Y�see, about a week before Christmas, one of the DJs from a local radio station decided to open a bar across the street from my home. Well, he�s not actually a DJ. I don�t remember exactly what his job is at the station. Most likely it�s to sit around and annoy the crap out of people, since that seems to be his only talent. He�s on most weekdays during the afternoon drive time with another guy who pretends to be a DJ. He calls himself Lizard. I call him gene pool skimming.
I have several problems with this place being here, and while most of them are directed at Mr. Skimming himself, the first one isn�t. The first one is directed at the town itself, for ever allowing a bar to be opened in a residential neighborhood in the first place. What kind of retarded dungheap allows this sort of travesty to take place? Why would the zoning board allow this? Is there a zoning board? Is there zoning? All good questions, and none of which I have the answers to.
So with the possible blessing of the maybe existing zoning board of Waterloo, NY, Mr. Skimming opened his little bar in the nice, quiet residential neighborhood I live in. The first week there weren�t really any problems, because nobody really knew about the place. Then of course, he started talking about it on the radio, and did a little advertising, and people started showing up.
The real problems started after New Years Eve. His big bash on that day wasn�t much, and I�ll admit that I laughed at it, because I WANT him to fail. No, not just fail, but fail spectacularly, and owing a great deal of money to his creditors.
Now, let me take a moment to interject one small thing. I knew this cockstain before he opened the place. The store I run used to give him all kinds of free shit to help him with his little games he played when his radio station did gigs at bars. He got free dildos and vibrators and lube and condoms and all sorts of other stuff. He was supposed to be advertising for us while he did this, but that never really happened, and the regular advertising on the radio station was something we were already paying for.
So when he found out I lived across the street from the building he bought, he tried to pay me off with some drinks. He seemed to think it would be okay if my nice, quiet life was turned upside down if I got some beers out of it. I told him I don�t drink. After that, he didn�t really have all that much to say to me.
So now we go back to that week after New Years, when everything started to go down hill. First, I come home from work on a Friday evening and I cannot park at my apartment. This is because drunks have lined up both sides of the street with their vehicles, since there is only enough parking space at the bar for about eight fucking cars. What kind of simple-minded crotch-monkey would buy a building with limited parking to open a business that depends on MANY customers being there? Someone who couldn�t outwit a rotten mango, that�s who.
After a few weeks of this, I get pissed enough to call the cops, and find out that it�s all public parking, and I don�t have any right to it. That�s great. I pay rent there every month, but some drunken cretin gets to park there because some assbag from a radio station opens a bar. The only good thing about it is I also find out that HIS supposed parking lot is ALSO town property, and anyone can park there. I�m thinking of throwing a party, inviting as many people as I can, time it to start just prior to the bar opening on a Friday, and telling everyone to park over there. Can you imagine the look on Mr. Skimmings� face over that? I can, and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Of course, that�s only the beginning of our little tale, and only one of the problems that are being caused by Mr. Skimming. There�s also the garbage that tends to pile up on MY lawn from these human-shaped sacks of substandard DNA that frequent his shithole establishment. In the almost year and a half I was living here before that place opened, I NEVER had to pick beer bottles up from my lawn. Nor did I have to clean up the multitude of cigarette butts that are left when one of these abominable cretins empties their ashtray all over the yard. Now it seems to happen with distressing regularity.
Of course, when I went to the message boards on a site dedicated to the local counties, there was already a thread that dealt with the place. Now, the owner of said establishment did not visit these message boards, but then, I have serious doubts about his ability to read and write, so that would explain that. One of his bartenders however, was a regular. He�s a complete and total idiot, but he was there. And he was already spreading lies about the place, so I of course registered immediately to set the record straight.
The first thing they had been discussing was a fight that had recently occurred at the bar. The bartender, let�s call him useless, lying sack of crap, or ULSOC, was trying to convince everyone that the fight was no big deal, and that NOBODY knew what had happened but him. Naturally I had to point out how that was incorrect, since the problem occurred practically in my front yard. I was witness to the altercation, so he was NOT, in fact, the only one that knew what happened.
I said I had seen the brawl, and it was a much bigger deal than ULSOC was making it out to be. There was one guy who was being tackled by FOUR police officers, whom he was busy trying to fight back with � IN THE DRIVEWAY OF THE BUILDING I LIVE IN! I think that right there should illustrate that I DO, in fact, know what happened. Then another guy came from the bar and tried to attack one of the cops from behind, resulting in three MORE officers coming after him with their nightsticks. So we now have SEVEN cops fighting with two drunks at nine o�clock at night in a residential neighborhood. People are gathering around outside to watch, including children, and this nimrod says it�s no big deal. He tries to justify it by declaring that all bars have fights once in a while. Well, if this is a known fact, and I�m not disputing it, THEN WHO IN THEIR RIGHT FUCKING MIND WOULD ALLOW A BAR TO BE OPENED IN A RESIDENTIAL NEIGHBORHOOD?!? Only some kind of serious dunderhead would see this as a good idea. Now I know the bar�s owner, Mr. Skimming, is an imbecile, as is his bartender, but did the town have to be so fucking stupid as well?
