanish version of bisexual.
JUDAS
You would know.
BARTHOLOMEW
No homophobe!
The guys laugh.
SIMON
So what did you want to talk about?
JUDAS
I wanted to get in contact with Heather so I could find out what caused her to create these lies.
SIMON
That’s a good idea. If you want I can call her to come over.
JUDAS
Yeah, that’s probably best.
Simon calls Heather and she agrees to meet the guys. An hour later, she arrives and Simon walks her into the apartment.
HEATHER
Simon tells me that you have a problem with me.
JUDAS
I just want to know why you decided to make up lies about me and Dan.
HEATHER
What lies?
JUDAS
I’m serious. I don’t even know you and I’m trying to understand why you did what you did; are you crazy or something?
HEATHER
Are you seriously going to sit there and say that you don’t know me?
JUDAS
The first time I met you was at the bar.
HEATHER
I can’t believe it; you are the biggest asshole ever.
SIMON
I concur.
BARTHOLOMEW
I too agree with the lady’s proclamation.
JUDAS
Thank you, gentlemen!
Everyone laughs.
HEATHER
You really don’t remember me?
JUDAS
No, crazy woman!
HEATHER
Take a look at this.
Heather reaches into her purse and pulls out a photo. Judas grabs the picture and studies it.
JUDAS
Is this Caesars?
HEATHER
Yeah, it’s from three years ago.
JUDAS
I remember you!
SIMON
You guys know each other?
HEATHER
That’s what I’ve been trying to say.
BARTHOLOMEW
Why were you lying?
JUDAS
I wasn’t lying. Look at this picture; she had blond hair.
Bartholomew grabs the photo.
BARTHOLOMEW
You can’t blame him for not recognizing you; this looks like a completely different person.
JUDAS
Exactly!
HEATHER
There is no excuse for forgetting a person you connected with.
BARTHOLOMEW
Connected? I know what that means; I think someone was the victim of a hit and run!
Judas and Bartholomew high-five while laughing and Simon does his best to keep a straight face.
HEATHER
I see you laughing, asshole.
SIMON
Sorry, but it’s hilarious.
JUDAS
How can you expect me to remember some chick I banged three years ago, especially when I was drunk out of my mind in Vegas?
BARTHOLOMEW
So you made up the entire gay thing to get back at him?
HEATHER
He deserved it.
BARTHOLOMEW
What about Dan? He didn’t do anything to you.
Judas clears his throat.
JUDAS
I think she got in another accident.
The guys laugh.
BARTHOLOMEW
Damn! You’re the freaking hit and run queen. I got next!
HEATHER
Fuck you!
BARTHOLOMEW
Yes, please!
The guys laugh.
SIMON
I’m sorry.
HEATHER
Thanks “friend.”
BARTHOLOMEW
If you’re looking for support; you’re in the wrong place.
SIMON
So Judas isn’t gay?
BARTHOLOMEW
No! Heather lied, but Judas is still gay. No homophobe!
The guys laugh.
BARTHOLOMEW
What happened in Vegas? How did you bag her?
SIMON
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas; right Heather?
HEATHER
Don’t try to be on my side, now.
Simon shrugs his shoulders.
SIMON
You can’t fault me for trying.
BARTHOLOMEW
Let’s hear it.
JUDAS
I actually remember the night; no wonder you hated me.
HEATHER
You’re such an asshole.
BARTHOLOMEW
What did you do?
JUDAS
We were messing around and I told the guys to give me any pick-up line and I’ll bag Heather.
SIMON
Hold on! Don’t tell me that story was actually true.
JUDAS
That’s right. You guys didn’t believe me.
BARTHOLOMEW
I can’t believe you weren’t lying.
JUDAS
I walked up to Heather and said, can you help me dispose of some semen!
The guys laugh while Heather lowers her head in shame.
SIMON
I can’t believe that line worked on you.
HEATHER
I was drunk!
BARTHOLOMEW
I always wanted to meat the semen disposal chick. Today is the happiest day of my life. Do you mind if I make a deposit?
The guys laugh. Heather decides to keep quite instead of egging him on.
BARTHOLOMEW
Nothing personal, Heather.
HEATHER
I understand that you guys are childish. It’s been fun, but I’m out of here.
