Monday, May 7, 2007
Hungover on Monday
One shouldn't be hungover on a Monday morning. This weekend was very impressive in terms of the volume of drinking and childish, immature behavior. Saturday night took a turn for the worse when one of our buddies thought it a good idea for the cab driver to take us to check out the strip club on our way home from the bar. I was drinking a bud light at the bar refraining to spend my hard earn caddy money on a lap dance when i see my good friend getting carried out by two cops handcuffed. The reason? they said he was pissing in the garbage can.
We tried to bail him out but the cop were jerking us around, we glad he is okay and well. Yesterday instead of not drinking and starting the week off on the right foot, we decided to get hammered at an outside beer garder for the Cavs game, it was 70 and sunny, excuses excuses. While I remember everything my friend and future contributor to this blog doesn't recall puking up his grape bomb three times and getting cut off at the Coventry Paninis, a very hard feat in and of itself. Instead of going home he went to a strip club on Miles Rd (the arm pit of Cleveland) where he kept drinking and ordered a chicken pot pie. I feel awful and ashamed of my actions right now but i guess it was a good weekend. Go Cavs!
We tried to bail him out but the cop were jerking us around, we glad he is okay and well. Yesterday instead of not drinking and starting the week off on the right foot, we decided to get hammered at an outside beer garder for the Cavs game, it was 70 and sunny, excuses excuses. While I remember everything my friend and future contributor to this blog doesn't recall puking up his grape bomb three times and getting cut off at the Coventry Paninis, a very hard feat in and of itself. Instead of going home he went to a strip club on Miles Rd (the arm pit of Cleveland) where he kept drinking and ordered a chicken pot pie. I feel awful and ashamed of my actions right now but i guess it was a good weekend. Go Cavs!
Friday, May 4, 2007
Unhealthily Spiraling Downwards
I turn 24 next week. I am very scared about it. Today, for the second day in a row, I did not go to my job. I gave no reason for my absence and in fact did not even alert colleagues and superiors I would simply not be coming into the office. I simply laid in bed hibernating and occasionally rolled over to hit the snooze button for over two hours. I did happen to get out for a quick trip to McDonald's to pillage the dollar menu. I sit in my apartment watching Law & Order reruns and watching my car outside my apartment accumulate parking tickets as I remain unmotivated to put forth the effort to move it.
This is an actual account of real events. It is not my broad attempt at describing the average day of an average denizen of Painesville, Ohio.
This is an actual account of real events. It is not my broad attempt at describing the average day of an average denizen of Painesville, Ohio.
Other Blog Names I Thought of Using, Based on People Whom I Dislike
emoRockisLife
ScoopJacksonFan
NoExcusesRule76
TillmanAmericanHero
CallMeTex
SingingJourneyisHilarious
MoreWoodyPage!
JeepCommercialAuthor
HockeyAddict
DontFuck?FineByMe
CarlosMencia4President
ScoopJacksonFan
NoExcusesRule76
TillmanAmericanHero
CallMeTex
SingingJourneyisHilarious
MoreWoodyPage!
JeepCommercialAuthor
HockeyAddict
DontFuck?FineByMe
CarlosMencia4President
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Quite Frankly
I just saw an "NBA Cares" commercial featuring various service work done by NBA playas throughout the world. It showed the likes of Dikembe Mutombo doing work in Africa and Steve Nash teaching kids how to read. It shows their name and then lists their team underneath as they pan from photo op to photo op. One player shown in the commercial is Jerome Williams. The team he plays for is "NBA Legend." Quite frankly, I think this is not an accurate classification of the "Junkyard Dog's" basketball career. Shouldn't he still be in the league?
My Blog Name
First of all, let me address my Blogname. I have chosen Jonny for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, it gives me the chance to boldy throw the "y" behind my name as so many crazy, fun-lovin' guys have done before me. While in the real world I shall remain "Jon" to cronies or "Jonathon" to family members, man-servants and toll booth operators, I am now Jonny in Blogworld. Secondly, I suppose it could also be an admittedly less unorthodox tribute to Jhonny Peralta (who married the Lakewood Country Club coat-check lady's daughter) and the Tribe's fine April. Jhonny has been described by his mother-in-law as a "quiet man." That seems about right.
In other news, I bought a $6.29 fruit cup today at the new Whole Foods Cleveland style. Believe it or not, this latest addition to the Eastside culinary scene has even the most loyal patrons of Kosher Chicken Restaurant opening their hungry eyes. Yes, that is an Eric Carmen shoutout.
Being a native Westsider, however, I can sympathize with The Youngest's aformentioned evening. I can't tell you how many times I have found myself alone at quasi-Irish bars in Lakewood with eccentric geriatircs. At least he was playing the tambourine and not the skin flute.
Can someone inquire about a Gawker sponsorship?
In other news, I bought a $6.29 fruit cup today at the new Whole Foods Cleveland style. Believe it or not, this latest addition to the Eastside culinary scene has even the most loyal patrons of Kosher Chicken Restaurant opening their hungry eyes. Yes, that is an Eric Carmen shoutout.
Being a native Westsider, however, I can sympathize with The Youngest's aformentioned evening. I can't tell you how many times I have found myself alone at quasi-Irish bars in Lakewood with eccentric geriatircs. At least he was playing the tambourine and not the skin flute.
Can someone inquire about a Gawker sponsorship?
The Tambourine Man
Welcome.
I went out last night to get some socials and found a place that had 1.50 Miller Rights so one thing led to another and I ended up being out all night getting hammered. I went to like four different places and ended up at closing time at this piece of shit called Nolan's. It claims to be an Irish bar yet they don't even have draught beers and only serve American bottles out of some cooler in the corner. They do have an Irish flag draped behind the bar. Anyways, there were maybe five people in the entire place. There was a seventy year old man there getting insanely hammered. He was very gray and emaciated and looked quite blue collar. He may have been a painter or something. He should have been retired. There was karaoke at the bar but no one was in there so it became just a lonely DJ playing shitty music like Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit." The old man, however, must have been well aware of Karaoke night at Nolan's because he brought his own instruments. My night ended in a drunken haze sitting around this empty bar with a 70+ year old man with a tambourine he brought himself, blaring out "Shot Through the Heart" by Bon Jovi. No one even seemed to notice as he held the mic in one hand and banged his tambourine against his right leg with the other hand and attempted to get out the words of the legendary musician and Arena Football League diehard. Who goes to bars past 1 AM when they are over seventy years old? Who brings a tambourine to a bar?
I went out last night to get some socials and found a place that had 1.50 Miller Rights so one thing led to another and I ended up being out all night getting hammered. I went to like four different places and ended up at closing time at this piece of shit called Nolan's. It claims to be an Irish bar yet they don't even have draught beers and only serve American bottles out of some cooler in the corner. They do have an Irish flag draped behind the bar. Anyways, there were maybe five people in the entire place. There was a seventy year old man there getting insanely hammered. He was very gray and emaciated and looked quite blue collar. He may have been a painter or something. He should have been retired. There was karaoke at the bar but no one was in there so it became just a lonely DJ playing shitty music like Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit." The old man, however, must have been well aware of Karaoke night at Nolan's because he brought his own instruments. My night ended in a drunken haze sitting around this empty bar with a 70+ year old man with a tambourine he brought himself, blaring out "Shot Through the Heart" by Bon Jovi. No one even seemed to notice as he held the mic in one hand and banged his tambourine against his right leg with the other hand and attempted to get out the words of the legendary musician and Arena Football League diehard. Who goes to bars past 1 AM when they are over seventy years old? Who brings a tambourine to a bar?
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