Few scant weeks ago my answering machine was blowing up. A ghost of homies past left a message. He got my digits from my folks, told me to call him, without thinking of including his number in the five minutes of information he plastered in there. Super typical for this guy.

We'll call him Spumky. Works for me, don't even ask why. Make it work for you beeyotch. I met him back in the day, St.Louis style, when the alcohol was illegally purchased, and I was wallowing in retarded boyhood. That's a condition that exists for all testosterone carriers until about twenty-six. Nothing can be done about it but to age. Sad it is to see the boys that can't ever shake retardom. Fifty years old and still hamfisting their way through pussy. No home training.

Spumky funny enough is one of those sad cases. I actually severed ties with him cause it was overwhelmingly obvious to me that he would never build up the personal life credit to even purchase a clue when it comes to women, and a myriad of common sense street knowledge. I can't hang with damaged types that don't ever get their street cred together. Yeah I am an elitist snob, but when it comes to a social circle I don't see any other way to be. Just asking for headaches letting tards soil your game up.

He would seek out women who obviously had major issues. Then he would proceed to make their life more difficult with confusing mixed messages, veiled put downs in the weak form of suggestions, and basically saying and doing fucked up shit. If I was a chick I would kick him to the curb from jump.

We both worked at the same Italian restaurant in St.Louis. The day I met him, he was bussing tables, I was Mr. host, seating people. He made some sniviley remark about only being one person ( I hate when people feel the need to mention they are only one person or only have two hands, thanks captain obvious, now kick it into gear you miserable slacker ) and criticised my dining floor management skills. See, I would start putting butts in the seats the second a table was cleaned, customers couldn't give two shits whether utensils were on the table yet or not. He got all hot in the asshole having to be watched while putting forks down. So I started taking silverware with me when necessary. Which once again made him pissy. Anything not done specifically to his life mode expectations made him whine like a spoiled brat who just had his lolly yanked from him. This mirrored his approach towards relationships.

Great squattin christ I forgot why I started this. Check it. Spumky is now married with a kid. Fuck, that puts a shiver up my spine, don't know about you. Heaping saddle bags of issues and taints will be foisted upon his children. The future is bleak. Luckily I haven't heard any details as my pop relayed the gem of info my way.

Same idiot who dated a Japanese chick who was incapable of joining any social event. At one of my infamous house parties, she spent the entire time hiding behind the oak in the front yard. One instance when their relationship was souring, Spumky came home to find his geisha girl sprawled out on the bathroom floor, wrists all chewed up from her trying to slit them with a safety razor. Ugh. When he snapped it off with her, she broke into his place constantly. She was just a sample trickle of the river of brain porked women he would plow through, and make their issues with men even worse.

We were roomies here in NYC for sometime. Hell's Kitchen. The complications he would bring home was maddening. The ultimate babe in his book arrived. Actually schizophrenic. Off her meds of course. Made my life miserable just by association. She freaked out one night and attacked us both. She apologised to me on her knees later cause in her words "I trust you, I can only trust you, please, I trust you." Brrrrrrrr. Ca-reepy. The cops called a paddy wagon, and she spent a week in Belleview drugged into a puddle. After they released her, and Spumky changed the locks after I had to insist over and over again that he do ( luckily I no longer lived there, but I had no desire to see homie with his head cut off with his severed prick dangling from his mouth ) she mewed outside his window. He let her in, and........ yes fair readers he fucked her. He told me a few days later, I kicked him hard in the ass twice and walked away not looking back.

So now a shotgun wedding. Baby Spumky was born eight and a half months after they had wed. Exact same way it went down for his folks. Holy shit there's another pair. Confirmation on my resolve that most people should not be allowed to breed. Spiraling drain. All I've been able to do is uncontrolably laugh about the situation. Kid is so hosed. Haven't even heard if it's a boy or a girl. Not that it will matter much. Hosed either way.

Way to go Spumky, I think I officially hate you.