Category — Uncategorized

On Thursday, March 27, 2014, Bill Dannemiller <wddannemiller@gmail.com> wrote:

It’s another cold , gray Ohio morning . As I drive around town it and see all of the familiar places that I spent my youth everything seems so familiar . All I can think about when I drudge up my memories from the early 80’s is how I rebelled against a lot of things and couldn’t wait to grow up so I could get out of here and live my dream life in the sun . Here it is over 30 years later and I’m still here wishing for a better future amongst the cold , gray depressingly familiar sky .

Fat Franks

In 1980 . I was 13 and had very little money but it didn’t take much money to have fun back then . Kids back then would find all kinds of ways to get money . We would get ours by returning the pop bottles to the Sparkle Market at Highland Square . My brother and I would pack up as many 8 packs and large bottles that we could and make the 3/4 of a mile trek to the Sparkle . We would get 10 cts each for the singles and a quarter for the large bottles . When we would get there Hazel the one eyed pop bottle lady would say in her Quasimodo like slur from behind the customer service window glass .

“Pop bottles . Pop bottles . Put your pop bottles in the metal box.”

On a good day we would be able to carry enough to make between $3.50 and 4 bucks to share . Just enough to get us over to Fat Franks across the street .

Fat Franks was a deli at highland square that had a back room with 3 pinball machines and just about every early 80’s video game that you can imagine . Space Invaders , missile command , PAC man , galaga , asteroids , centipede , dig-dug etc…

I used to hang out there with people like the Volke Brothers , hamad brothers, paul and pat mccaffrey , Mickey , Nick and a bunch of various juvenile delinquents that your parents didn’t like you hanging out with . There was skeeter bomberter , creepin Jesus , rob Hendricks , Billy upton and

Keith is a man of many talents. He is part time carpenter. Piano Mover , Siding installer . Gas Station Addendant . Parking Addendant . Gutter cleaner . Boat Captain .  Keith being the forward thinker that he is has gotten himself into and out of many situations with his Logic Free and Impulsive thinking over the years . I describe it as two words that were on litterally every other page that I read of his Physchologocal and Criminal Profiles that he had laying out on top of the bowl in his bathroom . Most people read the Wall Street Journal , Time or the local sportspage while on the bowl .  Let me tell you that those things have nothing on the side splitting , jaw dropping laughter that resides in these pages .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WlEqLwVARuY

Its hard to be a Cleveland Fan. Fuck that! It’s torture and excrutiatingly painful to be a Cleveland Fan. Why does the sun never shine on us? Everytime we have a shot at a championship something always gets in the way. I’m not even going to get into the past. Its well known what has happened to us and doesn’t need to be talked about. What the Fuck!  What did we do to deserve this? This is Fucking Bullshit and I’m Fucking sick of it. Every year I hope and pray and remain optimistic about our chances of winning a championship. Every year I am disapointed. I’m Fuckin 43 years old and I am sick of this shit! 

Thats why it is so important that Cleveland finnally wins a title this year . To give a Big FUCK YOU! to all the assholes that have everything and want more. Can’t we have one Fucking moment in the Sun for Crying out loud. New York has won multiple championships in the past 40 years.  Boston! Fucking Boston has championships from all of there teams. L.A. multiple championships. Hell every major and mid major market in the country has won something except for Cleveland. And now people want our only hope to leave.

I was raised during the 70’s when Cleveland was the butt of every joke. I was raised to believe that this place wasn’t a total shithole that the rest of the country made it out to be. Our teams were our badge of honor and were something that represented us. Yeah they sucked. The Tribe was horrible in the 70’s. The Cavs were mostly bad , except for a couple years and the Browns didn’t get it together until 1979. Since then each of these teams has had a shot at a title or two. All have ended in Disapointment.  Now Sports are Media driven. It’s Big money and smaller markets like Cleveland are often overlooked. Baseball wants everyone to believe that everything revolves around 6 or 7 teams. The Yankees, Mets, Red Sox, Phillies, Cubs, Angels and Dodgers.  Now the rest of the Nation wants us to believe that we are not worthy of having a player like LeBron James. They think that the sport would be better off if he were in New York of L.A. Well if that happens I will have no choice but to give up sports because its never going to happen for us. Even if it does happen. Will it change my life? No probably not, but it would give me some kind of closure about the pain of the past.

Noethen Buys a Donkey

[Phone ringing]

Noethen:  Yes, hello, is this Latin Lust Desires?

Muffled Female Voice:  ¿Qué pasa?

Noethen:  Yes, um, I see from your website that you specialize in “Latin Animal Lust”

Muffled Female Voice:  ¿Quién es esto?

Noethen:  Right, I want a disease free Spanish chick with really big –

Muffled Female Voice:  ¿Te gustaría un burro?

Noethen:  Wait, what?  You mean a donkey?  No, no . . .

Muffled Female Voice:   El burro es inteligente

Noethen:  Well, smart is nice . . .

Muffled Female voice:  El burro es grande

Noethen:  I see, a big donkey, but –

Muffled Female Voice:  El burro es largo

Noethen:   Long too – I got it.

Muffled Female Voice:  500 pesos para el burro.

Noethen:   Send it right over. 

The events you are about to read about are true. The names have not been changed to protect the innocent.

May 15, 1982  12:51 a.m.

