Bulletin Board of Bad Behavior

I haven't wore anything that resembles underwear since 1987. Loose and fancy free seems to work for me, but I think I'm the only one. When Martino was in Seattle i was wearing shorts that i ripped in a drunken stupor the night before and the next day, still drunk and on a bender we went out to cafes and restaurants and bars with my ass hanging' out. so maybe I am a bum. a bum with a nice ass.

i was going to comment on this very subject but i am glad that i waited for you to do so first.

let's just say you have a knack of flashing a bit without showing too much, and that is an ability that normally only smart women have. (although it was pushing it with the torn shorts, i think.). it's good that you don't run around with your flies open cause that would be truly embarassing.

I don't understand too much of this post. I'm not flashing anyone. shit' I'd get arrested. Reminds me of the story Little Birds by Anis Nin.

oh, i just thought it was a a bit of very subtle and amusing flashing to the womenfolk. nothing to be said against a little butt cheek or testicle skin on the side. remember, i'm european. but then i obviously got you wrong. sorry!

those first two days I was too drunk to be subtle. But it's probably a good thing I didn't get completely naked. Though you might not have minded, you European. I wish I was laying naked on a cliff in Casis, eating watermelon, with the juices flowing down my chin.

This is where we will have a Pax Acidus rendezvous.

http://www.16patton.com/items/9_20.html

I gotta admit that the geriatric retired guys at the tennis club are teaching me to be a gentleman. Sometimes when I get there early I’ll warm up with them. And for old fogies they ain’t so bad at all. One guy was the Arizona State champ back in his day; the other was a star and number one seed for the ASU team.

What they are teaching me is etiquette, to them it is as important in tennis as it is in life. And so of course there is a lesson to be learned that even my thick head can get. It screams out to me; learn you stupid bastard.

When an opponent faults his first serve just long, you don’t smash it right back at him proving that even if it did go in you would have creamed him. No, you catch the ball and put it in your pocket, or hit it into the net and get ready for the second serve, not knocking the server off his stride.

When they call a ball out that you think is in, you just smile and get on with the next point, you don't throw your racket at them and scream that they are blind motherfuckers and you hope all there children are born with tiny little penises, even the girls.

When playing doubles and your teammate makes an unforced error at the net that even your retarded paralyzed great aunt Gretchen could have volleyed you say, “nice try.” Not, “You suck more than my great aunt Gretchen who is retarded and in a wheelchair.”

These are only three examples of what I learned yesterday. Today I’m sure I’ll learn some more.

Yesterday I learned drinking five Martinis at lunch after three hours of tennis and on an empty stomach is like taking acid and beer bonging a six pack of Colt 45. Throwing up in the club house bar, all over the cute little outfit of some guys trophy wife while spewing pick up lines like, “Honey you are too fine for that old fart, let’s go take our clothes off and jump into the Jacuzzi!”

Everyone looked scared, either from me or for me.

“Let’s all get naked!” I yelled, while people called security and I started to slide out of my see through shorts.

“Let’s be European just like Martino,” I shouted as the rent-a- storm troopers threw me out.

Well, yesterday just wasn’t a life lesson learned in etiquette.

“And stay out ya’ bum,” said the rent-a-storm troopers. “We don’t like you European types around these parts.”

In short, you got drunk, got obnoxious, and got thrown out of the club. I'll bet it was really funny. I woulda had to roll on the floor laughing.

Hey, McCutcheon, what in the world are you doing in AZ and having time to go to the tennis club everyday? Do you work there as a young Bjorn Borg look-a-like tennis pro????

myke

man mc, i am gonna sue you for rupturing my hernia if you keep on with these hilarious anecdotes.

pretty unbelievable but very cool. unfortunately i have to assume it happened.

I think this is all definitely worth publishing. Every day when I read something new I laugh what's left of my ass off.

So I had to go talk to Kim Jong the tennis club pro and beg to be let back on the courts. I kept my head bowed to show how sorrowful I was.

“Please can I come back and play tennis here? It was all a big misunderstanding. Tensions with the war and all that. Go USA!” I said.

“I don’t know, there has been a lot of talk, none of it good.”

“People are always saying we don’t have enough strong personalities in tennis these days.”

“They mean on the pro circuit, not in the Evil Heat country club.”

“Oh.”

“Will you stop playing the Hip Hop so loud?”

“Yes.”

“Will you stop giving Freedom Pints to minors?”

“Yes.”

“Will you not call Bob an old fart and stop trying to get naked with his trophy wife?”

“Yes.”

“Will you stop trying to get naked with the Arizona Diamondbacks wives?”

“Yes.”

“Will you stop trying to get naked with the Arizona Cardinals wives?”

“Yes.”

“Will you stop trying to get naked with the Phoenix Suns wives?”

“Yes.”

“Will you stop trying to get naked with Phoenix Coyotes wives?”

“Who are the Phoenix Coyotes?”

“The hockey team.”

“We have a hockey team?”

“Yes, remember pinching Sheryl Ann’s ass last Tuesday?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s married to the goalie.”

“Oh.”

“Will you stop trying to get naked with my wife?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay kid, behavior yourself. Go get back out there.”

Kim patted me on the butt and I started to jog out to the courts.

“Hey,” Kim shouted after me.

I turned to face him.

“Yes, sir?”

“Who the hell is this Martino character?”

Do you really wanna answer that last question?

i'm calling my lawyer

That was funny. Good work McC.