JUDAS
I guess we’re even. No hard feelings.
HEATHER
Whatever.
She walks to the door.
JUDAS
Wait. I’ll walk you out. Later fellas.
BARTHOLOMEW
Where are you going?
JUDAS
I have to find Dan and tell him the story.
BARTHOLOMEW
Alright, later.
JUDAS
I know you guys didn’t think I was going to let some random chick to out me.
Judas exits.
INT. PHILIP’S APARTMENT
Simon and Bartholomew decide to tell Philip the news.
PHILIP
This is a small world. It’s crazy how everything unfolded. Judas is really lucky; it could have been much worse.
KIM
He definitely needs to slow down with the bagging, as you guys say.
BARTHOLOMEW
The way I see it, no harm no foul.
KIM
I kind of feel bad for accusing Judas of being gay.
PHILIP
Don’t fee bad; he’s an asshole.
BARTHOLOMEW
That’s no way to talk about your friend, buddy.
PHILIP
You’re an asshole too!
The all laugh.
PHILIP
I’m just happy the truth is finally out.
Bartholomew and Simon look at one another.
SIMON
I’m not sure the truth is out.
PHILIP
What are you talking about?
BARTHOLOMEW
Judas said something weird before leaving my apartment.
SIMON
Yeah, it was a little shaky.
PHILIP
What?
BARTHOLOMEW
He said, I know you guys didn’t think I was going to let some random chick to out me.
PHILIP
I’m sure it was just a slip of the tongue.
SIMON
It was a slip, but I’m pretty sure it was Freudian.
PHILIP
I don’t want to go down this road again; let’s go get some food and let Judas live his life.
SIMON
I’m down for that.
BARTHOLOMEW
Me too.
KIM
Great; we haven’t eaten all day.
The foursome exits.
[It's A Wrap!]
Second Chance Sunday {XVIII}
Doggie Deal Breaker
This evening, I was about to pull into the garage when I noticed a beautiful woman walking down the street. She seemed amazing until I observed the leash in her hand; she was walking her dog. I’d rather not be with a woman who owns a dog.
This post is an explanation of the reasons I consider dogs to be a deal breaker. Actually, dogs aren’t a deal breaker. If I met a great girl who was a dog owner, I’d accept the dog without any problems. I just prefer no dogs.
***I am not Michael Vick and I don’t hate dogs. I simply have no desire to own a dog and I consider them to be animals and not humans. That being said, I completely understand that there are many people who love their pets!***
My preference comes from life experiences. First of all, I’ve never been the type of person who likes touching animals or insects. That being said, I would love to own a tiger! (I had fish while living in Boston, but I never actually had to touch them!)
The second reason I prefer no dogs is the fact that owning a dog is a big responsibility, a fact that most people seem to overlook. I enjoy being free to do whatever I please and a dog can limit what activities the owner can enjoy. You can lock a dog in a cage and leave the house, but that seems cruel. (I understand that the responsibility falls on the female, who owns the dog, but I would end up sharing some of the responsibility and I’d rather not have to take care of a dog!)
The third reason I have a no dog preference is based on the fact that I have never picked up dog feces; a fact that will not change! Relationships are difficult to navigate and I don’t need the added stress that comes from the “I am not picking up your dog’s shit” argument. I can be an asshole and there is no way I am backing down from this position. (I often see people picking up after their dogs and I laugh my ass off every time!)
Watching grown adults picking after their dogs reminds me of a Seinfeld joke. Here is the conversation between George and Jerry.
Jerry: “If aliens come to earth, they will think dogs are running things.”
George: “Why do you say that?”
Jerry: “Because all they’re going to see is a bunch of humans being led on leashes by their dogs and then watching the humans pick up after the dogs!”
This is an excellent point!
The main reason may be a bit silly, but it’s real and I can’t help it. I watched the 2005 movie Sleeping Dogs Lie, and it changed the way I look at dog owners. (The movie came out in 2005 so, I don’t feel bad if I spoil the story for anyone who reads this!) Basically, a woman has a sexual experience with her dog and reveals it to her boyfriend which causes problems in the relationship.
