Weekend Warriors

tommyrawblog@gmail.com

Weekend Warriors

Mmmm, finding something to do
on the weekend huh?

Bike riding sounds okay.

Maybe even a nice leisurely walk

through the park.

Better yet, how ‘bout sitting in front of your brand new, big screen television, with a pepperoni pizza in one hand, and an ice-cold beer in the other. With the remote control keeping your balls company on your lap!

Holy shit, is that the perfect weekend, or what? No kids, no wives, no phone calls. Just you, the ball game, with a little sprinkling of Baywatch beauties inbetween innings.

Oh yeah baby,
life doesn’t get much better than that does it?

But, quit'cha dreamin’ loser. You know as well as I do that’s never gonna happen. So, c’mon back down to earth, and get your fat ass outta that chair, and go do something.

Anything!

Because you know damn well that your wife 'n kids would never let you get away with such madness. Especially the enjoyment of those beautiful re-run Baywatch boobies.

Now go and find yourself an adventurous hobby or sport to play. Something outside of your comfort zone for a change of pace.

And well, that’s exactly what I did.

Twice!

And both times, it hurt. LoL

And these certain 2 adventures were brainstormed by none other than my long time friend Gregg. That's right, the guy who took me to the shooting range. The pistol packer himself!

I should’ve known better than to do anything with a man who was on his way to meet a cruise ship aboard an airplane that had an engine fall off on the way to Miami.

Fall off!

Fall... the fuck OFF! LoL

What the fuck was I thinking?

Anyway this first adventure was pretty funny. You see, Gregg came up with this big idea
to go horseback riding.

Who the fuck am I, John Wayne?

Maybe we’re gonna go out
and rustle some cattle?

I can’t remember how he talked me into going,
or even if I agreed to go without a fight.
Either way, I was a doomed man!

We went to a riding camp in Brooklyn, New York, of all places. Right off the Belt Parkway along the water. Who even knew they had horses
in Brooklyn?

I usually stay as far away from that borough as possible. In fact, whenever I make a wrong turn, and realize that I’ve ended up in Brooklyn by mistake, I usually do two things.

The first is to put my foot down on the gas pedal all the way to the floor.

The second is to clean off the human remains from the hood of my car,
when I make it to my destination.

No no no, only joking of course!

I don’t clean anything. I bring the car to the car wash, and let them deal with it.

Joking again!

I love it when I’m in Brooklyn.

Okay okay, back to the story.

Well, lemme tell ya, the only other time that I was ever on a horse in my life
was about 40 years ago.

I was about ten years old or so. Some friends of ours were involved with rodeos and horses. One day while attending one of the rodeos, my friend Doreen pulled me up on the back of her horse, and trotted around the stadium at halftime.

And oh, man, I thought I was gonna die. This is one white kid who just does not belong on the back of a fucking horse. Any horse!

Even that mechanical one outside the supermarket. Just keep that quarter in your pocket where it belongs, thank you!

Well we arrived at the riding grounds and made the arrangements to go out for a one-hour ride. We were booked to ride with the very next group. And believe me; it was all downhill from there!

I remember choosing my horse.

I told those Clint Eastwood wannabe bastards who were running the joint, that I wanted the slowest, most crippled muthafuckin’ nag
on the entire damn lot.

And for the most part, that’s pretty much what they gave me. I figured if I was on one of those old-timers, that maybe, just maybe, I could save at least a tiny bit of dignity, and possibly leave with my head semi-high after the ride was over.

Well, how do you think it all worked out?

You’re right, the dignity, and poise went right out the fuckin’ window, even before I got on that crippled son-of-a-bitch.

And that was the problem, I couldn’t!

Get on, that is.

I couldn’t get on the fuckin’ horse! LoL

Oh man, what a douche I was.

It's harder than it looks you fuckheads,

so stop laughin'.

Strike one!

I had'ta walk the horse over to an elevated deck, and climb on from there like a little girl.

Good grief dude.

The embarrassment had begun already.

I ain’t never seen John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, or for that matter, Wrangler Jane from “F” Troop, get on a horse like that.

