This morning I was inspired to write a post about my experience living in Bayonne New Jersey after reading Rockdog's Move In Day post.
The second time I moved out of my parent's house I was like 23 or 24. I decided to move in with this kid named Neil and his older brother, Neil's older brother. I met Neil through a mutual friend, The Birdman, at a wellness camp called Tigs. Tigs stands for the Teen institute of the Garden State. A camp that promoted sobriety and healthy living as an alternative to drugs and alcohol. Sex was the only gray area that Tigs never really addressed... The Apologist and I were counselors for this organization for five minuets during a short bout of hysteria I like to call sobriety. The Birdman was a member of this organization for many years after Corky and the Apologist retired from sobriety.
Corky: Sorry dude, I can't make it to camp this year, I'm huffing gasoline out of brown paper bag right now.
Birdman: Your a dick!
Diclaimer: the joke up above was inspired by Kim Jong Ramone
A little about Bayonne the city: Neil and Neil's older brother rented a pretty nice house in Bayonne NJ. Bayonne I think would qualify as a city in New Jersey. According to the facts that I researched this morning for 2 minutes, 60,000 people live there, and 20 percent of them are Italians, 18 percent are Irish, and 17 percent are Polish. There was a really good dinner at the end of Neil's street, but I'm pretty sure that it was owned by a Greek guy. Greeks own all the dinners in New Jersey with the exception of the Ritz, a dinner in Livingston NJ owned by a Jewish woman (I think). If I made a pie chart of all the women I have dated in my life, it would pretty much coincide with the demographics of Bayonne. I dated a lot of Italian broads back in my day.
There were a lot of logistical issues that I didn't factor in at all when I decided to move to Bayonne. Bayonne was no where near where I worked. I had to commute one hour a day to my part time job. Stupid. I worked at night, and when I would finally get home from work there was never anywhere to park because people who live in Bayonne park on the street because there are no driveways. A good majority of Bayonne's citizens also work during the day so It was almost impossible to find a good parking space at 6 o'clock in the morning in Bayonne. So many days I would spend 45 minutes driving around the block looking for a parking space. Idiotic.
Niel and Neil's brother also worked during the day (which was good, because I didn't have to deal with them) but it presented problems with my life style. I couldn't do anything but go to my room when I got home from work because Neil and Neil's brother owned two deaf Dalmatians that weren't trained and spent 80 percent of their lives in cages in the Kitchen. So making something to eat was out of the question. The only time Neil ever spent any time with these dogs was when he was beating the shit out of them for barking. He'd pull them out of the cage, hit them and thrust them back into the cage. What a guy!
On my first day of living there, Neil gave me a key, introduced me to his brother and said welcome. Then he went to his room and shut the door. Neil's brother never came out of his bed room either. Neil spent most of his time at home in AOL chat rooms soliciting women. I don't know what Neils older brother was doing... The only time I saw him was when he was on his way to work in his suit.
One time I bought roses for a girl that I was dating (not Italian, Jewish), and put them in a vase on the dinning room table so that I could surprise her for Valentines Day. When I got back to the house from picking her up, the flowers were all over the living room torn apart by the Dalmatians, so I pulled them out of their cages and beat the shit out of them. Not the Dalmatians, Neil and Neil's older brother. Kidding, but I should have!
Very shortly after living with those two freaks, I was living on the Birdman's bedroom floor, and then finally back in my parents home for one last brief period. The last thing I heard about Neil is that he was engaged and sleeping with prostitutes. What a fucking guy!
The second time I moved out of my parent's house I was like 23 or 24. I decided to move in with this kid named Neil and his older brother, Neil's older brother. I met Neil through a mutual friend, The Birdman, at a wellness camp called Tigs. Tigs stands for the Teen institute of the Garden State. A camp that promoted sobriety and healthy living as an alternative to drugs and alcohol. Sex was the only gray area that Tigs never really addressed... The Apologist and I were counselors for this organization for five minuets during a short bout of hysteria I like to call sobriety. The Birdman was a member of this organization for many years after Corky and the Apologist retired from sobriety.
Corky: Sorry dude, I can't make it to camp this year, I'm huffing gasoline out of brown paper bag right now.
Birdman: Your a dick!
