'Are you a ninja?'

'Are you a ninja?' This was the question asked when I was introduced to a girl at my Friend Adam's going away party this past Saturday night(He's moving back to Philly in the middle of winter..Why??? Don't leave buddy!). Naturally my response was, 'Yes I am. I'm a member of the Cobra Kai Clan. Sweep the leg! Sweep the leg!' Her expression of utter blankness revealed that she was sincere with her question & that 'Karate Kid' reference flew right over her head( Damn I really showed my age with that one!). 'Oh shit were you serious.' 'Yes. I met some guys last weekend that were actual ninjas & you look like one of them.' I was morbidly fascinated because this is probably collectively the first & last time anybody will seriously ask me that question.

'Odd Question Girl' reminded me of my first month in San Diego when I had my 'Swingers' moment('Swingers' was the cult clasisc that Jon Favreau & Vince Vaughn starred in that was quoted ad nauseam & gave a new meaning to the term 'Money.' If you don't own it, buy it. What's wrong with you??!). It was late in the Summer of '98 & I was @ a houseparty, trying my best to be post-sober, looking for Mrs. Right-Now. I walked up to a Southern-California uber cute girl who was in line waiting for her turn @ the keg(For some reason girls like to hang out by the keg & the bathroom @ these functions. Why is that??? Hmmm!). I rolled up all full of piss & vinegar & said , 'Hi my name's Biff. What's your's?' With a look of utter disdain, she prudently eyed me up & down like a piece of meat & the replied, 'What do you drive?' I said, 'A Cavalier.' She turned around & walked away from me. S she left, I yelled out, 'It's silver!' Sigh....(That exact scenario played out in 'Swingers' only Favreaus's character said, 'It's red!'). Back to the future & the current party was in full swing. One of Adam's wife's friends proclaimed me an, 'Interesting Motherfucker' after I told him about the time that I was kicked out of Canada for mouthing off to a mountie among other things(Don't worry, that calamity will be included in a future installment!). I also made a brief pit-stop @ a neighbor's house for a snack. Smores quesadillas sound fucking disgusting, but they really are quite tasty!

But like any good time, the party has to end sometime. The keg was kicked & there was nothing left to drink. It was approaching 3am(Dead-Time!) so I decided to begin the 15 minute walk back to my house(You've got to love local house parties!). The streets were dark & barren. Clearly there wasn't any other living souls out this time of night(Morning!) aside from myself, vampires & hookers(Or so I thought!). Nothing could happen if I take a few shortcuts down some dark alleyways riiight??? Halfway down the sketchy alley, I decided that I really had to take a piss(That's one of the advantages of being a guy, The world is your urinal!). I began relieving myself on the side of a building when I heard a woman say, 'Nice weiner!' This startled me & I began to anxiously look around for this female creature. 'Up here silly!' I look up & to the left & my drunken eyes became fixated on a naked brunette smoking a cigarrette leaning over a balcony(It would have been some serious serendipity if it was my, 'Hot Naked Girl' from the gym. See my previous post, 'Tales of 'Hot Naked Girl' but it wasn't her.). 'Do you want some company?' involuntarily shot our of my mouth while my basest male instincts kicked in to over-drive. 'Biff like naked girl!' was the only thought repeatedly looping through my drunken brain. 'Well my boyfriend passed out in my bed probably wouldn't like that.' I began to pick my jaw up off of the floor & said, 'Bummer oh well. You're quite the exhibitionist aren't you?' 'You could say that. Modesty isn't one of my strong points obviously! Besides I saw your penis while you were pissing, so it's only fair that I share.' 'Tit for tat(Huge pun intended!)' I surmised. 'I like that!' 'Well I guess that I should go home & pass out now. Thanks for making my night Hot-Naked Girl Smoking a Cigarrette On Balcony!' 'My name's Missy.' 'Ok. Good night Hot-Naked Missy!' That night I fell asleep with sweet images of a nude Missy dancing around in my head. Not a bad way to end the night right??? Flashforward to Monday & I'm @ work relaying my 'Hot-Naked Missy' story to the masses @ work(Normally I keep most of these stories to myself & the blogosphere nowadays, but it was just too strange not to share! It's hilarious when I'm with somebody who says, 'This can't end up in your fucking blog okay?'). One of my co-workers wanted to know which alleyway my voyeur shennanigans happened in. I told him & then jokingly asked if he was going to start walking down that alleyway @ 3am. 'No way dude! Saturday night just one alley down form you, two of my friends were held up @ gunpoint right around the time when you were getting your jollys.' WHAT????? Am I a lucky motherfucker or what??? Just one wrong turn & there's no 'Hot-Naked Missy' just a mugging! Once again a 'Hot-Naked Girl' keeps me on the righteous & proof-positive once again how my life can be like a fucking cartoon!