Oh man, I was such a spaz!
And well, not nearly as pretty as Jane.

But, eventually, I did make it onto the horse,
and lemme tell ya, it was disgusting.
It smelled so fuckin' bad.

There were flies buzzing all around me, and my balls were getting crushed by a saddle that ten thousand other smelly asses sat in……… Ewwwww!

I hated it already, but I hung in there just to see what was going to happen. Although I wished I hated it enough to get the fuck off, right then and there. But I hung tough, sitting high in that muthafuckin' saddle baby... oh yeah!
Rid'em cowboy!!
Yeee ha!

But then, just as I began getting my cowboy on, a strange thing happened. All of the sudden, I heard this thundering waterfall-type sound.

Then both instructors bristled,
and began loudly yelling at me to get up.

I thought to myself, get up?

Get up where?

I’m already ten fuckin’ feet in the air, where the hell do they want me to go from here?

I mean I was still at the elevated deck at this point. We hadn't even taken one step yet and here I was getting yelled at. What the fuck!?

They continued to yell...

“Get up!

Get off of his kidneys,

he’s going to the bathroom!”

Could you believe this shit?

The stupid horse couldn’t even hold it in
until we were finished.

Strike two!

Well, at least now I knew what the waterfall sound was! But fuck me, we hadn’t even started yet, and these two idiots were yelling at me
like there was no tomorrow.

Oh yeah, like I knew I was sitting on the horse’s kidneys. Who knew! I didn’t even know that they had kidneys. I thought they were all just
full of glue!

Hey fuck you, don't laugh!

All my life, the only thing I ever heard about horses was that when they died, that they were sent off to the glue factory. Now how the hell was I supposed to know any different?

Sorry, that sounded really funny in my head,

at least! Christ, maybe I should have been sitting "side-saddle" on that bitch??

Oh be quite... LoL

But c'mon, the piss that came outta this beast was incredible, and was splashing all over the place. I bet he could’ve filled up ten
Snapple ice-tea bottles!

And his prick was the size of my fuckin' forearm. I couldn’t look at my own dick for a week after seeing that monster. Penis envy
is a terrible thing to go through!

Well, finally, we started on our journey.
It was Gregg, myself, two or three other people, and the instructors.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. We were just lazily walking along a wooded path, avoiding the leaves and branches, as they tried
to gouge our eyes out.

Then, eventually, we broke through the vegetation, and ended up on the beach sands. Beach, in Brooklyn?

Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought.
(Remember, I was a Staten Island guy)

Well, there we were, on a fuckin’ beach. I felt like Charlton Heston in the final scene of one of the greatest movies ever made,
The Planet Of The Apes!
The only thing missing was the
dismantled Statue of Liberty!

Well, as we hit the beach, one of the instructors said a couple of very disturbing things.

First she said...

“Don’t let the horse lower his head towards the sand. They tend to wanna roll in the sand whenever they can! So, if you feel the horse start to roll, make sure you jump off
before he lands on you!”

Am I outta my fuckin’ mind, or what?

Did you just hear what she said?

First it was bathroom habits, now, I’m gonna get crushed to death by a fucking crippled horse,
in Brooklyn no less.

That wouldn't look too good

on my tombstone either.

“Here lies Tommy Mondello...
he forgot to jump off
and let a horse rollover on him...
In Brooklyn!”

I’d be the laughing stock of my neighborhood.
I could hear everyone saying the same thing,
I didn’t know they had horses in Brooklyn!
Fuck me!

I didn’t say a word to the instructor after hearing that. I was scared that if I got all riled up, that the horse would sense it, and start running.
I was practically frozen in the saddle.

But wait, the muthafucker wasn’t finished.
She then continued with...

“Okay, anyone who wants to run full out, you can now do so. But, make sure you stop him at the end of the beach, or he will run right out onto
the highway killing you both!”

Could you just smack this bitch, or what?

Am I in the fucking Twilight Zone here?

Is this Candid Camera?

