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.
Birdmand: Your a dick!
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 lots of problems with living in Bayonne. I worked at night and Neil and Neil's brother worked during the day. That's not really a problem except that I couldn't really use the house when I got home from because they were sleeping.
ud. I worked at night when I lived with Neil and Neil's older brother, so when I came home at 6:00 am I would always wake up the dogs and they would start barking ( probably because they had to piss). Out would come Neil and pull the dogs out of the cage and beat the shit out of them, and then go back to sleep with out saying a word.
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.
Birdmand: Your a dick!
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 lots of problems with living in Bayonne. I worked at night and Neil and Neil's brother worked during the day. That's not really a problem except that I couldn't really use the house when I got home from because they were sleeping.
ud. I worked at night when I lived with Neil and Neil's older brother, so when I came home at 6:00 am I would always wake up the dogs and they would start barking ( probably because they had to piss). Out would come Neil and pull the dogs out of the cage and beat the shit out of them, and then go back to sleep with out saying a word.
No comments:
Post a Comment