Me and Uber Eats

So I'm sure most, if not all of you are very aware that me and Uber Eats are best friends. I babysit his kids and he borrows my apt when he wants to cheat on his girlfriend. Like, they should be my emergency contact because they always know where I am. 

Although I am a VIP member of the Uber Eats community - self proclaimed - I have had several different incidents with these people that make it very much a love/hate relationship. 

First of all, I'm an avid believer in feeding the less fortunate. So, occasionally, I'll order food and then fall asleep before it gets here just so that the Uber driver can have dinner. I'm a good person like that. I've bought them pizza, Jack in the Box tacos, McDonald's ice cream sundaes, and even fried chicken. And you know how I am about fried chicken. It's all on purpose, too. I absolutely mean to fall asleep after I order food at 2am after a night out on the town. It's my way of giving back to the community. 

Now saying that, there are times these people test my nerves.
I ordered cheesecake once to be delivered to my apartment. I am not proud of this moment, but it happens. They are little cups of cheesecake with all sorts of flavors and they are fucking delicious and stop judging me. The lady delivering these little cups of heaven to me was in my complex and couldn't find my apartment through the parking garage and winding (one hallway) apartment corridors. She messages me, "Can you come to the front and I'll meet you there."
My response.
"Lady. What part of ordering cheesecake delivered makes you think that I'm willing to walk anywhere to meet you?"

Same apartment complex, I ordered Church's Fried Chicken. Again... you know me and fried chicken. The driver was in the parking garage and going around and around, as I could see his whereabouts on the app.Circles and circles, messaging me that he was on the way.
And then I see him exit the complex.
With my chicken.
And then he cancels the order.
Uh. Sir. Did you just thieve my chicken?! Where the hell do you think you're going?? I contacted Uber and they said that I didn't meet the driver. I told them I tried to, but he kidnapped my goddamn chicken.
They made me pay and I went to bed hungry.

Last night, we had some bad storms here in Dallas for about, I'd say, 45 seconds. Tornado warning went off and was quickly canceled by the National Weather Service. I had ordered Chicken Express - stop judging me - and was waiting on Karen to pick up my order. She calls at one point and says, "The sirens are going off now and I think I need to take cover." No problem. Be safe. Just bring me my chicken. Again, I can see her driving on my app. I see her going toward Chicken Express to pick up the order, and then turn right.
And she kept going.
And kept going.
And kept going.
Bitch. Where the fuck you going?! Chicken Express is the other direction! I WANT MY CHICKEN!! I messaged her, "Are you still going to pick up my order??" And she calls. "I'm looking for cover." Where you looking for cover, in your garage?! This bitch made it all the way to Mesquite before I canceled the order. 

All in all, I love Uber Eats and should be part owner with the amount of my money they have. I completely endorse it and will always depend on them to feed me early morning and late night and all the times in between. And from time to time, I may even still feed the drivers. You know. On purpose.

Until next time...

Will the Real Roger D Please Stand Up?

Since Katy likes to call motherfucker's out on how NOT often I post shit, here's another post in the same month as the last. 

In yo face, Katy Beth.

Some of you know that I tried a stand-up comedy night a couple of months (since COVID, it could have been 4 years ago for all I know) ago and it went like this:

I went to a bar on a Monday night just to chill. Sitting, talking to some random folks at the bar, the bartender tells me there is an open mic night for comedy upstairs at 8pm. It's 6:30pm and I have had enough to even consider it. I get a little excited. I text some people to ask if I should do it. Being the GREAT friends and also dummies they are, they encourage me to do so. So I go upstairs. And sign up. And IMMEDIATELY start drinking heavily. I have HORRIBLE stage fright. Karaoke is one thing, but if you've ever been in a place where I had to give a presentation, you KNOW I suck at public speaking. And I just signed up to public speak on purpose. So. Fireball.

