Brandy’s New House

Brandy is in a really nice new group home in Winston-Salem and so Mom and Sister Holly and m’self converged there for the home’s Christmas Party…the guy in the middle (Bo) was real sad because he couldn’t get to his family’s home…the story was they didn’t want him there this Christmas…that is Mom to the right, her hair still falls out on account of her chemotherapy that she receives every month or so,  she wears that skull cap. Sister Holly in red behind Beverly, the house Mom. Obviously that’s m’self bending over in another totally gay representation of m’self.

I could never do television because I am too weird looking in photos, so it’s got to carry over in television. When I look at myself in the mirror, I really like me, when I see myself in a photo, I really don’t like me.

Question: Does the camera lie or do our eyes lie? As far as I am concerned, it could go either way. I mean because, which view is real? Cameras make people look totally different sometimes.

Whatever dude man.

Christmas Mishap 1982

Late December 1982.

I had borrowed $50.00 from Paul “Stonewall” Jackson to buy a Christmas gift or two and a bus ticket to get from Wilmington to Charlotte where my Mom lived, the family was converging for a few days for Christmas and I was broke as sh**.  I found out this past year why that was…in my Social Security statement from the government I saw my earnings for 1982…$8,240.00.

A full time radio job working the midday at WHSL for a little over 8k a year.

My paycheck wasn’t even $300.00 every two weeks, I had to survive on about $600.00 a month. Hopefully I had a remote that month.

I am saying there were times my dinner was a cardboard soy heat ‘em-up burger from the Zip Mart on the corner which was only $1.29, and that on at least two separate occasions,  I had to get the station manager to lend me one month’s rent to avoid getting evicted, and my rent was only $290.00 a month.

That’s how bad it was.

As I settled down into my seat on the Greyhound bus, the little old lady in front of me released her seat sending it backwards and knocking my steaming cup of coffee into my lap. A circular wet spot right there in my groin which made it lool like you know what, that I had pissed my pants.

“Hold on a second driver!!”

I raced into the restroom to dry off and they had those push-button dryers which were chest-high so as the dryer blew hot air I had to keep thrusting upward to get it to dry out my soaked lap. I KNOW what that looked like.

Right then a father brought his little boy in to use the restroom and you never heard such a gasp come out of a man’s mouth.

“You’re gonna have to hold it son.” As he shoved him out of the room.

How Embarrassing

There’s a sign before you get to the railroad overpass that says 12” 4’ meaning your truck better be less than that or you might have a predicament like this guy had Wednesday.

Dude.

A Michelob Ultra truck miscalculated. This happened at West & Peace St. in Raleigh, you just shake your head as you drive by staring and you ask yourself  “would I do something like that?”

No I wouldn’t. Really? Yes really. I would know if my truck would pass under a bridge or not, and it looks like the dude kept going after the truck got stuck too.