Wierd…

I just got a phone call.  It was kind of wierd though, wait, hold on, before I tell you about the phone call I need to back up and let you know about some of the events that led to this phone call…

Yesterday after work I was feeling pretty down so I decided to try and get in touch with the people again.  Everyone once in a while I veer a little off course and say things I regret.  It’s what makes me me.  I always say that I’m honest to a fault.  I am, I say what’s on my mind.  I don’t really have a filter.  You see if I take time to think about something I can find all kinds of reasons not to say them.  Now, what fun would that be?  That wouldn’t be me quite frankly.  If I dipped my toe into every pool to test the waters I wouldn’t be the succes I am today.

So, my head was down and I was feeling a little low, so I do what millions of Americans do in this country.  I went to go gamble at Delaware Park and drink some beers.  I thought to myself, “self, you need to go win some money to make things right again.  A few beers will raise your spirits too.”  So me, myself and I went out.  I took my credit card that had a picture of a Rainbow on it and skipped out the door.

As I left my house, I stopped for a second and thought to myself again that I need to look around and see the awesome things that people in this country, more specifically state have brought fortunate people like myself.  I looked at my home and wondered if a beaner had ever hammered a roof nail into my 3500 sq foot home.  I hoped so.  The melting pot that is America should be built by wet-backs as far as I’m concerned.  Then I wondered if that beaner worked for one of Delaware’s famous murdering dago construction companies.  I shook my head in amazement at the diversity and welled up when I thought about the contributions that taco-tasters and wops tirelessly worked on. 

I hopped into my kraut built whip and thought again (as I inserted the key) about how incredible it is that a hun, had the engineering mind to construct such a wonderful machine.  The people’s car they call it I think.  I am awe struck at how people are able to build something I use every day to pick up mississippi blue gums in Hilltop when I need a dime bag to keep me going during the hard times.  I had never stopped to think about those beer chugging bastards in that way and I am sorry I hadn’t sooner. 

I soon forgot about heading to the apple orchard known as Delaware park.  I was driving down a newly paved road on 202 and I couldn’t help but start to think again of the snowbacks.  Those little fuckers worked hard to get this road paved for Astra Zeneca to lay off a few thousand employees a year later.  I don’t fault the Limey bastard for laying of all those people though.  There is nothing wrong with acting like a 5 by 2.  After all, the CEO is only trying to do right by the wasps that own a majority of his company.  Those people have needs too.  Why, without them I wouldn’t have gained 30 lbs taking an anti-anxiety pill last year.

After I passed Astra Zeneca I pulled into a gas station.  I didn’t want to use my credit card for this purchase.  Instead I thought it would be best to hand my money to the camel jockey behind the counter.  That dune coon was smiling like a porch monkey on the first day of the month, when I told him to fill’er up with super and give me a box of your finest slim jimss.  The wog, his slave wife and 17 kids were more than happy to offer me disposable lighter and some $18 motor oil.  I smiled, said no thanks and waived the peace sign to them.  We are fighting for their freedom after all so I know they appreciate all the honkeys like myself saying hello and buying the stuff they get at costco.

After I filled the car up with the over priced dune-juice, it was time to head to the JCC.  They were having some typical schmooze fest.  They were serving free finger food, so I know I had to get in their early and beat the older hebe’s before they got all that kosher food.  I poke fun about them when I get there.  You’d think they were worried about another holocaust the way they eat.  They chuckle and move on when the food is gone usually.  So after kibitzing with a few young kyke’s I decides that I wasn’t going to get anywhere trying to land some diamond deals.   I had to roll that bagel shop anyway, the night was getting on and I didn’t need to stick around to see their horns come out. 

