40 Ounce Dreams and Katz’s Delicatessen Wishes!
(Awesome home – uncredited)
This is Bald Punk reporting live from the Italian Rivera here in sunny Belmar, N-J! We all got our shirts off and are chillin’ poolside. “Yo! How U doin’!!!”
This place is totally whacked!
I’m here with my lady friend(LF) and the pizza and Chinese delivery guys(aka num and nuts). Right now we’re at the pizza guy’s brother’s house whose name is Roland. The place has like a bed in every room and smells so clean you could eat anywhere.
Unfortunately, I was so focused on going to the beach that I forgot my camera. I came here wearing just my swim trunks. That’s how you do the beach, right!
I was going to wear my leather jacket but after like five minutes waiting for my LF to get ready, I was soaked in sweat. Instead I put on one of those great t-shirts with whacked out writing on them. If I showed it to you-you would see the same thing when you look at the pizza and Chinese delivery guys’ faces. Your eyes go bonkers and fall out like those glasses with eyeballs on springs.
I told you I didn’t have the address to Roland’s estate, and we were gonna search for his car in order to find the house. But on the train ride down I borrowed the pizza guy’s phone and texted Roland. You know what, he returned the text lickety-split with the address. Not only that but he picked us up at the train station in his hot, candy-apple-red Mustang. And it was miles and millions of turns to his house. The place would have been tough to find.
The only problem we had all weekend was with Roland’s gold-digga of girlfriend. You had to see her face when we got to the house, and she opened the door and saw the four of us. It looked like a lump of puke trickle up her throat.
The skinny bitch didn’t look at or say a word to my LF. Now I don’t care how you treat me, cause I won’t notice good or bad, and you can abuse the crap out of num and nuts. Just kidding!!! You people are so touchy–
But you better show my LF respect. She’s the nicest, most considerate person you will ever meet.
Though when I first got there my eyes were all batty like I won lotto, and I forgot about that butta-faced chick. I have to admit I was only concentrating on having fun. I saw they had a humongous pool, tons of rooms, loads of food, and an open bar.
Then late Saturday night when we’re all chillin’ poolside, Roland’s digga-gf starts flipping out. I won’t say the bitch had a coke fit! Whoops!
It seemed someone “stole” her cheap ass necklace, and she pointed right at my LF, who I swear to God, is the nicest person on the face of the Earth. I’d get my teeth knocked out for her honor, and I’d even give up my new found life on the Italian Rivera. And here’s this chick saying my lady was scoping out the necklace, hence, she must have taken it.
So I yelled at her and called her a gold-digger. Now there was one word that came out of my mouth that I’m not going to even give you a hint as to what it was, because you will all hate me. It was a nasty word, worse than “bitch.”
It made her cry like Lucy! You remember Ricky and I Love Lucy on TV, and how she used to cry: Waaaaaaaahhh! Waaaaaaaahhh! And this chick kept pointing at my lady, who had tried to be nice and complimented the girl’s cheapo necklace when we first got there.
Then Roland comes out of the house and pulls the stupid necklace from his pocket. The bitch ran out of the yard and was never seen again.
Though right after she left, for about three seconds I looked around like an owl. No one told me to leave so I kept on swimming and eating and drinking.
We had a real nice weekend. (:-()
Until next time this is Bald Punk in the Italian Rivera hoping you have 40 Ounce Dreams and Katz’s Delicatessen Wishes!!!
Here are all the posts in this series: Eighth Episode – May/June 2009 (Bald Punk Goes to New Jersey)