Month: June 2003

Everywhere on the interstate, there are drunk and high drivers trying to kill your family members.

And their winning.

Or at least we're trying.

As much as i love pot, i definetely need to refrain from getting high before social events.

Last night a huge group of us went downtown for drinks. I was standing at the first club, beer in hand, next to the dance floor watching the beauty which god has created.

There were these 2 really really hot girls, taller then all the others, dancing against each other. These girls were so good looking and tall that 2 other members of my group commented on them, i agreeing with them every time.

I have a really bad habit of staring. Staring may not be the correct word. Lusting, yeah, lusting is a lot better. Anyway, i had been “staring” at the one tall girl with short brown hair with red stripes for about 20 minutes when i lose sight of her.

About 10 minutes later i feel someone tap my shoulder. I turn around expecting Wes or Sek or anyone except the the tall cute girl. She asks the one question which always strikes fear in my heart, “hey do you remember me?!” My brain, paralyzed in confusion, returns a “ummm” and she starts to laugh. I laugh nervously, trying desperately to remember any girl that looked anything like her.

She tells me her name and that she’s wearing a whig. It all makes sense, sorta. I don’t even ask about the whig, tell her I totally didn’t recognize her at all, and nervously try to keep a tiny bit of small talk. She walks off, everyone in the group gives me a “Why was the really hot girl we were all talking about just talking to you?”

Another moment of last night which is worthy of documenting, based on it’s lolness. We’re stumbling back to the car from the last bar to the parking garage. We get to our floor, stumbling up the steps with a bunch of stumbling black women who are laughing almost as loud as me.

The best way to describe it is like walking into a rap video shoot. Theres a huge stream of cars throughout the parking garage, representing almost every stereotype of memphis you can thnk of. I start laughing when I smell all the pot in the air, combined with the bass from everyone’s speakers.

I scramble for my NWA cd, it takes god knows how long to get out of the parking lot and i honestly don’t remember the drive so i can’t really comment on it.

FYI, crackhore sticker placed at 152 and Hardrock. Operation Saturation underway.

Had to jump several fences, climb under a few but we made it. Sitting on the 50 yard line of probably one of the most famous stadiums in the South. Andy George, my partner in crime both cracked a beer in the center of the field on the 50 yard line and started calling people on our respective cell phones, asking if they could guess where we were. Most responded with “i'll see you when i get out of jail”.

Anyway, we stumble around the locker rooms, take a few more pics and jump the several fences to get back out. We had a narrow escape when a police car shown a light at us but all and all it was a jail free night.

We went back to the Glass Onion to find Sly, the bartender that said there was no way we were going to find it. I show him a handfull of grass that i put in my pocket as proof and ordered my drink.

Just think, everything you've ate today has probably been bad for you. If you ate fast food, you're killing yourself. If you made something that you heated up in a microwave, you're killing yourself.

Why can we put a man on the moon, or at least fake it really well, yet we still can't make healthy food that tastes good.

i don’t post a lot of eternal links on crackhore anymore but this is definetely notable.

http://www.people.fas.harvard.edu/~pyang/flash/miniputt.swf

Last night, Alex and Wes were both sitting in my living room, both on their respective laptops, both playing Mini Putt. I had 4 aim windows up on my other monitor, all 4 aim windows were playing Mini Putt. Im not going to even go into how weird it is that almost all of us were fucked up too.

Anyway, as many things go, it gets competetive and people start taking screenshots of their final scores, talking shit, etc.

my 40 is the lowest score i’ve seen.

cracktoad@crackhore.com mail me if u can get anything lower.

loser.

A lot of people slowly remember things the next morning as they tell someone “what they did last night”. That just happened and i thought i better put it down in the site while im thinking about it. Andy, Alex, Wes and I just chilled around the apartment drinking when Andy decided he had to go out for just a little bit. Andy and I, both wearing the latest in crackhore.com fashion,

If you were at the Glass Onion last night, you saw the loud table in the corner. We drank, drank and drank and on the way out of the bar i decided i have to visit the lil toad’s room. Now the Glass Onion has a really intresting men’s room. Instead of having stalls like normal bathrooms, they just have a normal toilet about a foot from a normal urinal and a mirror. I walk in and some guy on a cell phone follows me, walks in and stands right next to the toilet. Theres already 1 guy peeing in the urninal, leaving me the normal toilet with some dude on a cellphone standing maybe a foot away.

This bothers me.

I put one foot on the rim of the bowl, other foot on top of toilet, one hand goes into back pocket to pull out a crackhore.com sticker, other against the wall to brace myself as i climb up on top of the rail. The sticker goes on smoothly, i jump down and land ala Matrix 2 style, and walk out.