Diclaimer: the joke up above was inspired by Kim Jong Ramone
A little about Bayonne the city: Neil and Neil's older brother rented a pretty nice house in Bayonne NJ. Bayonne I think would qualify as a city in New Jersey. According to the facts that I researched this morning for 2 minutes, 60,000 people live there, and 20 percent of them are Italians, 18 percent are Irish, and 17 percent are Polish. There was a really good dinner at the end of Neil's street, but I'm pretty sure that it was owned by a Greek guy. Greeks own all the dinners in New Jersey with the exception of the Ritz, a dinner in Livingston NJ owned by a Jewish woman (I think). If I made a pie chart of all the women I have dated in my life, it would pretty much coincide with the demographics of Bayonne. I dated a lot of Italian broads back in my day.
There were a lot of logistical issues that I didn't factor in at all when I decided to move to Bayonne. Bayonne was no where near where I worked. I had to commute one hour a day to my part time job. Stupid. I worked at night, and when I would finally get home from work there was never anywhere to park because people who live in Bayonne park on the street because there are no driveways. A good majority of Bayonne's citizens also work during the day so It was almost impossible to find a good parking space at 6 o'clock in the morning in Bayonne. So many days I would spend 45 minutes driving around the block looking for a parking space. Idiotic.
Niel and Neil's brother also worked during the day (which was good, because I didn't have to deal with them) but it presented problems with my life style. I couldn't do anything but go to my room when I got home from work because Neil and Neil's brother owned two deaf Dalmatians that weren't trained and spent 80 percent of their lives in cages in the Kitchen. So making something to eat was out of the question. The only time Neil ever spent any time with these dogs was when he was beating the shit out of them for barking. He'd pull them out of the cage, hit them and thrust them back into the cage. What a guy!
On my first day of living there, Neil gave me a key, introduced me to his brother and said welcome. Then he went to his room and shut the door. Neil's brother never came out of his bed room either. Neil spent most of his time at home in AOL chat rooms soliciting women. I don't know what Neils older brother was doing... The only time I saw him was when he was on his way to work in his suit.
One time I bought roses for a girl that I was dating (not Italian, Jewish), and put them in a vase on the dinning room table so that I could surprise her for Valentines Day. When I got back to the house from picking her up, the flowers were all over the living room torn apart by the Dalmatians, so I pulled them out of their cages and beat the shit out of them. Not the Dalmatians, Neil and Neil's older brother. Kidding, but I should have!
Very shortly after living with those two freaks, I was living on the Birdman's bedroom floor, and then finally back in my parents home for one last brief period. The last thing I heard about Neil is that he was engaged and sleeping with prostitutes. What a fucking guy!
14 comments:
Hey Captain! I'm glad I could inspire something that for once didn't land someone in jail!
Sounds like a wild time...nothing better than living with deaf dogs and room mates that you rarely see!
Ahh the creepy housemate. I know the type well...
Why do people that hate animals keep them as pets?
Wow! Your past is something else.
Oh wow Its only when I read things like this I realise just how sheltered a life I have led ;)
as for the pets, some people shouldn't be allowed to own them.
They sounded odd. I may have to post some tales about my good for nothing college roommate some time.
Corky: Sorry dude, I can't make it to camp this year, I'm huffing gasoline out of brown paper bag right now.
Birdman: Your a dick!
HEHEHEHEHEE!! sorry. that made me spit tea out my nose. thanks. :[
I just had to go hug my dog. I don't know what I'd do without her right now.
I could swear we grew up in the same neighborhood.
I never want to read the words "Neil and Neils brother" again. ;)
Steve~
Sounds like a surreal life, Corky! But you wouldn't trade em for anything, right?!
PS one of my bros was a big huffer, and my mom couldn't ever figure out what that funky smell was coming from his bedroom (rubber cement, hello?!). -hw
Dude, this is a movie script. You should make an indie flick about you, Neil, and Neil's brother.
And yeah, if you ever see 'em again give 'em a drop kick for pet abuse.
I think I made it to this place once and I thought you lived alone.
Your joke was hilarious!
My internet is down at work, it really, really sucks. I can't surf or anything (did I mention how hard this sucks?).
I moved out of my mom's house when I was 19 and never looked back.
I had a creepy roommate once too. He mostly lived on my floor and we called him Corky...
Yeah,
Neil was a joy for us to hang out with, because he would try to join in on TIGS activities but we just had to drive 40 mins to pick him up, take him back to where we were hanging out, and then do the trip again at the end of the night.
Get a car and stop beating your dogs jerkoff.
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