The Feinstone Report: 2/10/04
Who are you people?
As if you consumers could use a carrot on a stick to kick start your social tendencies. You people need a spur in your side like Paul Revere. He already had a reason to ride hard, and you people are already kicking that booze horse any faster. Well, my friends the red coats have come and savagely licked the beer kegs clean. Chicago and Jersey was represented this weekend.
Marty came down for a wedding, or maybe he just felt homesick for mindless debauchery and teenage women. Why do we always end up with teenage women? Why? Because we get older and they stay the same age. Because they are hot and their souls have not yet been corrupted by our savage juices and branding irons. Because, maybe, because they are still impressionable and we think we can mold clones of our personalities, as sick as it may seem. You'd think people like us would have been singled out with natural selection. Or maybe survival of the fittest has taken up a plague upon the mutated crop of nature's creations and formed people like you. As it is not enough to drink and gamble our lives on substances and misbehavior, we have to gamble our possessions and create games for consuming alcohol. I guess in most ways to try and live on the edge for the ultimate prize of winning it all. Whether it is every ones money or every one has died consuming mass quantities and you have survived. We are trying hard to be that Supreme Being.
Andrew Strohl and Brad Nugent rolled into town sooner than expected. And of course as they always do. They try and see how far they can push us Nebraska people until we break. It is like a younger brother trying to find out what his older brother can get them: “Can you get me porn? Maybe beer? Whiskey? Cigarrettes? Pot? Drugs?” They haven’t asked for hookers yet. Maybe cause we have too many whores. I would say we have a whole “Dish” full of whores. You could look in a “Trashley” can and find one. Or if you are a girl; Kent or Gardner put out.
Anyhow, Strohli and Brad came out because they like snow or something and met up with Martin in Omaha on Friday night at the Dublinder. Lots of whiskey and a folk band later, Mr. Pothoff’s residence was visited for after hours. Marty, of course, had engaged in a game of cards that included gambling. Some hippies wandered in, and broke Bruning’s pipe. Lowery was there, I guess his mother gave him a really late curfew that night. Who let the drugs in this weekend? Christ! Kerry hurt his knee and the party ended with some fights. Kerry vs. Marty and Kerry vs. Greg. It was like a Rocky movie, only Rocky did not come back and win a second time after losing. Hope you don’t feel like a pussy Kerry. I, along with several others, am scared of you.
It is pretty bad when your boozehound friends tell you to go home because it is eight in the morning and they have to sleep. Pussy’s.
The next day, I guess some of the good heathens visited the Grove for strippers and went to capital beach for a kick ass keggar. Greg wasn’t there. Guess he was with his new “most beautiful girl in the world” v-card holder. That fucker will chase tail when he is still in the mortuary. Somewhat jealous. The beach party was fun. Looks like Bruning went into the bedroom early with a female. He didn’t get laid, she wasn’t that fat and he never follows through. Fag. Maybe not gay, but Christ man, I have found cheap hookers better looking.
Things got crazy, Lilly didn’t show her boobs. The famous Nick and Chad showed up. Mexican Sam found us. Brad did a keg stand. The neighbors came over. And Kerry, the regulator, properly escorted them out with a barstool. Why do people have to be assholes, they stole my paper bag with mad dog 20/20. Yes, I was there in the shadows. Why didn’t those lesbians on the rafters show and tell a little. Next time you see one of both of them, group up and give them all a dollar for a nipple show.
The next morning, McMurtry sobered up and decided that he had a torn ligament. The Jersey crew decided they needed to go home and find God and talk to their mothers. I found myself a Japanese escort. Finally, the Nebraska people thought it was feasible to deal with a hangover without drinking to revive ourselves.
A few people to recommend for the Elk’s Club for the Evil are: Aaron LeBow, Matt Gardner, and Brad Nugent.
Think about it and give me some feedback.
Do you think Mike N. is getting busy with crazy Tony and Reagan? How long will Jason wander before finding a permanent residence? How soon will Kevin move in with Andrea? Will Fighting Ed get into another altercation? Now that Phil’s sister is 21 will anyone hook up with her? How much more sleazy will Trish and Ashley be now that they are both 21? Do I really need to keep rephrasing the obvious?
More socially prudent than most written procurer’s of reading,
“There he goes. One of gods own prototypes. A high powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live… and too rare to die.” Hunter S. Thompson
p.s.- I think this last quote should be a good description for Dr. Feinstone’s ego or maybe a mission statement. You decide.