My apologies for my unexcused absence yesterday. Specifically, I’d like to apologize to you, faithful web visitors, but also to the good people at Lost and Frowned, my generous and supportive sponsors. I realize that it was indeed quite irresponsible of me to begin celebrating St. Patrick’s Day before I had tended to my blogging duties.
With that in mind, I would also like to apologize to my co-worker Ruth and my boss Mr. Napp at Big Screen Video. I had no business deceiving them by calling in sick, then going out drinking all day, and then showing up at the store and threatening them and the customers in a shirtless and sweaty manner.
I would like to express my regret as well to the staff and lunch customers at the Bennigan’s on Willis Avenue. I clearly was in the wrong when I threw my empty shotglass at the plasma screen TV and called the waitress an anorexic dildo pony. Clearly, I should have taken her advice and ordered some jumbo potato skins before drinking nine pints of Guiness and an equal number of Midori Shamrock Shooters. I get a bit sloppy when I drink on an empty stomach.
Apologies go out as well to the staff and patrons at Ruby’s Tavern on Crescent Street. I don’t know why I kicked all those holes in the plaster in your men’s room. I guess I was just upset that you cut me off. And while I’m at it, I’m sorry that I stole your fake fern. I would return it, but I’m not sure what happened to it. It may be on your roof.
Finally, I would like to express my sincerely apologies to the clerk at the Speedy Mart, the elderly gentlemen I assaulted on 4th Street, the small dog I pegged with an empty St. Ides can, the people I awakened at 3am with my a-cappella performance of Peter Frampton’s "Show Me The Way," and Mr. Limon, my building superintendent, who I’m sure was none to happy with the unfortunate incident involving me, the elevator, and my stomach contents.
To all of you, happy St. Patrick’s Day, and I’m sorry.
Pat Freestone
April 14, 2004
The thing about sitting back and smoking crack all day is that it really changes your perspective on things. Troubles in your past, or difficulties with your relationships, or even guilty feelings about your total lack of contribution to humanity seem to just melt away. Then, when they all return five minutes later, you can just melt them away again.
When I'm chasing the dragon, I like to keep a tall glass of water nearby. Smoking cocaine always makes me thirsty, and plus, if I accidentally set myself on fire, I can use it to extinguish the flames. But it's hard to tell sometimes if I'm actually on fire, or I'm just being paranoid. Because the rock will do that to you.
Party on,
Pat Freestone
April 15, 2004
Due to an unfortunate incident last night involving my illicit drug dealer, several Yonkers police officers, and a possibly fatal choke hold, I have been unable to refresh my depleted supply of crack cocaine.
So today, I plan on crawling around my apartment on all fours until I find a crack rock that is not really just a big crumb of parmesan cheese.
Is that one, there? No.
Damn you, discarded fragment of petrified pork rind!
April 27, 2004
Where am I?
This place...appears to be a hospital room...either that or a really strange hotel that offers complimentary breathing tubes and catheters?
So blurry? Where are my glasses?
I seem to be unable to move my left arm. My mouth is full of stitches. What happened? I’ve been unconscious? I hear a television.. I vaguely remember hearing something about Billy Joel and a car accident....oh, God--it hurts to smile!
Am I dead? What’s that smell? How did I type this?
So many questions!
April 28, 2004
I am definitely in a hospital room.
I can tell by the smell of butane and Pringles that Sonny is here with me today. I find some comfort in that. But I’m also suspicious that he’s just here to cop a little love off my morphine drip.
I’m assuming I’m in a coma, or perhaps just half-asleep and unable to move, see or speak. Based on overheard conversations and the occasional terrifying flashback, I have pieced together the following:
Someone beat the living shit out of me.
What is today? Wednesday? I had planned to spend today reorganizing the "Cult Classics" section at Big Screen, treating myself to lunch at Hunan Palace, and then perhaps stopping by Senior Pepe’s for a few drinks after work, but instead, I think I’ll just concentrate on making some sort of sound or movement to alert the staff that my diaper is full.
Feebly,
Pat Freestone
April 29, 2004
It all started as a simple misunderstanding between myself and a local crack cocaine retailer. Although the details remain somewhat fuzzy, I am absolutely certain that this merchant--“Mr. Q-Dog”, as he calls himself--was far more interested in turning a short term profit than in building long-term repeat business via quality customer care. Idiot!
I had been referred to Mr. Q-Dog’s place of business from a local “hipster” who assured me that Mr. Q-Dog stocked the sort of high-grade rock cocaine to which I am accustomed. After waiting for almost forty minutes in a dilapidated apartment vestibule, I was introduced to my new vendor. Subsequently, not only did he break the first rule of customer service by neither smiling nor making eye contact, but he also acted as though I was somehow wasting his time by asking for a list of references before making my purchase.
At some point we agreed to go ahead with the transaction--the sale of a “ten-piece,” for which I paid the asking price without haggling as a gesture of good faith. Upon inspection, however, I noticed that the vial contained not the rock cocaine I had paid for, but instead several broken shards of beige crayon. So, rather than go through the time-consuming process of returning the goods for a refund credit, writing a complaint letter, or contacting the local merchant’s association, I just grabbed a nearby length of re-bar and swung it at Q-Dog’s jaw with everything I had.
To be continued…
Pat Freestone
April 30, 2004
After beating my new ex-crack-dealer senseless with a rusted piece of steel, I recovered my ten dollars from his fanny pack and made my way home. I recall stopping at the corner to treat myself to a Puerto Rican sno-cone, as I had become quite parched during my ordeal. At some point, I noticed a trio of no-goodniks running toward me in a threatening manner, but given the unruliness of my surroundings, I paid them little mind. That was clearly a mistake.
