Friend of The Devil

"Jumped out wit a new gun- hold dat, fam"

Can't wait 4 da Misfits Skull cover up.... I never knew ur name was ALEX!!!

Any Jay-Z fans?

You guys aren't going to believe this, but I'm required by the mental health law division to meet with a Dale Gribble type crackhead sha shaa middle school counselor type dude once a week. He insists we got hiking and one time we went on a hike and dude turns around real fast all "Sha shaaa" just like in that picture, cept dudes wearing a leather jacket and has his hand in the pockets like he's going to pull out a weapon or some shit. What a fucking train wreck.

Yep, Dale Gribble the crackhead. Sha shaa indeed.

"The real shit".... and i got more stories than JD's got Sallinger, so watch out boyeeee....

remember -Sudz- ??? The kid that used to draw the cows and post em 12 years ago? Whatever happened 2 him? Ouija was a mod back then 2....

N e one got flix of holyoke? last time i was there the plaze was bombed

Upstate NY??? Lets see some mofuckin AKTR yo

Not mush northeast... i like da Rate/Noxer and the MEcro and the erupt is nice.

You mean "BAG IT"... cuz you'll be baggin groceries the rest of your life.

Across town Nancy was at a salon with some friends getting their nails done. "You'll never believe this guy Kevin I took home the other night." "Oh yeah?" Her black hair blue eyed friend Cynthia asked her. "Oh yeah indeed, he's such a hunk, maybe I'll let you meet him if you're lucky."

It was a cool autumn New England night, so we were unable to eat on the patio of the bistro. We sat inside near the window and I had the chicken cacciatore. The gal, who i learned that night is named Nancy had the caesar salad with grilled chicken. We split a bottle of Merlot 1993 that was made in Chile, nothing too exquisite for 1998 and then had the most exquisite Chocolate Mousse cake for desert. The rest of the night was a haze, but I woke up at her place and was treated to a plate of eggs and toast for the first time in what seemed like ages. She called for a cab to take me back to Larry's, we said our goodbyes and she promised she'd call me some time in the next week. Man I felt like I was luckiest guy in the world.

Jeez tough audience we got here. Larry's been single his whole life, which is what i mean by "bachelor"- he lives the life of a playboy business exec. he does, however, have his bachelor's in business from BU, class of 83.

Larry's a bachelor and has been his whole life. Dude wakes up and eats his jimmy lean and eggs and Kevin don't know how to get the job done, he just uses the soap as a lubricant to help the steel wool cut through the grease.

This story takes place in the 90's when Mr. Clean still had a dish soap.

That evening when Larry got home from work I threw some pre-marinated cajun sirloin tips from the supermarket on the george foreman, poured us some sam adams, and turned the TV on to watch Frasier, our favorite sitcom of the time. As we consumed our meat and beverage along with some mashed potatos and carrots that i'd whipped up earlier Larry asked me a couple of serious questions, "Kevin, what do you suppose you'll do when you move out of my apartment? What's the missing piece of this puzzle of ours we call life?" I took a deep breath before answering him "Well, Larry, I suppose that all depends on what kind of a curve ball is thrown at me as far as occupation goes to begin with. And as far as what's missing, well Larry, I guess we may never know."

The next morning I woke with the pounding headache of a hangover. Larry had already gone to work and had left the newspaper open to the business section on the kitchen counter next to a half dranken cold pot of coffee. I made myself a bowl of cheerios and cleaned up the remnants of Larry's egg and sausage breakfast. As I washed the cast iron skillet in the sink with steel wool and a drop of Mr. Clean I couldn't help but think of the Gal I met near the fountain the other day. Her smile was like a shooting star aimed directly at my heart. I walked down the block to watch some street performers, there was a man about my age playing his own renditions of some classic songs on a Soprano Saxophone. I stood next to a college girl wearing a teal colored beret and her friend, put three dollars in the man's saxophone case and watched for a few songs.

The following day I'd spend with a phone in one hand and the want-ads section of the newspaper in the other looking for work. I must have called about 17 places, mostly restraunts only to be disappointed at either the wage or the fact I was useless to them due to my need to work a full time position. You see, at my last job I was a mechanic, but I'd done it all; construction, clerking, pumping gas, and just about every position you could fill in food service to say the least. That night when Larry got back to the apartment after his work was done at the swanky business firm he was employed at downtown we had some buddies over and watched the Pats play the Raiders over a game of 5 card holdem and some Red Dogs. After our friend Andy had taken every last cent out of Larry's pocketbook from us we all went out onto the deck for some Cohibas that our other pal Charlie had procured during a business trip to the florida keys. we stood out there under the dark blue sky making small talk enjoying the tobacco smoke. The Pats won of course and I passed out once again on Larry's black leather couch with a throw blanket over me still with my slacks on and the TV running paid advertisements for get rich quick schemes.

I approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her as we met for the first time. "Nice afternoon" I said smiling with my arms crossed and my red flannel scarf hanging over my tan overcoat. "It is. I'm waiting for a friend, we're going to see Babe: Pig in the City at the local cinema. Have you seen it yet?" She asked me. (the year was 1998 mind you). I answered that I was not interested in such trivial things as movies about talking farm animals. She understood and gave me her phone number and suggested I'd call two days from now, which I assured her I would.