We drop Andy off, after he buys more beer, since all the bourbon and beer we drank earlier wasn’t enough, haha. It gets fuzzy after that, i think i came home and went to sleep….

Okay, flashback to Memorial Day 2003. It's a sunny day, people everywhere are bbqing, drinking beer and relaxing on their day off. Sek is having a little bbq at his house. Toad is chilling by the pool with his laptop writing a proposal, everyone is drinking, eating and having a great time.

We run out of beer, Sek and Brandon leave to get some more. Brandon is as sober as a priest. Sek, however, is extremly drunk, having consumed his weight in beer that afternoon.

I'm telling the rest of the story from what they told me. I remember details so i'll try to explain it as good as possible.

Brandon drives since he's sober and Sek walks into the Exxon. Sek gets his beer, takes it to the counter and the clerk refuses to sell it to him since Brandon parked taking up 2 spots. Now Sek has had several little, umm, how to put it, conflicts, with this black Exxon employee so this must have been brewing.

Sek pushes the beer across the counter and screams YOU FUCKING NIGGER and a huge racially charged fight occurs as Sek walks back to a very confused Brandon waiting in the car. They go to another Exxon, buy beer and return back to his house and tell us this.

I'm not done. This is just character development.

The next Tuesday, Sek decides to stop for gas on his way home from work. 5 o'clock traffic is in mad effect, cars at every pump. Sek pulls up, starts pumping gas, and using his existing knowledge of the exxon lady's hatred for cell phone usage while on the pumps. Just as planned she storms out into the parking lot and the race war begins again. Keep in mind there are mothers pumping gas into minivans, people just on their way home from work stopping for a soda, witnesses of the class war at it's best.

Sek decides to try a different tactic. Sek emails the district manager of Memphis Exxons.

Exxon.com probably has a email for everything. He writes the following letter.

Subject: Complaint

Regarding the Exxon location at:
********************
*****, ** *****

I have been a long time Exxon/Speedpass customer. I am in this location approximately 4 to 5 times a week, being that it is so close to my residence. Recently I have noticed an employee that has earned herself a reputation for being rude and unpleasant to patrons. I do not know her name because she never has her name badge on, but she is a relatively short black woman with a very large tattoo on the right side of her neck.

I have several friends that also go to the same Exxon and recently we have been joking about having to deal with this particular employee every time we go the Tigermart. I then realized at this point, that the rudeness I was seeing was not just my experience but with everyone I know that frequents this Exxon. As a business owner, I know that I would like to know if I had an employee like this, so that I could correct the problem. So take this advise with a grain of salt, but this employee needs “help” with the realization that she needs to find a new line of work.

I sincerely feel that this employee could damage this Exxon's reputation, as residents of the Cordova area will expect more than minimal service as opposed to an inner-city location where this would be tolerated.

Thanks!

The best part about that email is when Sek wrote it, it appeared under his wife's name. You can scroll up and re-read it imagining a angry white woman writing it. Anyway, Sek gets a email back from a lady saying she was the new management in the area and was wondering who she was going to have to keep and get rid of. She thanked Sek for his input.

I havn't been back to the Exxon yet. I dunno if the lady still works there. This just goes to show you that if some white dude calls you a nigger, you better not say anything back cuz that cracker may go home and email your boss. Yup, that's definetely the “moral” of this story.

You probably know at least a few thousand people, pretty close.

Now most of them will die peacefully in a hospital bed, cancer of some kind, and die with their loved ones around them and leave this world in a serene matter.

That 500 people are lucky.

Now theres a huge chance that other 500 that they'll die in robbery, gang related violence, or any other terrible fire arm, violent death.

i admit a lot of drinking and driving and im sure all my viewers worry about me almost as much as my own family does. maybe even more 🙂 But i don’t think drinking and driving is any worse then most of the shit doctors prescribe to people anyway

anyway, i was driving down the interstate today about to open my beer for the ride home, when i realize that my only bottle opener is on my keys. I try desperately to open it but give up and decide to drink it at home.

the moral of this story kids…..ugh nevermind

scoutMASTERtoad: some weekend imma flip out and eat a bunch of meth and stay up for 3 days setting shit up like that, sleep for a day then wake up and bask in the glory of my web empire i created all cracked out on speed and blaring aphix twin
MahBizNizzle: and then it all began
scoutMASTERtoad: haha
MahBizNizzle: the second renaissance
scoutMASTERtoad: lol
MahBizNizzle: Toad
scoutMASTERtoad: god
scoutMASTERtoad: a name no one will forget
MahBizNizzle: a name that will never be forgotten
scoutMASTERtoad: rofl
scoutMASTERtoad: hahahahahaha
MahBizNizzle: hahaha