The way I see it, there is a 38 percent chance that women who own dogs experienced some sort of sexual contact with the animal and I am not about following a canine. That would be the sloppiest seconds! (There is no mathematical formula for figuring out the 38 percent; I just figure that is the accurate number!)
The final reason has to do with the fact that I am a germaphobe. Even if I am fortunate enough to meet one of the 62 percent clean dog owners, aka a woman who never lost the fight against the curiosity of bestiality, there are still cleanliness issues.
I don’t want to kiss someone who just kissed a dog, which just licked its own asshole. I don’t consider kissing dogs to be a sexual thing, but it is pretty gross! I also think sex should be a spontaneous thing and I would rather not have to stop in order to allow the woman to wash her hands before we engaged in consensual non-dog-involved sexual activities! I would also prefer not having sex on a dog-hair-covered bed. (Call me crazy!)
Not Hot!
I apologize to any dog owners who may find this post to be offensive! (Now stop being pissed and go scoop up some poop!)
@PeteTeix617
Second Chance Sunday {XVII}
Another Step Closer
I reached another step on my long road to becoming the Deli Devil. (If you have no idea what I am referring to, read my previous post: This Actually Happened – October 15th) Step eight: have some experience killing the same type of thing, repeatedly.
In my case, I have been an insect serial killer for at least a quarter century; this is a step that I have plenty of experience with. I also have the natural ability to spot any insect regardless of the environment. I can spot a chameleon in the most inconspicuous hiding place.
For some reason, I will instinctively stop watching television and spot a spider, hidden in the corner of my bedroom. Once I see an insect, the desire to kill it immediately washes over me. The problem is I have never been one of those people who touch insects, so I have to come up with creative ways to kill them without actually coming into contact with the critters.
One major concern about moving to California was the knowledge that warmer climates produce larger and a wider selection of insects. Thankfully, I rarely come across the creepy crawlers. Unfortunately, insects are not yet extinct in the city of Los Angeles. Every so often, I will find an insect in the apartment and I will kill it as soon as possible.
Since I do this regularly, I consider myself an insect serial killer. I even have a reliable instrument of death. MY TRUSTED BROOM! First, I use the broom to sweep the insect to the ground, if it is on the wall. Then I use the broom to sweep the insect into the wall at a high speed. The key is I feel absolutely no guilt!
The result is quick and fatal. The insect dies and I use the dustpan to dispose the dead critter into the waste basket. Sometimes, I leave the insect on the floor for an hour or so, just to send a message to any other insects who may be thinking of entering the apartment.
In a way, I am an evolutionary serial killer because I do it for the environment. In fact, the way I see it people who do not kill insects, found inside of their homes, are doing the planet a disservice. Charles Darwin’s Natural Selection will weed out the dumb insects and help to evolve a new super insect that will be smart enough to stay away from killer humans. Through the process of evolution, earth will be a place where humans and insects will be able to coexist, without having to interact. As long as you allow the dumb insects to continue living, you are slowing down the evolutionary process!
***DO YOUR PART AND KILL THE DUMB INSECTS!***
Please don’t get the wrong idea; I’m not some sadistic individual who gets pleasure from killing insects. I don’t want to share a living space with them and the murders are necessary and not gratuitous! The fact that I don’t feel any remorse is because I was able to rid my mind of the guilt-ridden religious theological teachings. (I don’t foresee experiencing any guilt when I move on to become a “real” serial killer!)
***I placed the word real in quotation marks because killing insects is real!***
Since I’m on the subject, I do have an enemy insect. I despise the centipede. I guess it’s the fact that they are extremely fast and they can kill humans. (I know it is rare for a centipede bite to kill a human, but I’m not taking any chances!)
Although there are people who believe centipedes are a helpful since they prey on other insects, I don’t want them anywhere around me. I have and always will hate centipedes. I will share too experiences which caused me to hate the centipede.
Other than storage space, the basement of my childhood home was only used to wash clothes. Every time I went down to do laundry I had to be on centipede alert. It was terrifying. Originally, the basketball hoop in my backyard was located near the gate and we had problems with unwanted guests. At the end of the summer, we took down the hoop and planned to relocate it to a more desirable spot. When the spring arrived, a cousin of mine was helping me retrieve the hoop so we could re-cement it in the new location. As we carried the backboard up the stairs it got stuck and while we attempted to figure out the best way to loosen the hoop, my cousin spotted a large black centipede. My escape route was blocked by the hoop and I as stuck in the basement with the massive killer. I don’t remember much of what happened next, but somehow I managed to survive!
