Monday, October 08, 2007
A recent email from JJ Dufresne
i'm growing out a mustache for halloween. i dont know what i'm going as though. maybe a pedophile. any ideas what i can do with a mustache? actually i'm growing it all out but will shave into whatever i can salvage from the thin scattering that is my beard. maybe i'll go as a cancer vicitm, cancer of the face.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
JJ and his friend Pete got all wasted out at the bar. Pete ended up crashing on JJ's couch. The next morning they peel themselves out of the apartment and go to breakfast. At breakfast they chug down some coffee and eggs. During the meal Pete excuses himself and goes and takes a big dump at the cafe. While he's gone JJ gets a text message saying that there is pot available if they want it.
They do.
They make arrangements to go over to the dealers place because the liaison who informed them of the stuff was out of town. JJ has met the dealer on a couple of occasions. She's a fun cute hippie chick. On the drive over JJ complains to Pete that he has to shit something fierce, so bad in fact that he is getting a cramp in his colon and it hurts really bad. Pete responds that he has to shit again. They both have to shit really bad, yet they have to do some business across town before they can pay any attention to our intestinal needs.
They pull up to the place and go in. The dealer says hi and they say hi and then Pete asks where her bathroom is. She tells him. While he's gone everything gets portioned out and the deal goes down. Pete is gone for quite a while. Ihe dealer and Pete make small talk. Then ben emerges and they leave.
Fast forward to this past weekend. JJ gets a text from the liaison and he says that the dealer says that Pete broke her toilet when he shat at her place. The liaison says dealer is quite upset.
So JJ's question is do you think this will hurt his prospects of getting another sack from this chick? He isn't the one who shat in and broke her toilet, Pete is. Of course JJ is the guy who brought the guy over who shat in and broke her toilet but why should he pay for that? He did none of the shitting and none of the toilet breaking.
They do.
They make arrangements to go over to the dealers place because the liaison who informed them of the stuff was out of town. JJ has met the dealer on a couple of occasions. She's a fun cute hippie chick. On the drive over JJ complains to Pete that he has to shit something fierce, so bad in fact that he is getting a cramp in his colon and it hurts really bad. Pete responds that he has to shit again. They both have to shit really bad, yet they have to do some business across town before they can pay any attention to our intestinal needs.
They pull up to the place and go in. The dealer says hi and they say hi and then Pete asks where her bathroom is. She tells him. While he's gone everything gets portioned out and the deal goes down. Pete is gone for quite a while. Ihe dealer and Pete make small talk. Then ben emerges and they leave.
Fast forward to this past weekend. JJ gets a text from the liaison and he says that the dealer says that Pete broke her toilet when he shat at her place. The liaison says dealer is quite upset.
So JJ's question is do you think this will hurt his prospects of getting another sack from this chick? He isn't the one who shat in and broke her toilet, Pete is. Of course JJ is the guy who brought the guy over who shat in and broke her toilet but why should he pay for that? He did none of the shitting and none of the toilet breaking.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Yesterday JJ went on this run (a chick has agreed to have a few beers with him so he decided to tighten up his flab as much as possible before the date.) So he goes on this run, he's choosing new routes, this one is a little more hilly and therefore he's probably burning up more fat, hooray.
It was stormy here yesterday and the wind was blowing all hard and there were branches all over his route. He had gotten high before he left his apartment (it helps you forget that you are running and it doesnt seem so hard of a task.) He made a game of timing his steps to land on the branches and twigs scattered all over just to get that satisfaction of hearing and feeling that "snap" under his foot. He got to the this park at the end of his route and decided to go walk through, sit down and rest before turning around and running back. As he was climbing a hill at this park he noticed there were even more branches down here on account of the more trees and he realized that this is a kid's dream stick-gun shop. There were branches everywhere and it couldnt take a kid long to find those sticks that have the perfect break and look like guns.
When JJ was a kid he'd pack up a giant artillery. Of course he had a couple plastic toy guns but a lot of the arsenal was made up of stick guns. He remembered putting two in each sock, a couple in a tattered old back pack, two stuck in his waist and then carrying a branch just as tall as he was that he could barely even lift. He was fucking ready for WWIII. The town where he lived was redoing their power lines so JJ and his friends had these deep, long trenches to fight each other in.
The simple rules of war back then were as follows:
1. You have to be honest if you got shot, if someone claims they got you, they most likely are correct and you have to fall down and count to 25 before you could become a new guy and get up to help fight the warfront.
It was a magical time. if you weren't playing guns and saving the day with your buddies you were playing guns by yourself, you were the commando sent in to save the president's daughter who you just knew was going to fall in love with you.
Back at the park, JJ decided he was going to find the coolest stick-gun and bring it back home. But once he started looking, he noticed that none of the branches and sticks had the look or shape of a gun. Sure, there were a few that he could have redesigned and formed a stick-gun, but he wanted the ones offered straight up by nature. And he couldnt find one. His past experience told him that it should have only taken a few minutes to find a stick-gun. But there really werent any around.
JJ promised himself he wouldn't go home without a stick-gun.
He searched that fucking park for a good twenty minutes and found nothing. No pistols, no rifles, no big cannons. Nothing.
Then he walked down the other side of the hill and saw this little garden fountain area near the park with a few more trees. He decided to search there. Nothing. It was really pissing him off. And that's when he saw the fucking sign for the park.
