Recession = Prosperous Times for Street Meat

Well it’s no surprise that things just straight up fucking suck right now.  I, for one, don’t have a shit in the way of “a plan”.  Me and the other Deadbeat Dads of America are desperately scrambling to find ways to get by.  Retirement plans are for people with “careers” and “dreams”.  Stock Options?  Sick Leave?  Benefits?  To people like me “benefits” are things that only come with good female friends and lots of hooch.  The unfortunate reality for most of us is a lifetime of meaningless toil, capped off with grim death and frosted with a pottersville burial.

This is my 401K:


It’s not very responsible, and it sure as shit isn’t very smart, but at the moment it’s all the hope I have in the world of living a life of leisure.

Anyways, enough about my financial problems.  I doubt the three assholes who read this blog regularly, logged on to stare at physical proof of my financial ruin and failure as a man.  

Back to the issue at hand.  EATing strEAT mEAT in the hEAT

23rd and Park

23rd and Park

26th and Park

26th and Park

28th and Park

28th and Park

Offering such fine cuisine as:

Quite Frankly It's HAM

Quite Frankly, It's HAM

These conveyances represent about a fifth of the food wagons, sandwiched within a 10 block stretch of road, near my office each and every day.  They get out there at the asscrack of dawn selling egg sandwiches, bagels, coffee, muffins and donuts to the working stiffs of Park Avenue South.  By the early afternoon they seamlessly transition over to hamburgers, gyros, tacos, halal, fried chicken, etc.

Sure there’s no seats, no bathrooms, no metal utensils, hell the fucking food is sub-par at best, but it’s CHEAP.  And these days CHEAP is the name of the game Jane.  Long past are the days of Madison Avenue offices emptying out to the nearest eatery for midday martinis, steak tartares and oysters on the half shell.  Sadly, that’s all over….  Now we walk 12 feet from the building, buy a 3 dollar burrito and turn our horribly depressed asses around and walk right the fuck back in again.  Lunch never tastes as good as when you’re eating at your desk, I can sarcastically tell you that much my friends.

Personally I don’t much go in for the street food.  Sure I’ll have the occasional “dirty water” hotdog, which will usually result in crippling diarrhea and/or a tape worm longer than the Tehachapi Loop.  But either way I’m burning calories and that’s alright by me.

– Mike James


Published in: on February 27, 2009 at 10:48 pm  Comments (5)  
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The True Annoyance of Being the “Best Man”

I have been tasked with the unfortunate job of chauffeuring one of my best friends into the unknown oblivion that is commonly referred to as “The Institution of Marriage“. 

The Best Man? More Like The Better Man!

The Best Man? More Like The Better Man!

As his best friend, who’s known him 5 times longer than his bride to be, I find it hard to deny my urges to save him from himself.  Yet, after numerous attempts, warnings and threats, he’s stated to me that he’s determined to go down this moronic path, with or without my help. 

I’ve sacrificed my time, my dignity and my very soul in order to be there for him.  But most importantly, I’ve sacrificed the only thing on this Earth I hold truly dear………  And that’s my sweet cash.

Monetary $acrifices I’ve been forced to make because this louse found Love:

1. Engagement Party– Unbeknownst to me, with an engagement party comes an engagement present.  An engagement present?  Are you fucking kidding me?  I gotta dish these two out a gift just for planning to get married?  Where is the line?  When’s the last time you gave your buddy a present just because he or she met someone?  NEVER that’s when.  But tradition says “when you get married you get a present every time you take a shit”.  If that’s the case then I’m gonna have an engagement party every year.  It’ll be like a second Christmas, I’ll have one every June 25th!  Once my friends forked over the goods, I’d let a few months go by and call off the matrimony.  Meanwhile I’d be sitting on a mountain of candy, booze and toys!

2. Bachelor Party – Kick ass!  Strippers, hotel, hooch, gambling (in our case) and lots of laughs.  As much fun as it was it still cost me close to 500 bucks, and that was just my share (which was a lion’s since I’m the Best Man In the Land).  This motherfucker hasn’t even gotten a marriage license yet and it’s already cost me $650 smackeroos.

3. Tuxedo Fitting/Tuxedo Rental – $185 bucks people.  That’s roughly two hundred dollars to simply put on a suit that God knows how many other people have gone commando in.  Let’s break it down, from the minute I put that tuxedo on, roughly 11:00 AM, til the minute I take that tuxedo off (hopefully to bang away on a hottie bridesmaid) around 1:00 or 2:00 AM, it’s two bills.  That’s maybe 13 hours, at 200 dollars that’s about 15 bones an hour!  Would you pay 15 dollars an hour to wear a Halloween costume?  I don’t fucking think so.

4. Rehearsal Dinner – Surprisingly this is basically the only occasion associated with the fucking wedding that’s not going to cost me shit but gas money.  BUT with the gas prices soaring through the roof there’s a good chance I’m going to have to throw down 40 dollars just to fill up my old man’s gas guzzler. 

5. Wedding Day – Wedding present.  Need I say more?  I’m a man, and a true friend.  And a true friend doesn’t buy shit off the registry, he goes full throttle and he gives his boy the only thing he knows his boy needs.  And that’s cold hard cash.  Enough cash for Julia Roberts, circa Pretty Woman, to come back to your hotel room and suck your balls up and down for an entire evening.  Anything less would be an insult to the rank of Detective Lieutenant Best Friend in the Universe.

And finally….