I tried to get anyone to come and be my hand to hold and no one showed. In their defense, I gave about an hour notice so I get it. No hate, I swear. I wouldn't go either.
The show starts. I watch several people go up and make the crowd laugh. I laughed HARD several times. With each chuckle, my confidence level is diminishing. "I CAN'T DO THAT SHIT" keeps running through my head. I get closer and closer to my turn to go. And they call me.
And. I. Am. Hammered.

Usually when I am doing karaoke or something, I can drink a couple and be cool to go. This was different. I had to APPARENTLY get hammered to even stand up. Literally.
So I walk up to the stage. And try to remember what I wrote to say. 

Three sentences come out. I got exactly ONE person to chuckle one time. And I completely forgot anything else I was going to say. I said, "Ok. That's it." And ran away like I was Wayne Campbell getting caught taking pictures on a phone pole. I would have run into a gay bar like he did except I was already at one. It was DEVASTATING. I bombed worse than Hiroshima. 

My comedian friend, Bryan Kellen (look him up - he's fucking hilarious) told me that everyone does so on the first try. His incredibly encouraging and I love him for it. But I also wanted to punch him in the throat at the same time for saying that. I ain't trying to fail! But. I get it.
So... taking his encouragement to heart, I am going to now post what I was SUPPOSED to say and hope that my thirsty ass will get the laughs I wanted to get that night if I had been able to speak english like a real person instead of a belligerent fat boy with a microphone. 

So. Likedtohearit, hereitgo.

Hello. How’s it going? My name is Roger. And I am a homosexual.

I don’t wanna say that. That’s too strong. It’s just been too damn long, I don’t even know what going on down there. It’s basically whoever touches it first. I’m like the next election. “I guess this is what we’re doing now.”

I did recently go through a breakup, though. Yea. I know. Sad. It was with my dentist. Apparently, I’m too “damaged” and “out of money” to continue our relationship. Ass hole.

He was fine, too! I met him on Tinder. Starting flirting and shit. Then asked me to come in. At the end of the day, too. So of course, in MY nasty ass mind, I was picturing the shit I done seen on PornHub.
Or the porn site of your choice…
Like, I walk in the office. He’s with someone so he hollas from the back. “I’ll be right with you!” Goddamn RIGHT you will. The last patient leaves and he calls me back. Awwww soookie soookie now!!! I seen THIS movie. I sit in the chair and he tells me hello. He says, “Put this on” and instead of a bib, he hands me a condom and shit. OOH WEE!

Instead this nigga hands me a bib and starts drilling my goddamn teeth. Instead of wanting my fucking phone number, this fool wanted my insurance group number and shit. Ain’t THAT a….

That's it so far. I'm working on the rest. The next time I go, I hope I have enough time to have the backup my thirsty ass needs so that you can be there and I don't have to get so goddamn hammered. Help a brotha out. 

Anyway. Thanks for your support and donations (hint hint) and help. I love you dearly. 

Until next time...

Life at Bowser Oaks

If you know me at all, you know that I usually move about every... ummm... 4 days or so it seems. I am not in one place too long. Mostly because of legal reasons but that's neither here nor there.

Most recently, I moved into a complex in Dallas called Bowser Oaks. And I love it so much. My apartment reminds me a lot of my apartment in New York, minus the bitchy cunt that lived across the hall. And the kitchen is bigger than the Easy Bake Oven of a kitchen I had there. But the size is comparable (that's what she said), the "central" heat and air isn't controlled by me, and the community is so nice.
Being where it is, there are quite a few people of the homosexual persuasion. They like the outties instead of the innies. And nothing is more obvious that this is the case than when the pool guy comes. He's a young buck that has that, "I probably haven't showered since I went and fucked that girl last night and I am still burping up Coors Light and Jager" bad-boy look. And when he comes to do the pool, the dudes come out to watch. He doesn't get shirtless or anything, but there are about 5 apartments that open their windows and/or doors and watch him work that pole. And by pole, I mean the one that's attached to the pool skimmer. It's pretty hilarious.