But they made sure they got our cash before they hit us with the dangers of horseback riding in Brooklyn didn't they? I don’t think that they had the threat of getting run over by a car,
on a real horse ranch, do you?

Well, as if I had to tell you guys, my horse didn’t take one fuckin’ step! Not one gallop! Fuck me, fuck the horse, and most of all,
fuck those two instructors!

Man... I love that word!

I just had my glue-filled, senile-stud, walk around in circles, until the Magnificent Seven all returned back to camp. Even Gregg took off running. That show off!

Me, I couldn’t wait to get the fuck off of that smelly beast.

Eventually though, my horse just said fuck it, and took off anyway. I guess he got jealous, knowing he got stuck with a pussy boy for a rider!

And, I swear, I don’t know how I didn’t fall off that thing. Because after he kicked it into gear and began running, I was like a rag doll
in that saddle!

With arms and legs flailing around as though as though the saddle was made of nails or friggin' porcupine quills... LoL
Oh shut up dude...
it was death defying man, no really!

Gregg said, that from his vantage point behind me, I looked like Jerry Lewis riding a horse.

But I’ll tell ya, I really felt like Jerry Lewis while sitting on that thing. On man, you had'ta see it.

I’m sure this will be the last time you’ll ever see me on another horse! I hated every bit of it. From the rivers of piss, to the mountains of shit,

to the fly's dive-bombing towards me
like fucking kamikaze pilots.

The closest I ever wanna come to a horse again is rooting from the rail as he or she barrels down the final stretch towards a winning bet
in the 5th race at Aqueduct!

Strike three, I'm out! LoL

But this little 4 legged adventure could never ever compare to our now infamous canoe trip.

I remember that we were doomed

from the very start!

Let’s call this nightmare...

Up the creek without a brain:

The adventures of Paddle Boy,

and The Life Vest Kid

I only have these five words to say.


“Just hold onto the boat!”


For these words are embedded into my memory, for as long as I am still breathing
here on this earth.


The day started out on a low note, as we got lost on our way to the lauching point!


Last time I checked, the Holland Tunnel got you to Manhattan. So, unless we planned on floating down the Hudson fuckin' River, I’d say
we made a wrong turn somewhere!


But eventually we righted the ship,
and set a course for the Delaware River.


There were 4 of us in the car.
Gregg, Al, Kirk, and myself.
Al was doing the drivin’.


These two guys were so fuckin’ funny.
On the ride there we had a bunch of laughs.

Disco was playing on the radio which, well, under different circumstances
would’ve drove me insane.


But just listening to Al and Kirk singing
Buffalo girls go round the outside,
round the outside
was just too good to get mad at.


Although, deep down inside, I really did just wanna open the door and jump right outta the fuckin' car. And, I didn’t even care that we were doin’ 60 some odd miles per hour at the time! (It’s tough to keep that rock-n-roll gene down!)

Okay, so a few hours later, we finally made it to the lodge and met up with the rest of the crew.
I didn’t know any of them,
but it didn’t matter once we got to floating.

Oh yes, the floating.

After getting everything prepped, it was finally time to hit the water. Gregg and I had our own canoe, and we were like seasoned professionals, so we thought.

We had our paddles and life vests, and of course, the most important item of the day, the cooler!

Which just happened to be filled to the top with beer and sandwiches! That baby got tied down good and tight. We didn’t wanna risk losing any of that precious cargo along the way.

The instructor gave us all the last rights,
then off we went.

For the most part, the ride was slow and smooth. At some points we even tied a few canoes together, and floated down the river as one.
It was just a beautiful day to be on the river,
and it couldn’t have gone any smoother.

Right up to the point where the both of us
almost drown, and died of course!

Oh man, it was crazy.

Listen to this.

At this time of the year the river was nice and calm, except, for this one spot that still had some pretty big rapids. But you still had the option of paddling to the shore and walking your canoe past the rapids, and then jumping
back into the fray beyond the whitecaps.
Which 99% of the floaters did!

And in retrospect, I wish we had done just that as well. But of course, like the 2
know-it-all dickheads that thought they
knew everything, we just said fuck it!
Let’s paddle right through those fuckin’ rapids!