Without so much as a how-do-you-do, the three baggily-dressed reprobates proceeded to attack me in broad daylight. One of them stabbed me in the stomach with a sharpened screwdriver, while the other two boxed me about the ears and forehead with what was--in my opinion--an undue amount of force. I managed to smash my sno-cone into the littlest one’s face--I’m sure much to his chagrin, for as soon as the other two had me on the ground the small fellow picked up a piece of concrete and began pounding me on the skull. Luckily, I was able to get a grip on one of his enormous trouser cuffs, pull him down to the ground, and then insert my thumb into his eye socket. He screeched like a little girl.
But that was about it for the Freestone offensive, for I would soon lose consciousness as Q-Dog’s mob of blindly loyal miscreants continued to flog and kick me mercilessly. I awoke here, in this hospital room, in this sad state.
I think I should have walked into that beautifully warm tunnel of light while I had the chance.
Pat Freestone
May 3, 2004
Once again, the cold hand of death has passed me by.
Shit--I mean, whew!
Since it looks like I won’t be getting out of this body cast any time soon, I figure it’s as good a time as any to tackle those 4500 megabytes of unanswered e-mails and queries from faithful web visitors like you. But rather than respond to each one personally, I have organized them into the first-ever
Pat Freestone’s FAQ!
So here we go!
Q: What is your ethnic background? A: I am mostly white, with a black heart. Ha, ha--gotcha! No, I’m a Caucasian.
Q: What is your astrological sign? A: Yes!
Q: What is your favorite reality show?
A: It’s hard to say--there are so many good ones out there. I like the ones with the bulimic chicks eating the yak balls for money.
Q: What is your perfect date? A: My perfect date would start with a visit to the freshly-dug gravesite of Maury Povich. Then, maybe a quiet dinner, perhaps a film. Then later…who knows!
Q: How come you never update your web site on weekends? A: Because I usually send my computer out to be cleaned on the weekends.
Check back tomorrow for more of
Pat Freestone’s FAQ!
Pat Freestone
May 4, 2004
Thanks for joining me for Day 2 of
Pat Freestone’s FAQ!
You ask--I dodge!
Q: Do you think Paris Hilton is hot? A: I’ve never stayed there, but I imagine they have air conditioning like any other luxury hotel would.
Q: I want to buy one of your t-shirts, but I can’t afford the minimum order of 1,000. What should I do? A: That’s easy. Just find 999 other cheap-ass people like yourself who appreciate good sarcasm and pool your funds.
Q: I am losing my hair. What can I do? A: Do what I do: accept it. Embrace it. And then spend the rest of your days figuring out a painless way to kill yourself and bring your lifetime of humiliation to an end.
Q: Why doesn’t your site contain any animation, video clips, or audio? A: Because I am a mean old scrooge who doesn’t like children. Because it’s a pain in the ass--that’s why. Come over here and offer to do all the coding for free and you can flash and dream weave Today Inside Pat Freestone Updated Almost Daily all fucking night. Make me dance. Put little fart noises in there. Quick-time my glasses into peep show windows. But for Christ’s sake, get off my back about it already.
Q: Who is Von Dutch? A: I would guess that he’s either a Hollywood action hero or the fellow who creates the drum beats for the Beastie Boys. I think he associates with that “Fubo” character.
Check back tomorrow for more of
Pat Freestone’s FAQ!
Pat Freestone
May 5, 2004
You wanted answers. I’m giving them to you anyway, here in
Pat Freestone’s FAQ!
Q: How come you never show any pictures of Clicky?
A: There is no simple answer. Oh wait, yes there is--he is scared of the flash.
Q: If you were stranded on a deserted island, what one book, record, and personal item would you want to have with you? A: Great question. For my one book, I would want Signal Fires --How and Why by Jurgen Heiser. For my personal object, I would request a WalMart. And for my one record…Led Zeppelin II.
Q: Do you think you will ever have kids? A: I certainly plan on it. I just need to get my hands on some boiling water, a few strips of sterile cloth, and a vagina.
Q: What is your favorite food and restaurant?
A: My favorite food is a burnt baked potato served dry with A1 steak sauce and six half-sour kosher dills on the side. As far as restaurants go, I frequent corporate chains like T.G.I.Friday’s and Outback Steak House. The food is delicious, reasonably priced, and if you injure yourself while on the premises, you can be certain that the liability insurance is up-to-date.
Q: How do you take your coffee? A: I like my coffee like I like my women. Q: Black? A: No. Weak.
See you,
Pat Freestone
May 6, 2004
Somewhere during the process of compiling
Pat Freestone’s FAQ,
I discovered a seldom-acknowledged counterpart to the widely accepted FAQ format. I call it the RAQ, or Rarely Asked Questions. That’s what we’re all about today, here on
Pat Freestone’s RAQ!
Q. Did you see that California Condor swoop down and grab that baby Panda? A: (not available)
Q: Hello, is this the Marriott Haiti? A: (unknown)
Q: Would you mind sort of keeping it down while I stab you in the gut and relieve you of your wallet and jewelry? A: (inaudible)
Q: Can you please stop grinding so hard on my groin area, Miss? A: (redundant)
Q: Is that the new American-made, solar-powered Nissan Pathfinder? A: (deleted)
Q: Why isn’t the referee putting a stop to this totally illegal steel chair assault on The Rock? A: (unclear)
Q: Are you going to eat the rest of that cum? A: (omitted)
Yours truly,
Pat Freestone
May 7, 2004
This week you’ve seen some of the most frequently asked questions that people like you frequently like to ask people like me. But these questions only reflect my life as an internet blogger. It wouldn’t be fair to leave out the real FAQs. The lifetime FAQs. The most FAQs of all time.
Pat Freestone’s Overall Lifetime Top Nine Frequently Asked Questions.