A couple of days ago, we had a little incident involving a hammer, a crackhead, and my window.

Earlier that night, I had decided to drink a bottle of premade watermelon margaritas. So around 1am, I was in the kitchen in my underwear and a tshirt making a salami sandwich. Cause what else would I be doing. All of a sudden, I hear glass breaking. Twice. I run out the front door - with my bare legs and hamster package showing. My upstairs neighbors tell me, "he went that way!" So I run in and put shorts on so that I don't get beat up and made fun of all at the same time. I go after him and, being not sober, confront him.
"What the fuck, dude? Was that you??"
"Yea, so what?"
"The fuck is your problem??"
As he walks toward me, holding the hammer with which he just spread glass across my walkway.
Still completely not sober, I wasn't afraid. I was just ready to break out my Berry Gordy's Last Dragon, Bruce Leeroy moves.
He stopped walking toward me and turned back to the street. I think he got intimidated by my dad bod and buldging biceps. And by biceps, I mean belly.
I called 9-1-1 and went back inside to grab my glasses. What I found out was that he had done the same to 3 other apartments in my complex, which is why the neighbors were outside. They heard the noise and were outside when he smashed through mine. He is standing in the middle of the street with the first cop arrives, still wielding the hammer.
"Drop it! Drop it!"
Crackhead turns and walks away.
"This your third warning, drop it! I'm going to tase you!"
He continues to walk.
The cop yells out to the group of us that gathered to both watch this dick nugget get arrested and sweep up the mess he created.
"You guys are my witnesses - I warned him!"
And taser.
And it was just as great as you're picturing.

Eventually, like, 10 other cop cars showed up. Not sure why. I guess there wasn't going on in Dallas on Thursday. They took my statement, my info, and I swept up the mess and went to bed. Didn't finish making my sandwich. Mostly because I took this as God's way of telling me to not eat that bread.

It's really the only incident that happened here and I'm a-ok with it. I get my own parking spot, the neighbors are fun, it's literally across the street from a bar, and the shower is something from Red Shoe Dairies. I already told my landlord to bury me in my parking spot because I don't plan to leave.

Come by and see it sometime! After this COVID shit is done. Don't be bringing that shit over here.

Until next time...

What's up, Doc?

So as a 37 year old man who's paying for his own health insurance like a real adult, I went to have a physical from my doctor this week. My doctor, who's been my doctor since I started at SkyChefs in 2006, is an older slightly overweight man who loves golf, judging by his office decor.
This doctor is one of those older white men who try to act like they aren't older white men. You know what I mean? Like, he likes to talk, "slang" so it sounds like he is a slightly less older white man. Saying things like, "balls" and, "your thing" and, "getting hammered". He's even a little racist.
When I was diagnosed with diabetes, he was trying to explain what I could and could not eat. I mean. Like a good doctor would.
"You know, you can still have tortillas. But just have one tortilla, not four."
Oh. "Gracias, doctor."

And so judgemental! The common question to every patient is, "do you drink?".
"Yes, I do."
"How much?"
Which, there is NEVER a correct answer to. Because no matter what the answer is, you're either lying or you sound like the human version of Barney from The Simpsons. And of course, in response, I lied.
"Just on the weekends."
"How many would you say you have over the weekend?"
Which, again, there is NEVER a correct answer to. So. I lied again.
"All weekend? I guess 20?"
To which he replied with the look of a man who was just told that the shot of Fireball he just took was $8. To which I immediately realized I had made the wrong decision.

During the physical on Monday, his cell phone went off. He looked at it and said, "damn telemarketers."
"I know! Always calling at the wrong time.", I said in my best old white man accent.
"Right? My wife gets them too. Here recently, she's been getting calls and Facetimes asking if she wants to hook up! Like, the other day, she gets a call and there was some black mans face on her phone, asking if she wanted to hook up!"

Uh.
What?

