Wild Ones

I’ve known some. I was just reminded of a guy I knew who would chug a big gulp from 7/11, then belch talk the entire alphabet, dragging out a long ‘Z’ to end his performance…’One hit Dave’. His ability to put is legs behind his head, sans Levi’s, then, light his farts, always made the party…One Ton Todd. He would regularly win bets by eating a Big Mac in one bite. Holy shit, it was AWESOME! He would smash it in his big paws prior to inserting one end of the mass into his mug, then, inhale it while seemingly unhooking his jaw like a large constrictor snake…Jake, the janitor at the Saugus V.F.W. He would make bets he could drink a beer with out touching it. Guys would take that bet, then say, “No using a straw, old man!” Jake would then match the bet, take out his dentures, put his mouth AROUND the beer can, suck it in and tilt his head then drain it. For a cool ending, he would then suck a dent into the can and spit it over the bar…Frank Angelostro would bump start his 175cc Tempo while pushing it backwards, then, hold the bars sitting backwards all the way down the street…I could do an entire chapter on Don Sorensen. He was a wild man prior to being dragged down Van Nuys blvd under a van on his Yamaha. When he got out of the hospital, he walked like a drunken Frankenstein, and talked with a slur. He blew his entire insurance check on a chick he met that wanted to live in Hawaii. When the money ran out, he moved in with me. Some Don-isms: I meet two babes. I bring them home. Don is polite. He then goes into his bedroom while I entertain in our small front room. As we’re having some wine, Don comes back into the room naked, with just a sock covering an ENORMOUS erection. He then says a polite, “Ladies, have you seen my other sock?” I take Don to the Kern river. We camp at the rock slides above the one way bridge. A great day. Until the bikers and their truck flunkies take over our spot. Don begged me to stay to eye ball the biker chicks awhile. It gets dark. Don goes to sleep in the front seat of my Power Wagon. A big bonfire is going. A biker chick starts taking a beating right next to where I’m sitting on a log. Her old man drags her by the hair, then, shoves her face against my truck driver window. He has a branch from the fire he had grabbed while dragging her. He’s screaming at her while putting the blazing torch next to her face. In the pitch black, it was frightening. Suddenly, the window slowly cranks down. Don’s face appears, in his mouth, a fat doobie. He says his slurred, “Hey Bub, how about a light?” The guy puts the torch to Don’s doobie. He puffs it into a big cloud, then cranks the window back up. After things settled down, we collected money for a beer run, then never went back…Oh, Don’s favorite thing was to eat a big meal at a restaurant, then, act bewildered when he had to pay up. He would cry big tears and sob out of control until they just let him go. If not, the cops always did. They all knew him…Mexican Bob. He was a supply man at Formasa garage. He told me he once spared himself jail by getting sent to the psycho ward from putting his peanut butter off his jail sandwich into his butt crack, then, eating it and licking it off his fingers like it was shit as the judge was talking to him…Mike the mook. A big drunk at Barneys Beanery. He would break and run as cops tried to cuff him. He would always blow them away from his prosthetic arm coming off as they tried to cuff him…Smokey Joe. He would take out his fake eye and blow smoke out of his eye socket…

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