Monday, January 23, 2006

A Taste of City Life

Thus far I have received 13 entries for the blog naming contest. If you havent entered yet, I expect that you will do it soon. Either post entries on this blog or the one where the contest was announced. Click on the comments link at the bottom of the post and fire one off from there. Also, February 6th is fast approaching and besides my crippling fear of public speaking, I think I will be ready. People have asked, but I dont know if you have to buy tickets in advance. Generally you do not because not that many people go to watch amateur night.

This past Thursday I saw the Father of the Year at a liquor store. Maybe you noticed that the "Father of the Year" was spotted at a liquor store and detected the sarcasm, but maybe not. This gentleman, sporting corn rows and fluent Spanish, waltzed into the liquor store with 2 kids who's combined age was no greater than 9. Now I don't speak Spanish, but I did see him kneel down and look his kids right in their eyes and say something that ended with "nada." I am assuming he told them not to touch anything, because they immediately congregated in front of a shelf that housed various economy rums and vodkas. With his kids standing like statues in front of the Rubinoff, Daddy went to the back of the store. At this point I had made my way to the counter and I was paying.
Still as curious as a cat, I watched as Super Dad returned from the cooler in the back and moved towards the counter. I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but as his little statues sprung to life to join him at the counter, I could see that my vision was not impaired at all. Papa was carrying a 12 pack of Natural Ice. It appears now that my initial impression was wrong. Drawing on my own personal experience of wrestling with the Natty Ice 12 pack (blacking out and waking up NEXT to a dumpster, 5 inch scar on my arm from tripping over a bathtub and ripping it open on a jagged soap dish, yes that was all the same night), I concluded that he wasn't babysitting his kids at all, it was their night to take care of him. Way to go Father of the Year, may your kids stay out of juvenile hall until they are at least 14.

Saturday night, I was on a mission to find a "slump buster." Myself and a few others were planning on going out and finding "fat whores with low self esteem." What happened next is so chock full of cruel irony that I am having trouble typing this story. We made our way to Boston Billiards around midnight. We walked in and I chose the first open seat and me and my two partners in crime set up shop. Before long, a beautiful young lady who was "off duty" approached us and aked us if we wanted to do some shooters. She sais she worked there but tonight she was just hanging out. She was hot and we were hammered so we said sure, bring onthe shooters. Several shots and several more dollars later, it was near closing time and not one of had spoken to the aforementioned fat whores with low self esteem. Reflecting on this the day after, I came to a conclusion.
My friends and I turned out to be the fat whores with low self esteem. We were on a mission to basically just get some ass and we were sidetracked by a girl with a nice rack who we all knew wasn't even going to leave the table with us, let alone go back to one of our apartments. She must have thought to herself, here are 3 hammered dudes who will most certainly not say no to shots served by beautiful women. I think I will help my friend the shot girl out. Just like if I scouted out a beast that I thought would hook up with me, this off duty Boston Billiards employee decided she could get a bunch of money and several free shots out of the deal.
This is why I think shot girls should be illegal. They are generally among the hottest chicks employed by their bars and they prey on drunk men like Steve Irwin hunts crocodiles. Notice, next time you are out that they never lead in with "I'm selling shots for 6 bucks a piece." Oh no, its more along the lines of "WHO WANTS A SHOT OUT OF MY TITS!!" Of course all the guys nearby hop in line. You never think to ask a price on something like that. After you all down your boob shots, she comes at you with an absurd bill that no one wants to pay. Shot girls are no different that the late night sausage vendor that swindled me out of $21 a few months ago, other than the fact that they all have huge tits.
Needless to say, my night ended with a one mile walk home alone and a Tony's fucking Pizza. Hey, there's always next weekend.

10 Comments:

Anonymous Benny said...

you were fucking BILKED, DiOrio.... aboslutely hoodwinked.... stupid shooter sluts

8:27 PM  
Anonymous Ovy Trice said...

How about Matt Diorio: Cunning Linguist

11:33 PM  
Anonymous Meghan said...

I was reading one of your old blogs from november...wondering if it was too late to say how sweet skate or die was..and how it was impossible to skate off to the sides to pick which pipe you wanted to skate on. classic.

12:25 AM  
Anonymous adam diorio said...

More blog title suggestions...
-Bird Huntin' in the Concrete Jungle
-Captain Matt's Blog Cruise
-Keepin' the Dream Alive
-White Star in the Black Darkness of Jamaica Plain
-Hangin' Rats....

4:30 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Old C.MAC here

Dear Matty, and Dear Friends of Matty,

Of all the trying times I've followed Matty through, none were as potent and as terrible as the night we came to the following understanding....
We were at the cheapest Chinese food place we could find in old Manch Vegas...we were at the bar with a few other sorry souls. I was challenging my cohorts to dare me to steal a bottle of Jack Daniels from behind the bar when Matty told me. He said, " you know how we hate our whore housemate, Allie?". "yeah" i said, "she's the filthiest skank i ever lent my t.v. to". "Well", matty went on " I was taking a shower the other day and I decided I hated her so much that I would scrub my ass and balls with that lufa she leaves in the shower.I mean I really reached back with that thing" He laughed.
I laughed too and thought about what the fuck a lufa was...then, as my face went white and a sudden feelinf of helplessness fell over me I realized what fate had done to me. " Matty," Isaid " my mother gave me that lufa, I used it two hours ago". Since then, my nipples have fallen off, and the doc tells me not to swim in sewage anymore.

10:10 PM  
Anonymous Bruce D said...

First of all, how can you just up and leave a Red Barron Pizza for what ever you are eating now that you have joined the real world. Second, you should rip try bitching about the people who work in your (and my office) that tell the same stupid story to 12 different ppl in the same day. You know that dumb blonde that thinks her story about her cat is so fucking great. I know your dry humor is better then mine.

1:30 AM  
Anonymous Willisssssssss said...

MattDiorio.Com


Street Cred: Volume 1

10:04 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

how about this for a title:

Dating Your Hand: A love/hate story

or

Perry's Wet Smear: The Ruination of my life



from: coffin

12:04 PM  
Anonymous horse said...

if you can hear me diorio.....do it for B will and name the blog

BANDED(in the A.M.)
or
"i drank before i went to the bar then i got there, chilled for a few hours then left drank some more, and went back to the bar"

2:07 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i vote for "dating my hand: a love/hate story"

BaaaaHaHaHa

9:47 AM  

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