I don't know how to tell you this, sir, but your wife is a hoe! I ain't NEVER had a telemarketer trying to ask for ass! What kind of websites and 900 numbers is that bitch calling that she gets dick offerings?! And "black man's face"?! Dude! We ain't friends like that! Be a professional!!
But what do I expect?? I had to have the "finger test" during this physical. Not by choice, you gaycists. Because I have issues. The whole time he was talking about it, he kept saying things like, "the dark hole" and, "coming in from the rear" and, "putting my hands on your butt". Thanks, professional. Anus will suffice.

I've never really had the best of luck with doctors of any sort.
While I was in New York, I joined Tinder. Cause that's what hoes do - they hoe out with other hoes. Swiping right and not seeing, "You've Got a Match" is incredibly disappointing but has become a VERY real thing for me on a daily basis. So when I finally got that glorious message on a very attractive person with beautiful hair and olive skin, I was pretty bloody excited. Turns out, this swipe was a dentist. We chatted and chatted and he was well spoken. Which, coming from PlentyOfFish.com, is more of an improvement than they'd even like to admit. He asked if I had a dentist in NY yet and I said no. Because let's be real - I barley had one in Texas either. But this fool was hot so... "Sign me up, Scotty!" He set me up an appointment at his office in the city. For late afternoon. I would be his last patient of the day.
Bow-chicka-bow-WOW, nigga!!
Ooooh weee!! You know my head was ALREADY at that point. Shit, I had us already naked in the streets of fucking Time Square with balloons and rainbows. Man, I was so excited, I left work early. I said, let me prepare myself. Fucking manscaping and showering and doing my hair and shit. I'm saying man, I've seen THIS porno.
I would walk into the office with only the lights of the back examination room lit. I'd say hello and he'd tell me to walk to the back. His shirt would be slightly opened and he'd apologize for being so casual, but it's been a long day. He'd already let his assistant go. I'd sit in the chair and he'd ask if I was ready for my oral exam. Haha! Mmm mmm, bitch! Fucking Marvin Gaye is on the overhead and shit and we would get. it. ON!

The reality was NOTHING like that. I went into the fully lit office with 34 other people. He cleaned my teeth, told me how bad they were, and then charged me three hundred goddamn dollars. Instead of my phone number, this fool wanted my insurance information.
#crookedface

Back in Texas as an adult, i guess I need to find a new dentist and now a new doctor. I don't like him telling me he's, "coming in from the rear". Especially when I'm only there for a flu shot.

Until next time...

Bricks Breaker

I found a game that has ABSOLUTELY taken my obsession to a new level. It's called Bricks Breaker and I'm on level freain' 234 cause I'm fucking amazing at it. I want to explain it to you, I'm so excited about it.

It's the basic brick breaker game. You have a ball that you're breaking bricks with. Aim and shoot and you break bricks until you move to the next level.






What's ironic is that it is so much geometry and physics, both of which I SUCKED at, that I don't even feel like I should be playing this game. I learned NOTHING of those subjects in high school. I cheated off of Ryan McFarlin and Esteban Ortiz, respectively, in both of those subjects that I was able to graduate high school. But get off me on this GAME! What's great is that I learn now when I make certain moves. If I hit the first block in a certain way, it goes a certain way and I know that I'll break more bricks than if I went for 1) a different block and 2) a different angle. When I hit it wrong, it doesn't do what I want it to. (That's what she said) The more bricks you knock on the first go-round, the further in the level you'll get. But you have to pay attention! Because if you hit that first one wrong, you won't be able to set yourself up for the rest of the round.
Kind of like when you see a situation come up that you've seen before in life. If you react the same way that you did before, you'll make the same mistakes and knock the same "bricks" down before, but still end up failing the round. Repeated behavior will end in the same results. Hmm.

