When I Get Bored, I Get Thirsty

I had forgotten how much this little cluster of towns had to offer. Everything is so fucking close together! While that may seem like a bad thing, I think it's fucking awesome. Bergenline Avenue alone boasts a wide variety of South American cuisine. Seriously, I think every fucking country is represented. Incidentally, between that and my mother's cooking, I'm getting fat again. Correction: I'm getting FATTER again. I was already fat to begin with.

I had forgotten about the endless amount of dollar stores, mom and pop shops and bodegas, bodegas, bodegas! It's good to have options people. That's all I'm saying. However, for all of these options, there isn't a decent pub within spitting or pissing distance. Sure I can go to the Whiskey Bar, Black Bear, McSwiggins or any number of pubs in Hoboken but I must confess, I've gotten spoiled living in Little Ferry for so long. I miss having a bar that's literally right down the street. I'm not saying there aren't any around here in Union City but a majority of them aren't even pubs. OH! And some of them aren't even legitimate businesses. A tell-tale sign of that is when you're in a bar and it doesn't show up on any Google or Yelp business searches but you know for a fact it's been there over a year. Also, if there's a shitload of security for such a small space, either get the fuck out or take your chances.

Now, I know what you're thinking.

Mannix, Mannix! Why, oh why is drinking cold, draft beer at pubs your only form
of entertainment?!

The answer is simple: there aren't enough comic book stores, firing ranges, Brazilian Ju-Jitsu dojos or strip clubs around to keep my overactive attention span occupied. Ok well, actually there are but they're also ridiculously expensive either in one sitting or over time and, as much as I want to have fun, I must remember that I have to save money because I can't allow this whole "living at home" thing to become permanent, but I digress.

Actually, I don't know why I love pubs and bars so much other than the fact that I'm a tempered alcoholic. (I have to remember to coin that phrase.) However, having moved back to my old stomping grounds and having not only Hoboken but Manhatten all the more closer to me, I've been attempting to discover newer forms of entertainment. The problem is, well, I'll be damned if I know what I'm really passionate about. Let's go through the list:

• Beer
• Sex
• More Beer
• More Sex
• Comic books
• Video games
• Mixed Martial Arts
• Firearms

Hmm...maybe I should broaden my horizons before I start contemplating being passionate about something. Then again, I love doing the pub thing. Last night, in Elmwood Park, I visited my friend Jamie but as she was busy pouring drinks, I realized that I loved people watching and listening in on all manner of conversations both casual and slightly odd. I loved it.

So, while change is good and discovering new things would be a boon to my imagination, why should I stop doing what already makes me happy?

That being said, I'll see you at the pub!

Home Sweet Holy Moley!

Before I get started and go off on a tangent elaborating the title of this blog, a disclaimer is in order. Let it be known that I love my family. Be it nuclear or extended, blood is blood. Even when we argue, I know that when the shit hits the fan, I can always count on my family.

That being said, I must've been out of my mind when I decided to move back home! While it's convenient at the moment, I should've really thought out moving back home with not just my mother but my mother, sister and Goddaughter. Even if they weren't family, a single man, nay, any man, should think long and hard before moving into a house with three women. Why, you ask? If you shut up, I'll tell you. Ok. Women living together tend to drive each other bananas and if one isn't careful (And by "one" I mean "anyone with a penis who values his sanity"), one might get sucked into the maelstrom of illogical insanity that women seem to create out of nothing. Here I am, in a house with not just three women but three moms.

My mother loves having me home. Being her only son and the baby of the family to boot, I get doted on a lot. Much to the chagrin of my older sister. My sister loves that I'm home and can not only be a distraction to my mother but that I can also keep an eye on my Goddaughter. As for my "little mom," she pretty much runs my life and I think she's just happy to have me around. I missed her too so I'm just as excited to be living there for the majority of the summer. I'm having a blast so far. Oh! And did I fail to mention that I'm helping out with the rent, groceries, gas for the cars and the occasional payment of parking tickets that both my mother and sister seem to be magnets for? Hmmm...must've slipped my mind.

Anyway, I have to be careful. If I know them, they'll never kick me out and it's easy to get complacent when you have people who cook you meals and clean your clothes plus lend you their cars or give you rides everywhere. Incidentally, my mother's cooking alone has reminded me that I have to start working out even more rigorously. Add to that that my sister is always giving me a ride to wherever I need to go and I'm not burning calories anymore.

Chief among the reasons I have to leave is the fights. When women fight, they can fight! It's usually fierce and it's enough to drive one crazy. Moreover, they make a man long for the peace and sometimes quiet of a bachelor pad; a man-cave, if you will. And lest we forget, I may want to get laid sometime this year... or decade.

So, I'm definitely moving out as soon as I can. I might even start looking for an apartment soon too! Well, maybe after I get out of work, go eat breakfast and take a nap at home. Yeah! I'm definitely finding my own place...eventually. Maybe. I hope.