'The Martini Incident'

Have you ever been really drunk??? I mean reeaaally drunk. Not just your casual down a six-pack &/or a bottle of cheap red wine & wake up with a splitting headache & there's a chupacabra she-beast in bed with you. No I'm talking about professional binge-drinking to the point of hallucination & an old-fashioned stomach pumping. If you'e ever pledged a fraternity, went to college @ Cal U, lived in Ocean City or just lived with my sorry ass, then you know exactly what I'm talking about & I've probably directly participated in making you puke your ever-loving guts out(You're welcome!).

There have been various points in my life when I didn't just want to casually get drunk. I was on a missin to do some serious damage. One of the more significant occurances that sticks out in my fuzzy mind was from the tine that I logged in Philadelphia. In 2001 I kind of went through a, 'What does it all mean?' phase & moved from my beloved San Diego to Philadelphia(I still shake my head in disbelief as to why I would submit myself to such tedium or as my close friends repeatedly asked, 'Why Biff why? Are you a fucking moron?'). I wanted to make a big change, so I packed up the U-Haul & off to Philly I trekked. Nine vehicular breakdowns later(This will be discussed in a future post. God it fucking sucked!), I was in the 'City of Brotherly Love.'

I spent exactly one year & ten months in Philadelphia before I wised up & moved back to San Diego. During my brief tenure, I managed to date a former acrobat from Ringling Brothers & Barnum & Bailey Circus(Oh yes that actually happened!) & I cemented some friendships that will last a lifetime. In a short period of time, I moved in with a surfing friend of a friend named Dennis. We immediately hit it off I think because we had very similar twisted senses of humor & were both reformed fratboys(Sort of...Well...I won't lie. Not really!). We settled into our palatial bachelor estate in Manayunk just outside of downtown, but close enough to the ghetto to ensure that my soft-top jeep got broken into 5 fucking times! This house was 113 years old, had 4 stories on it, was part of the 'Underground Railroad' & also a whorehouse in the early 80's. This place looked like it was designed & built by Dr.Seuss! There were low ceilings. Doors that led to nowhere & various odd angled walls that just didn't make a lick of sense(You know, character!). But I digress, I want to tell you about the night that solidifed mine & Dennis's friendship for life & damned near killed me. This night has since been dubbed, 'The Martini Incident.'

This cold Philadelphia Saturday started out like any other, we threw our surfing gear into Dennis's truck & headed to the Jersey Shore(Yes that Jersy Shore where those orange-hued mongoloids currently have a show on MTV!) to surf some artic waves(I say artic because it was winter & the water temperature was a balmy 45 fucking degrees!). After about 3 hours of sloshing around in the Atlantic Ocean, we headed back home & were amped because we were supposed to meet up with our friend Andy @ a bar within walking distance from our house. On said trip back, Dennis keeps going on and on about how amazing of a bartender he is & that he wants to make us some martinis. There's something that you need to know about Dennis's bartending skills; He will either make you a drink that tastes like candy & IT will sneak up on you like a ninja & smack you in the head or he will make you a drink that tastes like antifreeze w/a broken glass chaser(Rocket fuel comes to mind!) & is guaranteed to make you puke &/or blackout essentially taking years off of your life.

Slowly, but surely I bought into bartender Dennis's martini dinner grandois plan. The only problem was by the time we got home, we had completely forgotten about eating any form of a dinner & commenced to the making of the martinis. I should have known better. There were red flags galore. But I trudged on! Dennis began the gathering of his martini supplies like a maniacle grinning child ready to show off his most prized Star Wars action figures. With 'Reveran Horton Heat' blaring in the background at ungodly decibles(Dennis explained to me that you have to listen to The Rev's song 'Martini Time' while drinking your martini. Who the hell was I to argue this logic???) Dennis brought out a half bottle of Absolut Vodka & 4 bottles of Banker's Club Vodka(This swill literally tastes like turpentine by the way!), Cheap Cooking Wine(Because we had no Vermuth.), & Cocktail Onions for a little flavor. With a twinkle in his eye Dennis exclaimed, 'Relax these are my infamous 'Ghetto Martini's! We're gonna be A-OK!!!'