Anyway, there are times that you hit the first block right and it doesn't end up in the same position with the same blocks eliminated. Which is weird - but science. I don't have an excuse for that but it is what it is. That's when you think you're doing it right, but it doesn't end up the way it's supposed to. That's fucking frustrating because if you don't hit that block right, it doesn't set you up for the next block to knock out. And then it's a chain reaction! so you have to start the round over and over again until it does what you want it to. But I HAVE to know that it is the way I'm making that first move that doesn't make it do what I want it to that makes the second move fall into place! SO FRUSTRATING!!
Kind of like in life when you think you're doing the right thing but after you make that move, you realize you're still making the wrong move that you've done before and your next level isn't coming because of that first messed up move. Hmm.

Anyway, when the blocks move down, I get scared as hell. Because they are all worth a lot more the further they move down. So like, the first level is only 68, which I have 68 balls. But the further I play the game, the more balls I game - which means the more bricks I have to bust. And they are coming so fast!!!

But the fast the ball goes, the more blocks that bust! And it's getting me to my goal of clearing the goal!! And I even get help from time to time. Like the little "signs" that the board gives me that knocks out blocks without me having to try. Which is awesome. Because that's blocks I don't have to worry about now because I used the sign to knock them out.
Kinda like when there are those signs in life that help me get to my resolution. As long as I use those signs, they eliminate the "blocks" in my life that would otherwise take longer to eliminate. Hmm.

Anyway, when those blocks keep moving further and further down, coming closer and closer to the end game, I have to pay attention. If I only have 68 balls, and the blocks on that level are set at 91, but there is a level above that is at 112 and 98, I have to evaluate the situation. Do I hit the 91? Or do I go for the 210 above it to get the blocks to a level I can handle on the way down so that I can eliminate them as they come along? DECISIONS, DECISIONS!!! Do I risk it? Should I hit the higher level that would, rules of physics say, would be eliminate the lower level because "what goes up, must come down"? Ugh!!
Kind of like when I know that I see something coming in the future and have to decide if I want to do something to avoid the consequences now or just deal with them when they come. Will I be able to handle them when they get here? Or should I avoid the heartache now before they even get here? Hmm.

Anyway, clearing a level might be the most addictive part!!!






It's freaking the GREATEST feeling!! And so addicting!! Because now, the next board shows and the next complex that is going to take so much time to figure out. And I love a freakin' challenge. I want to see it and see if I can figure out, based on the levels before, how I can beat it so I can see that "CLEAR!" sign again. Oh man. So competitive that I can't let this thing beat me.
Kind of like when getting to the other side of those situations in life feels. I made it to the other side and am ready for the next obstacle. Making it through one is so empowering, you wish a nigga WOULD give you another. Hmm.

Anyway, you know what sucks? Is having to spend DAYS on a level. Like, level 215. I spent SO MANY DAYS trying to get passed that one. It was so frustrating, I had to look up on YouTube how to beat it. And even so, I had to take that knowledge and apply it. Which trying to replicate someone's esle's situation on that level only told me how THEY did it! Fuck that dude on YouTube. YOU DON'T KNOW MY LIFE!! Maybe my thumbs are too fat to do that?! Sheesh. But I had to try, right? Why not. It worked for them. And I failed. Oh my hammy, I failed. A lot. I had to see this goddamn screen so many times, I almost made it my profile picture.

Fuck you, game!!
But what you gonna do? Quit? Or fucking pull your panties up and RETRY like a muthafucka! And that's what I did. Because I ain't gonna let no fucking app on a phone beat ME.
Kinda like when situations in life get you down. And you "fail". Fuck 'em. You learn not to do that again. I had to learn not to make the same break again. No to aim for the same block again. Go a different route. Or end up in this same position again. And so what? You "failed" again. Try again. You have endless lives in these situations - as long as you keep trying. It's when you quit that you REALLY fail.

Anyway. I'm on level 234 now with this stupid game and this app might take over my life. But it's so much fun!!! And Mrs.Black and Doc Parker MAY even be proud of me today because what I've learned about geometry and physics because of this stupid game. Ha. We'll see if they read this one day when they're searching for their shitty student who cheated during the whole year like a mexican.

Anyway. Just wanted to share this game with you guys.

Until next time.....