BOOK?? Who reads??

Some people have told me to write a book, but I can't write, it is hard to write anymore after high school. I can type like a stipper working a brass pole for a Benjamin Franklin big bill. I dance arcross them keys like boobies when I'm coping a feel. But, I don't know about a damn book, maybe a freaking movie, I couldn't stand to read, and all be damn if I'm going to have a book signing somewhere with a bunch of crap I don't like. That would be like watching the NBA Finals with my ex wife. Can't stand either.
I tell ya, from when I was a kid, or back up, the night I went to the party with my dad, and left with my mom. To the time I ate a bowl of cereal and went to tell my gerbil good bye I was going to pre school. That bastard jumped up and snatched onto my lip like frog on a fly. Or the time I thought I could stop my Grandpas hunting dog from running circles, and it knocked me 10 feet out of my damn shoes and kept on going.
Then we can get into the my time in the Army, and I am going to Germany to play that part. Ya darn straight, my liver my die, but I will be in good company with my biers. A good ole German beer is better than a hot blonde nibbling on my ear. Ot the time I got caught in high school having sex in my parents car by the Sheriff, caught in the act, pant's downtown. Or the my 2 stages of dumbass and getting married. Those together would be a damn movie, or maybe we can reduce one's drama.
Or some crazy things, like running down the street from her husband chasing me with a baseball bat. Or the time I thought I could water ski at 50 mph. The great times I had in Branson, maybe not give all that time up, people might think I'm crazy or something. From about anything that has happen to me, including the moments of being silly, and not wrapping willy. But, we will spare that, try to make it a PG-13 so I can educate the kids what NOT to do.

Red Light

I decided that I was done giving blood to towels, and licking my own wounds like a dog, so I wanted to step it up a notch and donate some blood. I trotted down to the Red Cross, and lone and behold, I found out that they want blood, but have singled me out like a skunk with rabies. For some reason, they said they knew me. I read this little "You cannot give blood" list, and all be damn if I wasn't listed. I mean it didn't say exactly if you are Gabe or slept with Gabe, but it was a step worse.
How in the hell do they know what I did in my past? Obviously I am clean, I don't pee green any longer after my meds, I donated my spleen for research, but now I can't give blood because I served my country, and I was stationed in Germany where there are prostitutes? Really, so I guess the Red Cross don't exist in Vegas, that's to bad, I would love to give blood playing poker while drunk.
Then they told me that I could give blood, they just can't use it they will dispose of it. WTF? Really, now I was born at night but not last night, so I did it for the cookies, that old hag wouldn't allow me to eat any cookies cause I didn't give blood, so I gave. I jumped off the chair, said throw that bag away, I have slept with over 50 chicks in the red light district costing me over $300, and now my blood is tainted like your taint when you shit kids, and I'm just here for the cookies. And COOKIE MONSTER I became.
But if I remember correctly, I did sleep with one of the nurses daughters, so I said, I can't believe I am good enough to bang your daughter, but you guys don't want my blood, I'm just in shock. I better go eat some cookies so I can calm down. That old hag chased me out of there with a needle, I can't believe she was so sensitive, it wasn't like I would step down in morals and do her daughter again, been there done that, and wrapped ole willy twice, she melted the first one.

Only Me

I swear to the Greek God of Anthony that I must have the worse luck of all frogs in a Mexicans lunch box. One time, (at band camp), when I was in the Army, I decided that I was gonna drink and ride. I wasn't driving so don't even go there. And off we went in that BMW in Germany down an old paved road and just a giggling, and carrying on.
Around a turn we went, and there to our dismay, the back end came around like a 300 lb lady making a hard right hand turn. Kinda leaving the popping out of her shirt like a half can of bisquits after you bop them on the counter top. She moves and the rest will follow,,,,,one day. Anywho, that back end came around and down we went down the ditch, and rolled a couple times. If I hadn't been drinking, I do believe I may have got hurt. But my first words were, how's the beer? We just bought a rack, of 16 beers in glass bottles, and they road it out in the trunk. I quickly went to perform CPR on the bottles, and we didn't loose a one, now that's good driving. Danica Patrick couldn't even do that in 2 laps at Daytona. But, then we decided to go up the ditch and see if someone would help us.
And they stopped, the language barrier kept us from telling him all is okay, we need a ride, but heck, we made a friend, and drank some beer until the cops came and man I was pissed. Those fools made us dump out our beer, after it rolled twice and lived, I can't believe they were so hard, what the hell? That is exactly how Obama got elected, IDIOTS. So long died the beer, and we got a ride, home,,,,not to the bar,,,,and nothing else happen out of it. But, the loss of that rack of beer still to this day gets to me, and makes me tear up. So, if you need a snuggle too, remember, don't be silly, wrap ole willy.