Just reading that past paragraph you can see how this is a recipe for disaster for a couple of idiots in their late 20's who have serious 'Peter Pan Complexes' & a penchant for property damage right??? You have been warned. Anyhoo...Moving on. It was around 4pm as we began 'Martini Time' dehydrated from surfing earlier & not eating a scrap of dinner. The first couple of 'Ghetto Martinis' tasted like Battery Acid which was just a step above 'EVIL.' 'EVIL' was the moonshine that we had in a mason jar residing in the refridgerator. It tasted so godawful, so unholy, that we thought it had to be 'satan's actual piss' so we put a strip of tape across the jar & wrote 'EVIL' on it. Then everytime we had company, Dennis & I would take great pleaseure in asking our guests if they'd like to know, 'What 'EVIL' tastes like?' & then erupt in fits of laughter when the first few layers of skin would melt off of our victim's tongue! About 4 martinis in, we had to move on to the Banker's Club vodka. At this point of the evening we were full of piss & vinegar & throwing various small pieces of furniture out of the second story window while screaming creative obscenities at the top of our lungs for the world(Or at least our poor, suffering neighbors!) to hear.

Eventually we got bored, but continued to drink our horrible martinis just as fast as we could make them! Dennis decided to turn on the movie, 'Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas.' This is a classic piece of cinema with Johnny Depp playing our titular hero Hunter S. Thompson, who with his Samoan lawyer(Played expertly by Benicio Del Toro!) go on a drug-fueled bender in Las Vegas full of hallucinations & hilarity. He couldn't have picked a better movie for our state of mind that night! It was so interesting that I commenced to pass the fuck out after a few more gasolione martinis. I was eventually woken by the sound of 'Johnny Depp playing Hunter S. Thompson' yelling, 'Biff! Biff! Wake the fuck up you pussy!' I immediatley stumbled off the couch & was transfixed to the television. I knew that I was hallucinating, but 'Johnny Depp playing Hunter S. Thompson' broke the 5th wall & was staring right at me from the television set & he was pissed!

'Why pray tell have you stopped drinking Biff!?!' 'Gee, I don't know 'Johnny Depp playing Hunter S. Thompson.' 'Well that's not how we do it around here asshole! You need to get with the fucking program! That cheap-ass vodka isn't gonna finish itself now is it!????' 'No sir.' 'That's right Biff! Now march your stupid ass into the kitchen & make me proud!!!'

Now in my hallucinatory, drunken stupor, this sounded like a pretty good fucking idea! I stumped into thekitchen stepping over a passed-out Dennis who was lying face-down on the floor. He had attempted to grill some sort of pork product, but failed to turn the stove off & his snack was burned into a grisled, black hockey puck. I turned off the stove & that's the last thing that I remember that night...

I woke up upside-down, halfway up the stairwell to my room. It felt like an H-Bomb had went off in my head & somebody had used my balls as a punching bag. Then I heard Dennis moaning somewhere downstairs asking me if I had puked in a bucket in his room? All that I could muster from my dry throat was a weak, 'FUUUUCK YOOUUUU!' I eventually made it downstairs where it looked like the Tasmanian Devil had a seizure in our house. We had done some serious damage. There was not a drop of vodka left. For those of you keeping score at home, that a half bottle of Absolut & 4 bottle of Banker's Club Vodka between 2 idiots!

This was right around the time that I had the brilliant idea of cooking some hamburgers on the gas grill behind the house. I found the meat patties & started hitting the button on the grill to click a spark & ignite the gas. It wasn't working, so I kept cranking the gas & clicking. Still nothing! I ran inside to get matches, not realizing that the gas was still on just cranking out fumes. I came back outside & stuck a match. BOOOOOM!!!! A fireball shot like a rocket directly at my face! I only had a split second to react as I arched & fell directly on my back as I rolled down the steps. I ran up the stairs to the bathroon with my eyes closed screaming. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, Please let me still have eyebrows!!! I stood in front of the mirror & cautiously opened my eyes. Both of my eyebrows were still connected to my face(Thank God!), but the top of my spiked hair was singed & smoking & the house just reeked of burnt hair. I also noticed that all of the hair on my right arm had burned off as well(It never fully grew back either!). I took a deep breath & ordered a pizza for delivery. I was a walking calamity & refused to leave the house that day.

There was some debate between Dennis & I as to who actually puked. We both blacked out, so we weren't quite sure. Well I had the shakes for the next 3 days, was completely pale & couldn't rehydrate myself to save my life, while Dennis was fine. Guess who puked folks! To this day I have not had a martini, 'ghetto' or otherwise, & if 'Johnny Depp playing Hunter S.Thompson' decides to break the 5th wall again & rally me to drink & I'm going to tell him to go fuck himself!

