I Have a Dream!

Dude I had this fucking dicked up dream last night. It was fucked up. I was dreaming that I came home from work one day and instead of walking into the house and seeing my wife and daughter there was Juan Valdez and his trusty Donkey! A fucking BURRO in my living room!! So I walked over and started petting him and asked Juan what his name was and he told me it was Bartholemew. I started arguing with Juan Valdez himself about why Bartholemew is not a good name for a Donkey. Man, it was weird.

Little known fact: I once went with friends to a coffee house in NC during their "open mic night" and wrote down an ad-lib poem on a napkin and climbed on the stage to read it to everyone. I called myself Bartholemew Bartez and was approached afterward by a guy who asked me to join his poetry group.

Okay so the skin the cat story huh? Well a few years back my wife and I were living in North Carolina. We decided to come up to NY and visit my family over the holidays. Some very good friends of ours were also up north from NC and we worked out a meeting in NYC for New Years. Well we all met up in the city and spent the day wandering the streets like urban nomads. At some point throughout the day I felt it necessary to curse out an arab. I had to take a piss or something like that and he wouldn't let me because I didn't buy anything so I asked him, "Where the fuck are we....Kabul?" or something to that effect. Anyway we spent the day basically milling around and waiting for the night time and the festivities that come with it. Of course as we walked the streets of Manhattan I kept asking the group if we could go to the homeless shelter and volunteer serving food for a little while and I also seeked out panhandlers so I could throw money in their styrofoam cups and lecture them about how styrofoam is bad for the environment and contributes to global warming (talk about a run-on sentence!!). Later in the day we ate at Da Nico's down in little Italy that my good friend Joey Clams owns. After eating and me climbing a tree to save a kitten we were somewhat tired of walking so we descended the stairs into the vast underground network that is the NYC subway system. We bought our tokens and waited anxiously for our luxurious big silver train to come and stop to pick us up. When it finally did we stepped on. The train wasn't super crowded but it wasn't empty either. We all inhaled the glorious scents of the train car: urine, ass, smell o' bum, child vomit, feet and pine. At some point during our train ride there was a lull in our usually enthusiastic conversation so I felt the need to spruce things up just a tad. Never being one to shy away from a challenge I proceeded to mount the overhead handrails and start hanging upside down. I then mixed in a little exotic pole dancing in the middle of the train as some curious passengers began to nod their heads approvingly. This only encouraged me more. It was kind of hard to work it with no music so I had to start beat-boxing. Then I began working it harder than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest and was gyrating and pulsating my way into the hearts and minds of our fellow train riders. One passenger in particular took an unexplainable liking to me and started to offer me money but I think it was about that time our ride was coming to an end. The whole time my good friends were cheering me on...my wife--no stranger to my spontaneous antics--just looked on and smiled. It was a glorious day and the best train ride of our lives. As we started getting off the train I looked around at my fellow passengers and soaked in their adoration. I wondered how many of them were there on vacation or something and have never been to NY and would now go home and tell everyone about some skinny white kid who skinned the cat on the NY subway system.

Anyway there it is....if I left something out feel free to let me know.

Hey what's with women? Why is it sooooo bad that I refuse to buy tampons or pads when I go to the store by myself?!?! When I refuse my wife says, "Vinny, you're like a little kid sometimes!!!" Well no shit! I tell her, "Listen, the day you go to the adult book store and buy me a blowup doll and portable pocket vagina I will go and buy you your nasty feminine products". If we go shopping together (which we usually do) I won't even take those nasty things out of the shopping cart and put them on the conveyor belt. Just gives me the chills thinking about it. By the way, why is it called an adult bookstore and there's no fucking books anywhere?!?!?

Okay well, you're all paying my salary for me (thank you) so maybe I should go and get some work done right?!?! Hope you like my story. TOODLES!!!