Marty called the other night and asked if I wanted to go with him to check out a new apartment for him and the hag, down in Pilson. I didn’t have any homework from work and I thought a drive would really hit the spot. Besides, we could stop by Abuelo’s for some grub.

So, I walk over to his brother’s house to meet him and I’m expecting to be there for maybe 5-10 minutes, because Marty knows that his brother Jerry drives me crazy with his fucked up ideas. For the last three months, he’s been talking about taking “MMA Lessons” at some new studio in Niles. First of all, the waste of DNA doesn’t even have a driver’s license, so how’s he suppose to get to Niles? Secondly, he’s 48 yrs old and an ex-doper. Excuse me, big time doper. Thirdly, he always starts something new every year and ends up quitting after two months with some lame excuse. And last, but not least, the instructor or whatever this asshole calls himself, is the biggest jag-off in town, after only Todd Stroger. I remember him when he was a bouncer at Excalibur back in the day. His nose looks like a tanned wedge of cauliflower, he’s had it broken so many times. Now, that’s the guy I want teaching me how to avoid a punch to the face.

Anyway, me and Jerry are in the kitchen having a beer, while Marty is on the porch calling his hag (she really is a hag, even my sister called her one). Jerry keeps going on about how this MMA shit could get him back in shape, build up his self esteem and maybe lead to something else, like a doorman job. He’s going on and on and on, for twenty minutes and OK, I guess I had heard enough.

I’ve been looking for a way to vent my career-based frustration, when I look at Jerry and asked if he’d like me to save him a couple grand on the lessons. He was dumb enough to say “Yeah, sure”, and now I can’t believe I did it, but I reared 1238409288_adam-slappedback and bitch-slapped him like he owed me back rent, leaving a huge, red hand print on the left side of his face. Then I said, “You really wanna pay to feel that 200 times a month?” This poor bastard’s eyes swelled up and turned red, and I thought he was actually going to cry. Marty hurried into the room as soon as he heard the slap and asked WTF happened and I told him I gave his brother a coupon. It sounded funny at the time, but now I do feel bad about the whole deal.

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