6. The Speech – As the Best Man I’ve got to stand before the entire crowd and deliver a concise speech that details the chronicling of our entire friendship.  I’ve got three minutes to verbally traverse 15 years of time WITHOUT cursing OR bringing up any disgusting sexual acts.  Anyone who knows me can tell you that I curse as often as a bird chirps.  It’s in my DNA, me and swearing are like old people and apple sauce, we GET ALONG.


**Tonight I leave my beloved New York City to head back home and get this fiasco under way.  I’ve made it halfway through the list and by this time tomorrow I’ll be on my way to completing #4.  By this time next week all this stinking mess will be over.  My buddy will be on a cruise ship heading for the Caribbean and I’ll be back at my shitty job paying off this bastard’s happiness for the next 6 months.

With my luck he’ll be dead by the time I get married and he’ll never know the pain I went through.

– Mike James
(The Bestest Man In The Motherfucking Land)

Published in: on October 8, 2008 at 3:33 pm  Comments (3)  
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My Life is Empty, Boring and Meaningless…


…So much so, that I can’t even think of what to post anymore. Nothing happens to me! I’m a robot and all I do is go to work and get drunk after.  


I got my lottery tickets today and I’m hoping in my heart of hearts to win that jackpot!  $15,000,000 is a lot of cash.  Here’s my solemn Mega Millions Lottery oath:


Should I Win the Lottery I Will:

1. NOT donate a single penny to any charities, orphanages, the church, or needy families.  It’s my money dammit, I lucked into it and I’m gonna squander it how I see fit.  It’s not my fault a tidal wave destroyed your hometown or your momma’s addicted to crack rock, blame God for those problems.  Coincidentally:  Attention all prostitutes, whores, goldbrickers, women of the night and barely legal teens, your millionaire gravy train is officially leaving the station!

All Aboard Bitches!!

All Aboard Bitches!!

2. HIRE an assassin to end my fat clump of shit co-worker’s life.  You all know who I’m talking about.  He’s fat, he smells like a ball sack, he carries his keys clipped to his belt like a janitor and he’s gonna be drowning in a pool of his own bile.

3. FINALLY buy myself an apartment worthy of my true inner majesty.  It’s about time the outside reflected the inside.  That’s right, a pussy warehouse that specifically caters to my every deviant fantasy and perversion.  That means waterslides, dumbwaiters, a trampoline, massive gun collection, huge rotating bed in the shape of an “M”, secret passages in the walls, private security team of ex-DELTA Force, all that.  Plus I’ll hire a loving yet surly maid who’ll take care of me and treat me like the son she’s happy she never had.  Basically I want Webster’s house…..only underwater.


I hope these guys are still available

I hope these guys are still available

4. REFUSE to buy my parents a house, even though that’s what you’re supposed to do when you get rich, I vow that I will not do this.  My mother and father neglected to purchase me a Big Foot power wheel when I was a kid.  Unfortunately for them that was the first and last straw, I never forgot it.  No house for them and that’s final!  In fact I might use my new found wealth to burn down the house they’re currently living in as a penalty!

This idiot should have been ME

This idiot should have been ME

5. MARRY the Pornstar Tory Lane.  Baby I love you!  You are the nastiest of the nasty, the sluttiest of the slut, the dirtiest of the dirt and so help me I’m gonna make you Mrs. James.  If I have to pay your adult movie star day-rate for the entire time we’re married I’ll do it.  Some of you might be asking yourselves “Why a porn star Mikey? Why not a virgin? Or a famous actress perhaps?” Well fools I’m rich and I can buy whoever I want and I want to buy Tory!  TORY please accept my hand in Holy Matrimony Greasy Baloney Pony!

6. BRIBE normal folks to do horribly emotionally scarring things.  I win the money first thing I’m gonna do is pick a happily married couple off the street at random.  I’ll pay the man 10 G’s to let me bang his wife.  After the sex is over I’ll completely welch on the money!  That’s right Indecent Proposal style, it’s an oldie but goodie.  If the jealous and destroyed husband comes after me I’ll  have one of my private security team snap his neck like a breadstick.

7. GO on a Midget Safari – I think this one is self explanatory.

8. PURCHASE and reclaim what should have always been mine.  In addition I’ll also kidnap the owner of and I’ll force him into backbreaking slavery, afterwards I’ll sell his lifeless corpse to the Body Exhibits, thus adding capital to my already massive fortune.  Coincidentally the new will revolve around each and every mind-numbing aspect of my now super-rich lifestyle.

9.  FIX IT so that Paul Walker (the worst actor who’s ever lived) would walk no more!  I’ve had it with this guy, he’s a weed and he pops up everywhere for no reason whatsoever.  He’s a talentless hack and deserves the steely fate of a wheelchair and respirator.

You Fucking Dweeb, DIE!

You Fucking Dweeb, DIE!

10.  CREATE a brand new 13 o’Clock that would be in effect only on Friday and Saturday nights!  That means the new pecking order is 11 PM, 12 AM, 13 AM, 1 AM.  This way we can all relax just a little bit harder on the weekends.  Of course by then I won’t care what you peons do with your weekends because my entire existence will be like one long weekend.  A weekend full of fun and sex and booze and hard narcotics and guns and pony rides and porn expos and rigging of baseball games and cotton candy and elephant hunting (both the real thing and the archaic fratboy practice of asking a fat chick out on a date only to horribly embarrass her in front of your friends) and all that jazz!  It’s gonna be sweet. 


– Mike James (Future Admiral of the Earth)

Published in: on September 14, 2008 at 8:34 pm  Comments (1)  
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