-ADDENDUM-

Dennis e-mailed me some of the finer points of the evening that I missed:

1. It was chicken, not pork. SO much better rare.
2. I totally forgot about the grill fireball...hehehehe
3. You forgot, you have to pour the bankers club into the Absolut bottle, to make you forget that you're drinking bankers club.
4. I still don't know what was up with the wet paper wads covering the ceiling. Maybe Johnny Depp knows.
5. It's not even 8:00 a.m. and I'm thirsty.

Manic Introspection

For New Year's Eve this year I decided to be alone. Don't get me wrong, I had some party invites(I'm not a complete social misfit!) & my buddy Tony really wanted me to go on a bender & get thrown out of The Silver Fox with him, but I really need a night to sit back, take a deep breath & reflect on 2009 by myself. Listening to The Clash-'Live at Shea Stadium' & stripping old surfwax off of my surfboard while gingerly downing a bottle of Chimay(Very high alcohol content. It will get you where you want to go!) was how my evening began.

God 2009 really fucking sucked. I know it's cliche to bash the old year on New Years, but I truly had a love/hate relationship with 2009. As much as I hated it, I needed it to happen. I hot rock-bottom on 10/13/09. Here's verbatim my update on Facebook: 'Let's play a little game called, 'Does your life suck more than mine?' Break up w/fiancee-CHECK, Lose your job-CHECK, top that off w/a sinus & ear infection-CHECK! How has your month been?????????????' Ugh...I just cringed re-typng that. This triple-whammy caught me at a point in my life where I needed to grow the fuck up & be a man. I hated my job. Lost track of friends & funneled all of my energy into helping the ex-fiancee move out to San Diego, not realizing that she was just using me to get here 'to find herself(What a load of horse-shit!).' I was coasting through my life. I literally felt like I didn't have a soul for a while there. But I clawed my way out of the rut & started rebuilding my life one day at a time. Much like my surfboard stripped clean of the salty, dirty wax, I was a clean slate. I can fill said slate with anything that I want, love, hate, indifference(Hopefully more of #1 & #3!).

Halfway through my bottle of Chimay, I've moved on to watch a movie(Music & movies are very important to me.). I've chosen Evil Dead 2(Because you know there were so many unasnwered questions from Evil Dead 1!). Why Evil Dead 2 do you ask? It's quote simple. I've loved this movie since I discovered it in high school. It's essentially rehashing the original, but with more of a budget & the 'What The Fuck' factor amplified to 11! This movie established Bruce Campbell as a god in my world(He plays the main character Ash. He literally beats the shit out of himself with his possesed hand which he has to cut off with a chainsaw. He then fastens said chainsaw to his handless stump & commences to kick all sorts of holy ass! If you like Bruce Campbell, you should check out his book, 'If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor.' You won't be disappointed. Besides, us guys with big heads & distinguished jaw-lines need to stick together!). I also, used this movie to gauge how 'cool' my high-school girlfriends were. I guess what really stands out for me about this movie is that no matter how bad of a day I'm having, Ash is always having a worse one!

So I've killed my bottle of Chimay & with a bit of a 'buzz-on' I am now listening to Nine Inch Nails, 'Pretty Hate Machine' & I'm going to fill you in on what I'm thankful for in my world through my lovely personal filter(These are in no particular order so #1 might not really be #1. Just humor me & roll with it ok!?):

1.) Thank God for Punk-Rock & Surfing!: I'm serious here. Like I had mentioned before, music & movies are very important to me, but surfing is like breathing! My music is the soundtrack to my life. Fugazi, Ministry, Skinny Puppy, Nine Inch Nails, The Clash, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Nirvana, Beastie Boys, just to name a collect few. I can place & relate a song to any aspect, moment or emotion that I've had in my life. I also sincerely believe that I would go into convulsions & die if moved too far inland from the ocean(See my previous blog post entitled, 'My backyard sucks' for more deets!).

2.) Macksim: On December 20th, my little sister & her husband had a beautiful baby boy named Macksim. I get to be the cool uncle in San Diego now! So the pressure's off for me to have a kid now riiiight Mom(Somehow I doubt it. She has these insane maternal powers of guilt!)? Welcome Macksim. This world is a better place because you're in it pal!

3.) I'm alot stronger than I thought I was: When my shit-storm of a life came crashing down on me, I thought that I was just going to crawl under a rock in the fetal position & die. But that didn't happen. At first I was angry, then that anger turned into motivation(Maybe Rage Against the Machine was onto something when they said, 'Anger is a gift!). That motivation got my creative juices flowing again after an extremely long drought. This instilled a new confidence in me as an individual & really helped me to become comfortable in my own skin again.

