The Farmingdale Trip. Part 2

Okay, when I said I was going to be stopping in the middle of writing said blog I didn't think I was actually going to end it prematurely with "To Be Continued." Therefore, I half-heartedly apologize for it, I can't apologize fully, because no one reads this fucking blog anyway.

So, yes, I finish watching Die Simpsons (German) and I go out with Theresa as she's buying stuff for her party she's having (her birthday was Monday, but she had a party on Saturday) and I went along for the ride. Before we go shopping we go to Marino's Pizza, home of the greatest fucking Bufallo Chicken Pizza known to man, and Theresa demands that she pay, since I paid for Applebees, so I let her. I wasn't too happy about it, because I like paying. I'm one of those types of guys. There's seldom of us left. After we polish off our food, my mouth burns like a whores AIDS ridden vagina.....We arrive at Costco, or Buy-A-Lot, or BJs, I can't really recall (maybe it's because all of these bulk companies look the same) and we wind up buying nothing, because in a stark-realization, Theresa realizes that she doesn't 150 red cups, or 35 potatoes, or 85 hot-dog and hamburger rolls. I concede, because unless they're selling a lifetime supply of BottleCaps (the delicious candy) I do not want any.

After the Bulk-Buying (or lack there of) is done; we shoot to Pathmark, where I run into Chris McCrory, whom I haven't seen in at least five years. Five fucking years. The dude has been living somewhere other than New York (NH...I can't spell) and he's got this baby in the cart. The only thing I can think to say was "Is that yours?" and immediately after saying it, I felt stupid. I felt like a surge of stupidity rose up into my throat and spat out this ridiculousness. He said "Yes" and he said "He's cute" and in all my blunder of stupidity, I forgot to introduce Theresa - and just kind of stared at the kid for a moment, and Chris McCrory, who was buying shit with coupons. I notice, right then, that I am not ready for kids, or coupons.

After Pathmark, we buy stuff, that I can't remember. We have a conversation about the lovely Cookie-Club that Pathmark used to have, and then we leave. After Pathmark, we head to the Sunrise Mall, which is basically the same piece of shit that it was when I lived on Long Island. You're upper-classing a mall that's filled with black people, spanish people, and stupid white people. Blah. Regardless, we go into a few stores, nothing to write home about, and I wind up buying another XM Radio from Wal-Mart. I bought it, mainly because, the price tag was wrong. The price tag read "34.97" when in actuality it was "58.97" or whatever. Customer is always an asshole, therefore, I got my shit for $35 bucks, and not some inflated crazy $60 beans.

After Wal-Mart, I feel bad, because Theresa's taking me all over the World. And to explain it unlike an asshole, I mean, that she's just asking me where I want to go, and not thinking about herself. On a side note, I don't know why people do this to me. I don't understand why I have to be the voice of fucking decision, I can't decide what socks to wear in the fucking morning, let alone where I want to eat lunch. We go to the Comic Store, Serious Comix, where I talk to Chris for a few minutes, before leaving, because it fucking depresses me to go there once, when I used to go every week. Other than the people, I think I miss that place more than anything. Seriously. After that, we go somewhere, Best Buy maybe, where I buy King Kong 2-Disc, Northern Exposure Season 1, Orgazmo, and Dave Chappelle's Block Party. I have the most dis-interested Best Buy cashier pull up my Best Buy Credit Card info, since I forgot it, and she obliges (half-heartedly) and rings me up for my sale.

After Best Buy, I don't even really know what happens, I could be wrong, but I think that Borders came before Best Buy, but my days are skewed, because of my impending sickness, that I'm probably fucked in the head. Anyway, after Best Buy, or after Borders, Theresa drops me off at Marc's house, whereas I am greated with Steak, and burger. Awesome steak and burgers (not like the Dads, but close) and then I drive Marc and myself, somewhere, I don't know, Circuit City, Target, Toy's R Us, Liquor Store, etc. All things happened, not necessarily in that order. Anyway, at the liqour store, I swear that I recognize the dude, I don't know his name, but I swear to fucking God, that I know the kid. So, I whip out the PA License which is such a piece of shit, I'd say it's a fake, and the kid takes a look at the ID, and I tell him that if it was fake, it would have a "Lock" emblem on the ID and not all of the fucking County names. He gives a (half-hearted...seems to be a trend) laugh and sells Marc and I booze.

We head back towards Marc's house, it's very possible that Target came after the Liquor store, but I really don't remember. I do remember drinking myself stupid, literally, drinking any liquid (not alcohol) I could get my hands on. If I knew that this was JD getting sick, I would've fucking wrapped myself in a blanket and shivered somewhere in a dark cave. After getting back to Marc's house, we pop open a bottle of this "Zombie" shit, and pour it over ice. Now let me explain what this "Zombie" shit is; it's premixed to a sickening perfection that leaves you wanting more of the blue-water looking murder. It's disgusting, and wildly fantastic. After you drink one glass, the second, third, and fourth go down like...water. The drink is actually topped with a rum (supposedly 151, but no fucking way) that's nearly as strong as 151. I don't have a bottle of the crap in front of, because I don't drink much liquor, but I was feeling pretty good about getting fucking wasted so I ...went for it. Anyway, a short time later, TMK aka The Matthies Kid, calls and tells me an interesting story. A story so interesting, I can't write it here (consider yourselves lucky). I, without hesitation, say that the hot tub needs to be had, so TMK comes over and Marc and I go into the sweltering hot tub two days in a row.

I haven't seen TMK in a while, and I was so fucking bombed that I barely remember seeing him this time. And I think the fact that I was drunk and in a hot tub, made me sicker. I could be wrong, but the next morning/afternoon, I felt even worse. Anyway, some interesting conversation is made in the hot tub, but what's said in the hot tub stays in the hot tub.

To Be Continued (SORRY!)