Twenty Five years for three innings. Sounds like my sex life.

The World Series featuring the Philadelphia Phillies and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays could end tonight during game 5 part B. Part A was held on Sunday at Citizens Ballpark in Philadelphia in what could be compared to a mini hurricane. The baseball gods decided that despite the weather, the game would carry on, and it did right up until the middle of the fifth inning.
With the game tied up a rain delay was called and shortly thereafter it was postponed until the next day, or maybe even the day after that. So everyone went home and held their breath and soaked asses, awaiting the weather report. I sat at home, where I seem to spend all of my time anymore, wondering how it will play out.
If you read my previous post you would know that on Saturday night the cable went out for a time during the game. So several thousand people and myself all initially figured they didn't pay there bill again but we soon realized that it was Comcast cable who was to blame. The next night it was the weathers fault that the Phillies had to wait to clinch their first championship in twenty eight years.

Now there are thousands of people who can't go to tonights game, thousands who will go and just as many who want to go. Three innings, that is all that is left. People are shelling out hundreds of dollars to see an hour of baseball. Granted it is the World Series but it may come out to $5 a minute to watch baseball, that is more than phone sex or a call to Ms. Cleo.
If they win everyone will cheer and high five and then pour out of the stadium and a sea of red will flood the surrounding area, the area which if you don't drive to is free.

I once bought a $7 bottle of vintage wine that I thought was worth much much more. I saved it at a friends upscale restaurant waiting for the perfect girl to share it with. Well long story short When we opened it we smelled vinegar and therefore I had to order another bottle of wine as to not look like not only a jackass but a cheap one at that. I ended up putting out $400 that night and my date put out too, but not $400 worth. In fact I can't think of any vagina that is worth $400 any more than I could justify $500 for three innings of baseball. I can sit home, watch it on TV and then masturbate, all for the $69.95 I pay for cable. Then I'll go dancing in the streets with all of the "hardcore fans"

phillies in the World Series for the first time in 15 years and the cable goes out!

For those of you who don't know, the Philadelphia Phillies are in the World Series and after tonight have a 1 game lead. The last time they were in the championship was in 1993 and I was twenty three and drunk through the entire playoffs. Now that I am a wiser, more mature and broke fan, I am forced to sit home and watch it like a big loser.

Tonight I prepared my celebratory feast: a taco bell combo # 4 and a gallon of dollar store iced tea. You may ask why I didn't have a Philly cheese steak or a pretzel and frankly, we get tired of eating that stuff so I went cheap.

The game starts out with the Phils up by one, then tied, then up by one again, then I have to take a potty break because combo # 4 became quickly forces one to have to go number 2. So when I return I find my screen frozen with an image of Pat Burrell wiping sweat off his forehead. I waited patiently for him to move, or for one of the 40k fans to make a noise but nothing happened. I thought to myself, Hmmmm comcast cable really can't be screwing up the world series in which the Phillies are playing And comcast calls Philadelphia its home, can they?


Well they can and they did. Comcast cable subscribers missed about three innings of the world series , the same innings where Ryan Howard and Chase Uttley hit home runs. After texting whoever I could to complain I turned to the craigslist rant and rave section. Besides being a bastion of racial slurs, political lunacy and pictures of genitals, cl rant and rave is a great place to complain with other home bound losers in real time and it provided me with an outlet to voice my rage against comcast cable.

I was delighted to find others who were victims of this comcast meltdown. The Verizon fios people were bragging about their clear picture and lower bills while the rest of us were watching a frozen screen and looking at the sex ads, waiting for either the game to come back on or a reply from the transsexual we just emailed. Just when I was about to lose hope that I would see the game or sleep with a ladyboy, the game came back on but the sound took another minute or so.

The Phillies won the game at 2 am and I suppose this will shield Comcast cable from much of the ire of their subscribers. Had the fighting Phils not pulled it out, all blame would have been on comcast and in this city, you don;t want in any way to be associated with a loss. Just ask the losing pitcher of the 1993 world series Mitch "Wild Thing" Williams. He stayed in hiding longer than the guy who the movie Goodfellas was based on.

I am no fan of any utility company but in this case I hope people dump Comcast for Verizon because the cable monopoly is known to screw everyone around here at any given chance and after tonight's debacle, it's time to pay the piper.

See more at Funnebone.com

Awaiting the first visitor.

I slapped together my new website Funnebone.com and quickly added a hit counter.
I started the counter at #913, it's like virginity all over again.

9-13 is my birthday and I figure why not start the counter there and at least look like someone has visited the site. I await the first visitor as if it was my first lover. Starting with a fake number may seem dishonest, but what can it hurt? When I finally lost my virginity I lied then too. She asked me how many women I had been with and quickly answered " fivineteen" . I couldn't say I was a virgin since I just spent the last three hours telling her about how I graduated high school and spent a year at NASA space camp but was kicked out for asthma. Why kill my fresh cool guy image. I don't think it would have mattered what I told her, she was drunk, horny and had just gotten out of her third divorce. It is funny how women drop their guard when they are #120 overweight and balding. She just smiled, looked out the car window and hacked up what sounded to be a beanbag chair and patted me on the knee.