4.) My friends are great: I cherish & am loyal to every friend that I have(Sometimes to a fault!). It's always interesting to find out who steps up when you go through something in your life that is tragic/traumatic. I'm happy to say that my friends came through for me in spades! They gave me the initial space that I needed, but were there for me when I eventually reached out & wanted to talk or just hang out & have a beer or give me the proverbial kick in the ass. I salute you all & will be there for you when you need me.

5.) Write on!: It's strange how we as humans, somethimes can only learn through pain & an interesting side-effect of working though my pain was writing. I used to write short stories all the time when I was younger & as I got older, I just kind of put it up on a shelf & forgot. After the breakup, it felt like I had this other-worldly force pushing down on me forcing me to write. This proverbial monkey on my back was shouting, 'You have a voice & people need to hear it! You must write again!!!' Well I listened to my monkey & started this lovely blog that you're reading right now(I've also started writing short-stories again, but I'm not quote ready to share those yet!). Writing for me is very therapeutic & it sure beats the shit out of slamming my head against the wall reapeatedly. I've gotten alot of positive feedback about my blog & I promise that I'll keep it honest & real & will continue to entertain &/or piss you off for many years to come!

6.) I'm no longer unemployed: You heard that right. I did find another job about 3.5 weeks ago. It's going well so far, but I learned a very valuable lesson from being jobless multiple times this past year, I will no longer stay complacent. I just can't. You must always keep your eyes open for new opportunities(I'm still looking into many other fields that I feel will be more satisfying for me in the long run.). Don't ever let your life become stagnant & stale. Strive to be a better human being & find something to do that makes you happy! The name of my blog will not change though. There's still plenty of areas in my life where I'm still unemployed!

7.) I wear my heart on my sleeve & I'm fucking proud of it! The utter failure of my engagement in October hasn't fettered my resolve. I'm a sensitive, emotional, articulate guy. Good or bad, I wear my emotions on my sleeve. I put myself out there & I got smacked. Did I love her? Abso-fucking-lutely. Was I crushed when it didn't work out? Oh hell yes! Would I put my self out there & do it all over again with somebody new? Yes indeedy! I feel like I'm ready to start dating again & wouldn't mind finding a new relationship this year(God help this poor woman!). Who knows maybe I'm destined to just have 'shared-moments' with women for finite periods in my life. Maybe I'll find a woman who really 'gets' me(It's always nice to bet 'gotten.' It makes me full of 'smit!'). I will put myself out there again & see who comes calling...

I'm now on my second bottle of Chimay(I am going to feel this tomorrow!) & am listening to The Ramones('Beat on the Brat with a Baseball Bat' indeed!). I'll leave you with this parting nugget about the the biggest wave that I've ever surfed back in the winter of '97(15 plus feet!). Deep in the heart of Costa Rica, my crew & I rolled up to Jaco hearing what we thought was the sound of thunder. It was actually the sound of waves crashing down. This was really heavy & dangerous. We all had been back at college for 3 months binge-drinking & basically falling out of surfing shape. This was the biggest surf that any of us had ever seen. We were scared shitless, but suited up & paddled out anyway. We barely made it over a couple of close out sets & after paddling for what seemed like an hour, we finally made it out into the lineup. I pulled out of the first 2 waves that I went for becaue I was literally was afraid for my life at that point. If I made a mistake out here, I could die. I finally mustered up enough courage & looked to the horizon. A giant set wave was rolling in & was coming right for me. A surge of adrenaline shot through me like a lightning bolt & I let out a primal scream at the wave, 'COME ON YOU MOTHER-FUCKER! YOU'RE MINE!!!!!!' I started padding with all of my might. There was no turning back now. Sink or swim. It's time to earn your wings bitch! I felt this humongous wave catch me & I was alomst in a free fall, but I was standing & still connected to my board. I made it down the face & bottom-turned with all of my might & it felt like I was being shot out of a cannon. I had made it to the bottom & now I had to use the speed to get myself further down the face of the wave so I wouldn't get creamed. After cruising on this wave for what seemed like an eternity, I finally popped out of the otherside beating my chest & screaming like a banshee. I had made it! This wave & the memory of it carries me to this day. I took a chance & was rewarded handsomely. Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity. I challenge all of you to do something, anything in 2010. Just go for it. If you fail. Who fucking cares! At least you tried & you can try as many times as you'd like or move on to something else. Just do something. I'm almost done with my second bottle of Chimay & will most-certainly have a hangover tomorrow(ARGH!), so here's my parting shot. My 2 token New Year's Resolutions:

1.) Lose 10 pounds.

2.) Quit swearing so fucking much!