"Lyndale Park Peace Garden"
Fucking hippies. JJ blames this all on them. Their anti-gun lobby has wormed its way into mother nature via the vast left wing conspiracy of global warming. JJ's inability to find a stick-gun is all because of hippies and their global warmings.
This really pissed him off so he just turned around in front of the peace garden sign and ran back home. He still had his vow to pick up any stick-gun he saw. But there was nothing, and as he brooded over how much he hates hippies, he was distracted by a couple of kids playing out in their front yard. A ten year old girl, an eight year old girl and a three year old boy just chasing each other around their small front yard. Their dad was sitting on the steps watching them.
And that's when he saw it.
On the yard a few feet away from the dad is a perfectly shaped stick gun. JJ broke his vow, he didn't run over to the stick, snatch it up, and take it home. He just kept going.
It was stormy here yesterday and the wind was blowing all hard and there were branches all over his route. He had gotten high before he left his apartment (it helps you forget that you are running and it doesnt seem so hard of a task.) He made a game of timing his steps to land on the branches and twigs scattered all over just to get that satisfaction of hearing and feeling that "snap" under his foot. He got to the this park at the end of his route and decided to go walk through, sit down and rest before turning around and running back. As he was climbing a hill at this park he noticed there were even more branches down here on account of the more trees and he realized that this is a kid's dream stick-gun shop. There were branches everywhere and it couldnt take a kid long to find those sticks that have the perfect break and look like guns.
When JJ was a kid he'd pack up a giant artillery. Of course he had a couple plastic toy guns but a lot of the arsenal was made up of stick guns. He remembered putting two in each sock, a couple in a tattered old back pack, two stuck in his waist and then carrying a branch just as tall as he was that he could barely even lift. He was fucking ready for WWIII. The town where he lived was redoing their power lines so JJ and his friends had these deep, long trenches to fight each other in.
The simple rules of war back then were as follows:
1. You have to be honest if you got shot, if someone claims they got you, they most likely are correct and you have to fall down and count to 25 before you could become a new guy and get up to help fight the warfront.
It was a magical time. if you weren't playing guns and saving the day with your buddies you were playing guns by yourself, you were the commando sent in to save the president's daughter who you just knew was going to fall in love with you.
Back at the park, JJ decided he was going to find the coolest stick-gun and bring it back home. But once he started looking, he noticed that none of the branches and sticks had the look or shape of a gun. Sure, there were a few that he could have redesigned and formed a stick-gun, but he wanted the ones offered straight up by nature. And he couldnt find one. His past experience told him that it should have only taken a few minutes to find a stick-gun. But there really werent any around.
JJ promised himself he wouldn't go home without a stick-gun.
He searched that fucking park for a good twenty minutes and found nothing. No pistols, no rifles, no big cannons. Nothing.
Then he walked down the other side of the hill and saw this little garden fountain area near the park with a few more trees. He decided to search there. Nothing. It was really pissing him off. And that's when he saw the fucking sign for the park.
"Lyndale Park Peace Garden"
Fucking hippies. JJ blames this all on them. Their anti-gun lobby has wormed its way into mother nature via the vast left wing conspiracy of global warming. JJ's inability to find a stick-gun is all because of hippies and their global warmings.
This really pissed him off so he just turned around in front of the peace garden sign and ran back home. He still had his vow to pick up any stick-gun he saw. But there was nothing, and as he brooded over how much he hates hippies, he was distracted by a couple of kids playing out in their front yard. A ten year old girl, an eight year old girl and a three year old boy just chasing each other around their small front yard. Their dad was sitting on the steps watching them.
And that's when he saw it.
On the yard a few feet away from the dad is a perfectly shaped stick gun. JJ broke his vow, he didn't run over to the stick, snatch it up, and take it home. He just kept going.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
JJ RETURNS!!!
He had this to say:
I just went and took a piss. As i opened the men’s room door an odor overcame me. However it wasn’t a typical shit smell. When i opened that door it smelled like a Burger King burger. I’m telling you the smell was identical. The worst part is, i am hungry as all hell and my stomach actually growled when i was pissing. Now this could be due to the fact that some schmuck was in there minutes before i was with a bag of take out burger king. However, what if that isnt the case? What if that smell came from someone’s butt? What if i went in there and actually enjoyed the smell of someone else’s shit?
I just went and took a piss. As i opened the men’s room door an odor overcame me. However it wasn’t a typical shit smell. When i opened that door it smelled like a Burger King burger. I’m telling you the smell was identical. The worst part is, i am hungry as all hell and my stomach actually growled when i was pissing. Now this could be due to the fact that some schmuck was in there minutes before i was with a bag of take out burger king. However, what if that isnt the case? What if that smell came from someone’s butt? What if i went in there and actually enjoyed the smell of someone else’s shit?
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
This Just In From JJ Dufresne
i went into work at 8:30 am yesterday and left at 5:30 AM this morning. Now i came back at 11:00 am. 13 hours of overtime and about 4 hours of sleep. On the way back to work today my grandparents were floating outside the car eating ice cream and flipping me off. It's said that the beatles wrote "Lucy in the sky with diamonds" after an lsd hallucination. My song after sleep depreivation would be, "Maybelle in the sky with chocolate chip and a middle finger."
Thursday, April 12, 2007
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