He then tried to say that it wasn�t a fight, but a domestic dispute that got out of hand. Um, see, here�s the thing. I don�t give a dead monkey�s balls what started it. The fact that it happened is enough for me, and it�s enough to see that it�s a fucking problem. A BIG fucking problem, and anyone with an IQ higher than that of a Stretch Armstrong doll should be able to see that.
So anyway, I corrected ULSOC�s story, and addressed a few other concerns I had about the place, to which ULSOC immediately accused me of lying. His exact words were, �PM me who you are,as I know you are lying.� PM means �Private Message,� and the punctuation error was his, and I left it in there on purpose. It helps illustrate his intellect. Adding to the illustration is the fact that I had already said EXACTLY how I knew what happened, TWICE, before he even said that. Apparently that wasn�t enough. Either that or he simply cannot admit he was wrong.
Of course, the problems with this retarded assbag didn�t stop there. He then had to accuse me of lying about every single problem the shithole was causing in the neighborhood. He insisted over and over again that they did not let people out of the bar with bottles, right up until the time that I described the people on the porch to him. Then of course, he changed his story to say it was okay for them to have bottles on the porch. I then asked who was monitoring these �people� on the porch, making sure they weren�t tossing bottles all over the place. They aren�t really people, after all, but habitual drunks, a subspecies of human. He of course had no answer for that, but I guess I didn�t really expect one. He is, after all, not quite as intelligent as a rock.
Speaking of which, since I link to this site from those forums, there are a few other people that need to be addressed, and I am going to do it by name, since I don�t have to censor myself here, and I can be as mean as I want to be. And right now I feel like being mean.
ULSOC�s screen name is Cal8hof, and he is an unmitigated ass. Not only that, but he wouldn�t know the truth if it was fucking him in the ass � something I am quite certain he is used to. Hey � all those free dildos Lizard got from my store had to be put to use somewhere, right? Then there is Sparkey, who has not added one single intelligent comment to the discussion at all. In fact, I�m quite certain she has never added an intelligent comment to any discussion at any time in her life. She has the intelligence of a drowned rat, but not as much personality. Then there�s Simply Brunette, who thinks she�s clever, but is in reality simply an idiot. Just another bimbo who hasn�t got the slightest fucking clue what�s going on, but has to say something anyway, even if it�s sheer idiocy. And threesons, who�s every bit as intelligent as a soiled diaper, but not quite as pleasant. And Doc.Holiday with his extremely tenuous grasp of the English language. If anyone could ever figure out just what this idiot is saying, I�m sure we would regret subjecting ourselves to the level of stupidity he brings to the conversation. BEerwoman, who has done nothing but egg people on, and add a few comments whose level of idiocy should be criminal. Godfather, who came in and said one or two incredibly idiotic things and then disappeared before anyone figured out just how incredibly stupid he is. And Mousie, who REALLY never adds anything to a conversation. I�m pretty sure her parents don�t know what she�s doing on the computer.
Now, several of these people have formed there own little group, and then tend to post together and say the same things, which is usually nothing at all. Eleven times out of ten they have no clue what they are talking about, so they resort to insults and retorts that are about as sharp as water. By the way, the preceding paragraph was simply for entertainment, and maybe a little therapy for myself. Also, I�m hoping some of the halfwits mentioned will find their way here through the links I have left on the message boards. And if/when they have, here�s my message to you: YOU are the reason our society will fail. All you do is suck up oxygen that can be better used for people who actually matter. You contribute NOTHING because you ARE nothing. All you do is pollute the gene pool. The best thing you could do for the world, indeed the ONLY good thing you could do for the world, is off yourself immediately.
Back to the problem at hand, namely Lizard�s Tailgaters Lounge. Yeah, I know it�s a stupid name as well. I TOLD you the guy was an imbecile. There�s also a problem with the noise coming from the place. Frequently on a Friday or Saturday night, after I have managed to finagle myself a parking spot at my own home, I will have to endure hours of substandard, well; music is what they call it I guess, because he turns this shit up so loud that at times it overpowers my TV. This is in the winter, when all the doors and windows are closed. What the hell is it going to be like in the fucking summer? I may just have to borrow a rocket launcher from someone.
And the �music� is always exactly the same; that retarded dance crap that has no real music in it at all, just a shitload of thumping bass. But then, the people who listen to it wouldn�t know what good music was if it came up and bitch-slapped them with a goddamn two by four.