It was a little wider and longer than this one!
There was another incident that happened during the summer, about fifteen years ago. We often hung out on my friend’s stoop, but the place was a centipede hot spot, so I was always uncomfortable to the point that my hatred for the insect became a known fact. One day, I jumped off the steps after spotting a centipede. My friend grabbed the insect and chased after me. I hopped on my bicycle and got the hell out of there. I peddled so fast and out of control that I almost crashed. After an hour of being chased from the street, my friend finally told me that he was terrified of centipedes and would never touch one. I was still a bit apprehensive when returning to the stoop, but I ended up trusting him and he was being honest. (That was one of the scariest experiences of my life!)
This post is sponsored by Orkin!
This post is a cry for help. I don’t want to become a serial killer!
@PeteTeix617
Independence
Independence is a funny thing, especially in the United States of America. The recent celebrations during the Fourth of July confused me. I now live in California and I was stunned to see all of the festivities. Massachusetts earned the right to celebrate Independence Day, along with the other original twelve colonies (Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Georgia, Connecticut, Maryland, South Carolina, New Hampshire, Virginia, New York, North Carolina, and Rhode Island), but who gave the other states the right? (The nerve of some people!)
Don’t get me wrong; I love living in California, but the state has been a member of the union for less than two hundred years. (States should have to put in at least two centuries before earning the right to celebrate!)
I also find the South to be particularly confusing when it comes to independence. Don’t get me wrong; I’m definitely against slavery, especially since I would have been on the losing end of that deal, but what gives the Union the right to force the Confederate states to abide by their rules? Wasn’t the point of the Declaration of Independence issued in order to rid America from English rule? I guess the freedom of independence is only for some people.
Speaking of freedom, what about the US Territories? Do those citizens not deserve to have their own Independence Day? When will Puerto Rico be allowed to become an independent country? The American government can claim Puerto Rico as a territory but the island is not a part of the US. They have their own national anthem for Pete’s sake! If the country can send athletes to the Olympic Games, they should have their Independence! (The least that can be done is allowing the country’s citizens to have voting rights in the Presidential election!)
The same goes for Guam, the Virgin Islands, and any other “territory!” I, for one, will not accept these “territories” as American until the government forces PeterPan Bus Lines, Amtrak and South West Airlines to collaborate on a $69 ferry boat from Miami to Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands. Furthermore, I want a Pacific Ocean ferry to Guam and the other stolen islands. (I don’t know anything more American than a great deal!)
Maybe these “territories” should follow the example of the United States and take their Independence by force! (This might turn out to be a bad idea, since America used atomic bombs in the past!)
I guess the purpose if this post is to point out that Independence is a confusing concept. I’ll probably never understand it!
RANDOM QUESTION OF THE DAY: I wonder if “Independent women” celebrate their Independence on the fourth of July. If not, I think September 7th is a perfect day.
“Why September 7th?” You ask.
It’s pretty simple; that’s the birthdate of Queen Elizabeth I of England. She was an Independent woman, in fact a virgin, who didn’t need any man to help her rule the world. (She must have done a lot of horseback riding!)
The term “Independent Woman” always reminds me of my favorite inappropriate joke. “What do you say to a woman with two black eyes?” NOTHING; SHE’S BEEN TOLD TWICE!
@PeteTeix617
Second Chance Sunday {XVI}
This post is appropriate since I reached another step on my path to the dark side! (I’ll write about it this week!)
***THROWBACK POST***
This Actually Happened – October 15th, from take a wild guess!
@PeteTeix617
This Will Happen
I’ve decided to stop blogging regularly, at least for the foreseeable future. I have a few posts to write for next week and then I will take a break. I’m not burned out or anything; I’m just taking some time to work on other projects. Who knows, I may decide to post once a week, but I’m not sure.