Now, on to the real part of the evening I said to myself and away I went in my kracker mobile.  I was off to this bumpin Nig-nog joint on the east side.  I usually go there to score some rock on Tuesday’s.  Last night though, I was just there to drink some Heineken and suck on some wings.  These dude’s were rollin heavy last night and things started to get real sketchy when I rolled in.   I made some comment about all of them wearing gold teeth and pants that hung around their knees a little to loudly to some pigeon on a bar stool.  Apparently you call a quashie a smoked iIishman and they get all enraged.  I was like woah, woah,  sooty, it’s cool, it’s cool.  I understand your plight.  My grand-daddy PAID your people, when he didn’t have too.  I’m one of you boonies.   

You see my grand-daddy had a cotton farm in Hermanville, Ms.  He had his kids picking cotton right alongside “those niggers”  his words not mine mind you.  He said his children weren’t above doing “nigger work” his words night mind I stress.  He didn’t like to put the word “work” next nigger he said more than once….

That reminds me, I remember this one time when I was at the Meridian NAS I visited Grand-dad.  Me-ma fixed me up a great meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes that evening.  After supper was done, she shooed Earl and I out the door and said, “Take donviti to the mall and watch the niggers”  It was great fun going to the mall and listening to Grand-daddy call the niggers, lazy coons.  He didn’t know better, but that was ok.  You can’t change people when they are that old.

After we got done sight-seeing we went home and watched “the niggers play basketball”  Me-ma loved “watching them run up and down the court.  They are so athletic.” she’d say

Awww, I loved her.  Those memories will never leave me.  So when things got heavy at the club I took my rock and scooted that joint.  I didn’t want people to think I was a racist.  The night was still young so I decided to drive around and look for a place that had some fags.  I needed to relax and those guys are so easy going.  I found a spot that has great Martini’s.  I went in, sat down in a chair and start sipping on my tini.  This one boy comes up to me and asks me how I was.  I told him I wanted to blow off some steam and needed a shirtlifter to make me feel better.   I felt like such a pansy telling him all that but as I let my feelings out I could feel myself getting better.  The twink got a little upset when I told him he didn’t know how to dress.  I apologized and told him I meant it in the nicest way.  I got up and left.  I was tired of being made to feel like I was the bad guy.  I can’t help it if some queer is all emotional when I’m not attracted to him.

So, after a long night on the town I decided to come home to my lovely wife.  I forgot to mention that I left her tied up to the refrigerator before I went out.  I figured she had made me my dinner like she was supposed to earlier.  I don’t ask much from her.  I buy her clothes when she needs them.  there is nothing wrong with expecting a hot meal when I come home.   

But, don’t you know when I got home, the bitch was gone!  It wasn’t the first time she got away from me, I try to be nice and not make the knots too tight.  I figured she’d be back sooner or later.  She has no I.D. or car unless I give them to her.  So I slept it off and figured I should get a good nights sleep before I head into work.

So there I was laying in bed this morning and the phone rings. 

“hello?”  I said a little stunned due to the call being at 6:38 in the morning. 

“Is this Donviti?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“It’s your credit card company sir.  Some dumb coon, tried to steal your platinum poofer card.  He used it at some curry muncher’s gas station last night.  The dumb bastard then went and bought some Mead beer and got totally krunked.   We were a step behind him for a little while.  Apparently after he got drunk on ghetto juice he went to a border-bunny joint and racked up a few hundred peso’s worth of tequila and taco’s.  Shortly there after it appears that he went shopping for some bling and took his time picking out some of the finest christ-killer diamonds known on the East Coast.  We finally shut the card down after he we discovered it wasn’t you using the card.  Not after he used your card at the Cowboy-killer Casino though….”

I interupted the young lady loudly.  I couldn’t believe my fucking ears,”Just who do you think you are?  What gives you the right to call a person this early in the morning?”

She apologized and said she would call back at 8 am if that was ok with me.

I said,”It’s ok hadji’s don’t know better I guess.  It’s an honest mistake.  I can’t expect you people to know what time it is from India.”

So that was wierd huh?  A credit card company called at 6:38 in the morning?