I’m 15 and riding my bike home from a sensational evening spent drinking Little Kings, Smoking Brown Aqueduct Weed, and finger banging Barbie Deek all night. It’s a warm and quiet night with virtually no traffic anywhere in sight until I arrive at the intersection of Castle and Garman. In the distance I can see a car moving pretty fast towards me and I can hear the muffled sounds of music blaring from the car stereo.  As I wait at the intersection for the car to pass I notice that it’s not slowing down as it approaches the 4 way stop. In fact it doesn’t stop. As I’m sitting there at the corner a Big Gray 1968 Cadillac blows through the stop sign , turns hard to the left , slides into the middle of the intersection, I hear some screams and a guy throws a empty beer bottle at me and the driver floors the gas pedal and continues down Castle at a high rate of speed.  All I could think about was ” I’ve got to party with those guys!”            This was the first time that I had seen or heard of VanderArk. As I found out later It was VanderArk Driving with Steve Brubaker , who threw the beer bottle at me, Chris Medvedeff and Bill Wise. All of whom were on 2 hits each of Blotter Acid and on their way back from the Kinks concert at the Coliseum.

Vanderark and I became friends shortly thereafter due to our common interests in the three D’s. Drinking, Drugs and Destruction. We both were big Fans of National Lampoon, especially the stories of O.C. and Stiggs. They were our heroes and we tried to emulate everything they did. From launching Piss Balloons at people ( which by the way did not work very well) to trying to get William Holden styled drunk from the booze we would steal from our parents liquor cabinets, to just good old fashioned fun like roof riding or heaving old T.V.’s out of the back of speeding cars. We were living the dream!

Not everyone can be the pussy pounder extraordinaire. It’s hard to be the best and most excellent at everything you do. Bru makes it look easy though. He is to being excellent as James Bond is to being a spy. From doing back-flips to the weasel dance to just the plain old fashioned Brubaker Pussy Pounding. There is no denying that he is the most excellent at everything he does. And just so you don’t forget exactly how excellent Brubaker actually is, He lets you know it on the hour, every hour. Like the first thing he said to me this morning when I picked him up was about how he tagged his wife in the ass last night and at the same time had a dildo shoved in her mouth and one in her vag and how he told her to ” Take it you dirty bitch!”  Now I ask the question ” What kind of person would enthusiastically give you that type of info without you asking them?  My Answer, Mr Excellent himself and Pussy Pounder Extraordinaire Brubaker!

See he has no filter between his brain and his mouth. He tells you exactly what he is thinking even when he shouldn’t.

1968 Catalina

Case of Beer. Check!  Dime Bag. Check! Tranquillizer collection. Check! 151. Check! and we were off on our way to Geauga Lake for the day. Vanderark, Brubaker, Paul, Nagel, Rosenfeld and me. Vanderark had his grandfathers 68′ Catalina.  As we headed up Portage Trail. The Dead Kennedys ” When ya get drafted” blaring from the car, we pull up along side a student driver.  Brubaker then decides to lean out of the window holding a bottle of Bacardi 151 in his right fist , clutching a Bud tallboy in the left and is literally 3 feet from the student driver yelling ” FUCK YEAH!  FUCK YEAH MOTHERFUCKER! all while Vanderark who is huffed up on glue swerves toward the sudent car. To this day I still am amazed how we were never pulled over. About 20 minutes down the road and about 1/3rd of the 151 bottle later Bubaker then decided to barf out of the front passengers window while we were doing about 85 with all of the windows down. There is nothing quite like the feel of barf hitting you in the backseat at 85 miles an hour.

About 10 minutes later we arrive at the parking lot  entrance for the park and its $2.  Between the six of us we managed to scrape up about $5 but Vanderark thought that was to steep of a price to pay for parking so he put his foot to the floor and took off through the loose white graveled parking lot.  About 200 hundred yards ahead the parking lot attendant is signaling for us to turn to the right. Not slowing down and with his foot still to the floor Vanderark cuts the wheel to the shrap left and begins to slide. As he comes out of the slide he floors the pledal again and begins to donut. All he does is just cut the wheel to the hard lef and floors it. As we are spinning around Brubaker is Again screaming Fuck Yeah! Fuck Yeah Motherfucker! All I remember is the G force pinning my head against the door window and spinning around and around for what seemed like forever. After the car finally come to a stop and the dust settles we notice that the windshield has been cracked like a spiderweb across the glass.

What in the world did the long suffering sports fans of Cleveland do to deserve this kind of punishment? In my 41 1/2 years there have been exactly 0, yes zero championships in our beloved, yet beleaguered city. And for all you Homos that want to tell me that the Cleveland Crunch won the Indoor Soccer Campionship in the 80’s. I have one thing to say to you. It doesn’t count because it’s not a real sport and American Soccer is for Fags! Since I was a little boy in the early 1970’s I have gone into most seasons with a real sense of hope and optimism. That this year could possibly be the year that one of my teams finally brings home a world championship. It starts in spring with the Indians. Then they hopefully get me to the end of July for Browns training camp. Then their job is to get me to November when the Cavs start. Then the Cavs have to get me to March when spring training starts. So as you can see it’s a cyclical trend of hope followed by the inevitable disappointment. And it has happened every year for the last 41 years of my life. [Read more →]

“Between ’52 and ’69, however, the national attitude toward flammable bodies of water had changed.”

http://sports.espn.go.com [beer night]