And all the noise isn�t coming from the �music� either. A good deal of it is from the mentally defective ass pirates lounging around on the front porch, smoking and making as much noise as possible. Not a one of them seems to give a shit that families live in this neighborhood, although I can guarantee it would be a different story if I was to follow any of them home and make the kind of noise around their home that they do around mine. I know that wouldn�t make them shut the fuck up when visiting Mr. Skimmings� shithole, since I am willing to wager all of their lives that they cannot grasp the concept of �cause and effect.� But it would probably make me feel a little better. Not as good as I would feel to read about them wrapping their vehicle around a goddamn utility pole on the way home, but good enough for now.
Of course, last weekend was St. Patrick�s Day, yet another fake holiday that dim crotch stains use an excuse to get drunk. The noise got so fucking ridiculous that I once again had to call the cops. And once again for all the fucking good it did. Instead of sending real officers, they sent out Roscoe P. Coltrane and Barney Fife. I swear to God watching these two insensate chowderheads was like watching the motherfucking Keystone Cops, wandering around in a figure eight in the middle of the street bumping into each other. Roscoe goes into the bar for about two minutes, long enough to collect his payoff I�m guessing. He comes back out, does another few bumbling figure eights with Barney, much to the amusement of the simpletons on the porch, and the two of them drive off, leaving the music even louder than it was before. Brilliant police work guys. Way to fucking protect and serve. Ass-bandits.
Going back to the parking issue, there�s another thing I have to take the local constabulary to task on. Why is it that these drunken cock sockets can have their vehicles parked all over the place illegally, but ONE of my tires is hinting at touching the sidewalk one night, and I get a ticket? It�s not even really TOUCHING the sidewalk, but rather looking at it meaningfully, and I get a fucking ticket. But some semen-monger with an SUV bigger than the USS Nimitz can park so the only way to get down the road is in a fucking helicopter, and the boys in blue don�t say word one. They just drive by and look, and say, �Hey � it�s the USS Nimitz, and it�s blocking the street. Oh well, I gotta go take Flash for a walk and then see if those Duke boys are up to no good again,� and off they drive. It�s the best justice money can buy. It�s okay if you park illegally if you intend to get drunk and then drive home, but don�t try that when you�re sober and you live there! No wonder nobody respects cops anymore; they�re all either corrupt or just fucking stupid.
There�s also the issue of me and my friends having to deal with remarks and such from the pieces of shit who gather on the porch and shout crap to me when I come home from work. I am sick and tired of these assholes mouthing off at me because I want to come home from work. I don�t care about their entertainment. I don�t care if they wanna get drunk and harass people. I think it should be legal to kill them. And one in particular, some fat retarded choad stain who repeats the same thing to me every time he�s there doesn�t have the slightest clue that the only thing keeping him alive is my desire not to go to prison. Hey cock breath, if you don�t have anything new to say, just shut the fuck up. Nobody cares anymore. Yes, we all know you�re the fat guy in the orange shirt. I�m certain your mother is proud of you. Now why don�t you just go back inside? Don�t you have a cock to suck? I think I can here Mr. Skimming calling you.
And to top all this off, Mr. Skimming has some single-digit IQ cretin named Joe who lives down the street working for him. Now, Mr. Skimming doesn�t show up until well after 11 in the morning, but this unevolved chimp gets there a little after ten each morning so he can stand in the doorway, staring out the window like a retarded mannequin. He has absolutely no range to the emotion his face can express, and I sometimes wonder if he is a live person, or some kind of clever automaton. But then I realize that clever and this halfwit could NEVER exist in the same sentence. I actually watched this dungheap in human form kicking garbage from the bar�s �parking lot� one morning across the street under my car. Who does that? What kind of intellect does it take for a person to consciously make the decision to do something like that? Of course, I couldn�t let that kind of thing slide, so I waited until he was staring out the window again, drooling on his shoes, and then I picked up all the cigarette butts some other blemish on humanity had dumped in my lawn the night before, and went over and dumped them all on his car. Yeah, that�s right fuckstain; I won�t apologize for that, so why don�t you go fuck yourself. Or better yet, just kill yourself, because you certainly aren�t contributing to society at all. Yeah, this guy is an embarrassment to everyone else named Joe.
That�s not really the end of all the problems with this shithole, or its pinhead owner, but I think you get the idea. And this thing is already long enough that some people will start to complain. I think it�s fairly obvious that I wish nothing but ill on the trouser stain who opened the place, and the same or even worse on the shitstains who frequent it. In fact, nothing would make me happier than a rash of DWI�related deaths coming from the place. And no, I don�t think that�s harsh at all. In fact, I think I�m being a bit lenient, but I am after all, a nice fucking guy.