***Thanks to everyone who has continued to read on a regular basis!***
A Look Inside
This post is a look inside the inner workings of my mind. There is an ongoing battle between me and my mind, each night. I attempt to go to sleep and my mind wanders into the land of random thoughts. Unless I’m extremely exhausted, at least an hour goes by before I fall asleep. Thankfully, I keep my phone within arm’s reach in case I need to write down an idea or two. (This post originated during one of my nightly battles!)
My mind is like the IBM ThinkPad that I bought in 1998; it will shut down eventually, but there will be a long wait. Last night, I mistakenly thought I was going to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but this is the journey that my mind decided it wanted to share with me.
I can’t remember what I was thinking about but eventually I ended up thinking about pizza. Immediately, I recalled the old Tombstone Pizza ads on television in which people are asked, “what do you want on your tombstone.” The question got me thinking about my tombstone and I actually arrived at a great epitaph. (I’m not sure if this quote is what I actually want on my tombstone, but it’s what I came up with!)
***Here lies Peter. Don’t believe him!***
This is what I really want on my tombstone, as of today.
I have no idea where the quote came from, but I decided that my tombstone would read, “NEVER HAD TO PAY FOR AN ABORTION!” (No offense to anyone who had to pay for an abortion; I’m just stating a fact!)
Most people may be repulsed by such a quote, but I feel it is perfect for several reasons. After the initial reaction wears off, all types of questions will enter one’s mind. This is why I love this quote; it confuses people. (In the future, anyone who reads my tombstone will be filled with bewilderment!)
“What the hell does that mean?”
Assumption 1: I think when this guy was alive abortions were commonplace and he wants people to know that he never had to pay for one? He must have been some kind of hero!
Assumption 2: This guy probably got a lot of women pregnant, but he always managed to avoid paying for the abortion. He’s either a smooth talker, or a fugitive from the law.
Assumption 3: Maybe this guy is just letting everyone know that he never had to secretly pay for an abortion.
Assumption 4: I think this guy was accused of paying for several abortions and he doesn’t want anyone to believe the rumors.
Assumption 5: This guy probably got a bunch of women pregnant, but he never paid for the abortions because he had some kind of hookup!
Bonus Assumption: This guy is some idiot whose last request was to have a controversial and shocking epitaph on his tombstone. What a jackass!
I’m sure there are plenty of other assumptions, but I think these get the point across, like a trapeze artist without falling! (Feel free to share any assumptions that may have popped in your head!)
I didn’t think of any other assumptions because my mind shifted a little. Out of nowhere, I began to wonder if this quote would serve better as a tattoo. At first, I thought it was a great idea for a tattoo, but it is a horrible one. The reason the quote works better as an epitaph is the fact that I will be dead. If I get a tattoo that reads, “never had to pay for an abortion,” it may turn out to be a lie.
What if something happens and I slip one past the goalie causing me to have to pay for an abortion. (When it comes to abortions, I’m all for them; especially mandatory government forced abortions! I just think there should be a list of criteria which has to be met before allowing any idiot to bring a child into this world! No offense to any horrible parent!)
There is also a chance that I may have to pay for an abortion that I had nothing to do with. What if a friend or family member got some random one night stand pregnant, but he didn’t have the money to pay for an abortion. I may have to step up and contribute.
I’d rather not have children, but what if my teenage daughter disobeyed me and ended up getting pregnant by a boy who goes to church every Sunday? In that situation, I would have to pay for an abortion.
I’d rather not have a tattoo that is an outright lie, so I’ll stick with the tombstone idea!
I know what people are thinking; “you can get a tattoo removed or covered!” True! Tattoos can be altered, but I don’t believe in removing tattoos; they are meant to be for life. Altering the tattoo is not a horrible idea. I actually already have a basic idea of how I would do it. The “N” will have to be altered; possibly turned into an asterisk, and the exclamation point turned into a question mark. The tattoo will them read, “*EVER HAD TO PAY FOR AN ABORTION?”
That would be an awesome tattoo! Except for the fact that my new nickname would be Inappropriate Question Tattoo Guy or IQTG for short!
[The sequence ended once I gave myself the new nickname.]
That’s what I deal with on a nightly basis. Actually, this is how my mind works throughout the day as well!
***I don’t think I’m crazy!***
@PeteTeix617