I often think back to that night every march 12th and although I don't remember much after I passed out from inhaling pubic hairballs I do remember the anticipation of losing my virginity. As I sit here looking at my counter, I have similar questions in my head; will I feel different, will people see me different and did I wash my asscrack today. Come on lucky 914!

Finally Funnebone has a website

I can feel liberty like it was the firm grasp of a Korean massage girl. With the launching of Funnebone.com I will no longer be enslaved to the whims of suckass people who want a funny website but lack the humor to produce it themselves. I can not be censored, scolded, chastised nor rebuked. For the low low price of $11.95 I can be me, and everyone else can SUCK My Humor!

Funnebone goes tampon shopping

Funnebone goes tampon shopping

Forbidden Love

It isn't too often that you find random love. Finding "the one" can be a gruelling task and when she turns out to be a forbidden love, it is all the more crushing. I stood before her taking in her beauty while I fumbled for my money. The flashing lights intensified my hypnotic state while the music playing above made it all the more surreal. It felt like forever between our first eye contact and her first words but I didn't mind, I had been waiting a lifetime for this moment. As her lips parted and the first syllable escaped her angelic mouth I braced for what I knew was going to be the first of many conversations. " Hi, what cha need?" she asked me in a sexy, ghetto guttural tone. My eyes were drawn to her jet black hair, dyed I assume, which danced upon her shoulders periodically hiding behind her large gold square earrings. " Can I have a Snickers and a blue gatorade" I sheepishly replied, embarrassed that I had to order by color instead of flavor.

The bulletproof glass that separated us was chipped, much like my heart. I leaned against the glass as she turned to walk towards the soda cooler. Her attire was sexy yet simplistic: stone washed jeans with a cross stitch pattern down each leg that revealed her straining flesh, high top off brand sneakers and a pink seemingly airbrushed shirt with cut off sleeves. This was no gold digger, this was a heart breaker.

She swiftly returned to the window, pretending not to notice that my proximity had decreased and my breath had fogged up the glass she leaned forward once again and through the microphone she souls communicated again. " three sisty fie" was broadcast about the empty lot and the drawer jutted out towards me. As the door of the metal box swung open I felt the rush of air that had danced past her body to escape the confines of the small cashier box. Hoping to breath in any scent of hers that may have traveled through the open air, I smiled and filled my lungs with the scent of diesel fuel and the vanilla air freshener hanging just inside the window. I was disappointed but not deterred.

I thanked her for my purchase and noticed her name was written on a gold pendent hanging from her pale and inviting neck. "Michelle" was stamped on the postcard sized medallion. Wanting to build a comfortable familiarity I leaned towards the microphone and pointed to her neck " Michelle?" I asked in an childish tone. She smiled and turned to the side pointing to a large script tattoo on her arm which read " Shelly". She leaned over yet again, pushed the talk button and informed me " I likes to go by Shelly." "well you have a good night Shelly" I quipped back.

"allight" was her parting words.

I returned to my car and didn't look back to see if she was looking for I knew this was not the last of our encounters.

Cock Blocked again

Last night I was at the bar and I noticed a guy with down syndrome was sitting a few seats down. At first it was hard to determine why he was different because frankly everyone in this bar is a little different. Some have missing teeth, or extra chins and in this case a few extra chromosomes. This was the first time I had seen a down syndrome person in a bar so I was a little intrigued. There is a dwarf who visits frequently so that isn't any fun anymore so this was a breath of fresh air. I caught him looking back at me and wondered if he thought I had a chromosome disorder so I looked away. I got up an walked around, oogled at some women and returned back to my seat. I noticed then that while I was gone he had befriended some very young and attractive women and was now dancing in the middle of them. I felt resentment rip through my body as I realized that not only had he garnered the attention of more women than I had, he was a better dancer. As I sat watching and pounding down shots of black zambuca, jealousy and ignorance overcame me as I muttered out " look how good that retard dances". My pseudo friend next to me heard me and turned to tell me " that isn't nice, they are called special needs persons". ___________________________________________
When was the determination made that deemed the more words you use to describe someone the better off they seem? What was it about retarded that made it seem any more demeaning than special needs? In fact I think retarded is much more specific than special needs because the latter could mean they need insulin, a trained dog, an underwire bra or even blocks on the pedals. At least with retarded you have an idea of how to prepare for the bus trip. ___________________________________________
Now with Sara Palin running for vice president, special needs is going to be used to describe every kid born in the last ten years. Every kid has special needs. Some need to stop eating, some need to get braces while others need to their asses beat every morning before breakfast.______________________________________________________________
As I absorbed my friends comment I realized she was right. This man had special needs, much like I do. I stood up and cast aside my envy and strode right up to the dancing circle and put on my best moves. I wiggled between two girls and danced like the devil. I figured by showing them that I knew how to have fun and that I embraced people for who they are that they would welcome into the group. Everyone was laughing and jumping and asking me my name. Suddenly the man who made me see my insecurities turned and admired my moves. He looked up at me and put out his hand and as my large palm covered his tiny hand he leaned into me and said " you dance like a retard, now fuck off and find your own women". He then turned, wiggled his ass and led the girls away in a dancing train leaving me speechless and alone. ______________________