Well, we tried it,

but there wasn’t much meaningful paddling
involved at all.

Okay, so here we go.

Bang, we hit the rapids!

Right off the bat we start getting thrown around pretty good, but still held our own.
It was almost like being back in the saddle on board that fucking glue factory of a horse!

But then we ran into a huge white-caped rapid.

The canoe shot straight up into the air,
and then got swallowed up
by what looked like a fuckin’ black hole.

Let loose the Kracken muthafucka...

let loose the Kracken!!!

Obviously, it wasn’t a black hole, but it was a huge dip in the water. And what usually follows a huge dip? Well, a big fuckin’ wall of water,
that’s what!

Bang!

The next thing we knew, we found ourselves still paddling away, only now the entire canoe was completely engulfed in water.
Oh, man, it was hilarious.

We just kept trying to paddle, as the canoe sank deeper and deeper below the waterline.
What a picture!

Two idiots, sitting a canoe, submerged in water, just paddling away as though nothing was wrong. Fuckin’ knuckleheads! LoL

At this point, it all still seemed to be funny,
as we were cracking up hysterically
with Ringing Brothers jocularity.

But then, all of the sudden,
as the water reached about chest high

(with us both still paddling mind you)

the canoe finally tipped over,
sending us rolling out
into the chilly raging water.

The next thirty seconds were probably the scariest thirty seconds of my life. Even more so then when I jumped outta that plane. When I did that, the uncertain feeling of that parachute not opening only lasted a couple of seconds,
but this nightmare seemed to last a lifetime!

We both got thrown into the fast moving, cold angry water. Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore.

The water threw us around like rag dolls.
We were hitting the rocks below,
and getting banged up pretty good.
And that’s when I spoke
those amazing words...

“Just hold onto the boat!”

Over and over and over again, I yelled this out to Gregg, until we finally made it to calmer waters. Holding onto that boat probably saved us
from really getting hurt bad.

Oh man, I’m laughing so hard right now
as I type and relive the madness of it all.

It was like our battle cry!
5 words that lead us to the promised land.
It was like Braveheart yelling out...
"FREEDOM"...
as his life was bled from his body!

The whole thing just happened so fast, but also felt like it would never end at the same time.
You know what I mean?
One minute we were know-it-all woodsmen manhandling that canoe and river, and the next, we were in an Abbott & Costello film!

But when we hit that calm water,
the laughs returned, as if nothing
had ever happened. We snapped right back
into the roles of the know-it-all assholes.

So okay, our canoe was underwater, we were cold, sopping wet, and a bit bruised up. But hey, we were alive muthafucka... we were alive!

But, that wasn’t the worst of it. Remember how I told you that we tied the cooler down real tight, to protect our precious cargo? I even highlighted that line in red for you.

Well, we did an extraordinary job tying the cooler portion down to the canoe. If we only had done the same to the fucking cover, then maybe we wouldn’t have lost everything!

Can you believe it?

We forgot to tie the fuckin’ cover down!

The damn empty cooler, was still tightly
tied 'n bound to the canoe which was now underwater, while the cover was already downstream, waiting for us to catch up to it!

Two fuckin’ retards, huh?

We lost everything!


I remember standing in about four feet of water, and watching sandwiches and cans of beer,
our beer, floating by.


Our sandwiches and fucking beer were floating by just laughing at us! Everything was gone, except of course, the empty,
thoroughly tied down cooler!


Even Gregg's jacket disappeared.
And then he came up with just the most classic line for that ever. A line for the ages in fact.


As we were standing there, trying to preserve what little dignity we had left, he calmly said...


“Sure, we lost all our beer and food, and to make matters worse, some fuckin’ fish is wearin’ my Members Only jacket right now!”


Oh man, we just died laughing when we all heard that one. But who the fuck wears a Member's Only jacket to a fuckin' canoe trip... LoL?????


Retards!


I’ll never forget that nightmare. It was like getting punched in the face by Mother Nature! That fucking bitch!


But... did she have to take the beers too?