eff a party store
at first when i began this blog, i thought, "what the world needs is a blog about three chaldean party store employees in detroit around the turn of the nineties." then the marijuana wore off.
but now that i'm on the wagon (got my 48-hour chip coming around about 7pm tonite, babies!) , i see clearly that the world does indeed need a blog named "party store," an apt description (or at least a suggestion) for a truly great repository of my brilliantly feeble thoughts.
so let's talk about me, not about abdul, habib, or any of those other be-gelled west bloomfield dwellers (movin' on up from SOUTHFIELD, WHAT??). they remain in my heart as always, but when they switched up the party store sign and the name of the stroh, i lost a measure of my allegiance to the brothers. then one of them ran off to ann arbor to make it in the Big College City and found that as a purveyor of alcohol to minors, he was an instant campus celeb. but i digress.
we'll see where this blog takes us, but more than likely it will never surpass the peak of my young life, the early achievement that leaves me bitter to this day: my small role in the 1983 Disney epic Tiger Town, filmed in my beloved motown. tis true, this boy's image was committed to celluloid before stepping foot in first grade. as the youngest tyke on the set, i was often the center of attention, even from the waning star, roy scheider. the supreme shark-battler himself called me cheez-ball, because i loved eating cheez-balls. and oh how i did eat those planters cheez-balls...
and now i'm some pothead loser with a dead-end job in new york city. moved here because i thought it would become like the god of this shit. take the city like the muppets done did. invent a new style of rap? pen a novel or two? become a noted character actor based on my oddly compelling looks? nah, never that.
now i'm damn near addicted to the city but i have so few funds with which to enjoy the place. should i maybe cut back on those compulsive phone sex calls?
oh well, at least they leave me pretty well alone here at the jay-oh. i can read my favorite blogs like this and that. keep up with the best scoops and snaps, what have you. bossman don't botha the i-man too much, so maybe i'll just have to pass the savings on to you, fair reader.
but now that i'm on the wagon (got my 48-hour chip coming around about 7pm tonite, babies!) , i see clearly that the world does indeed need a blog named "party store," an apt description (or at least a suggestion) for a truly great repository of my brilliantly feeble thoughts.
so let's talk about me, not about abdul, habib, or any of those other be-gelled west bloomfield dwellers (movin' on up from SOUTHFIELD, WHAT??). they remain in my heart as always, but when they switched up the party store sign and the name of the stroh, i lost a measure of my allegiance to the brothers. then one of them ran off to ann arbor to make it in the Big College City and found that as a purveyor of alcohol to minors, he was an instant campus celeb. but i digress.
we'll see where this blog takes us, but more than likely it will never surpass the peak of my young life, the early achievement that leaves me bitter to this day: my small role in the 1983 Disney epic Tiger Town, filmed in my beloved motown. tis true, this boy's image was committed to celluloid before stepping foot in first grade. as the youngest tyke on the set, i was often the center of attention, even from the waning star, roy scheider. the supreme shark-battler himself called me cheez-ball, because i loved eating cheez-balls. and oh how i did eat those planters cheez-balls...
and now i'm some pothead loser with a dead-end job in new york city. moved here because i thought it would become like the god of this shit. take the city like the muppets done did. invent a new style of rap? pen a novel or two? become a noted character actor based on my oddly compelling looks? nah, never that.
now i'm damn near addicted to the city but i have so few funds with which to enjoy the place. should i maybe cut back on those compulsive phone sex calls?
oh well, at least they leave me pretty well alone here at the jay-oh. i can read my favorite blogs like this and that. keep up with the best scoops and snaps, what have you. bossman don't botha the i-man too much, so maybe i'll just have to pass the savings on to you, fair reader.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home