Bandit and Jaz shoot some stick with the Roller Derby chick and hit the Jackpot!.........OR..........Here's to Yoga instructors and Islandic babes.

So tonight I met up with Jaz at the Jackpot. Maybe the coolest bar in Raleigh. We had a nice long talk about love, life and how the fuck I got here. Love life came up quite a bit. There ain't any going back in life folks. Though..............God.............some days I wish I could go back in time and change so many little things. Get my life in order maybe. I want that so badly.

So Jaz and I ended up shooting pool with this really cute, nose ringed tattooed chick who plays professional roller derby down here in Raleigh. Yes folks! Along with an obsession about NASCAR, they have Professional Roller Derby here. Well, this is where my competitive nature came in to play this evening.

I know many of you will find this shocking, but I am very competitive. I HATE TO FUCKING LOSE! At anything. Be it checkers, Risk (Not a good game to play with me, I am out for world domination and will be angry with you if I don't get it) Darts, and Pool. Well....Especially pool. I get this glow of hate in my eyes. A focus and determination to destroy you. (Please note that I said "destroy you" not "beat you" . I will fucking hate your ass for a moment if I lose.

When I was a kid I used to play basketball. C.Y.O. (note that this means "Catholic Youth Organization") league. I was a little terror. I used to poke kids in the ribs when they would try to back me down with the basketball. Hard, little jabs. I was thrown out of more than one game. Once I even cursed out a ref at the top of my lungs in front of my parents. I was a little fucking horror show. Imagine a ten/eleven year old kid cursing out an adult referee over a blow foul call....getting tee'd up and then pointing in the motherfucker's face and calling him a blind piece of shit. Of course I am writing about some other little punk. Not me. hahaha. Okay . It was me, but at least I didn't knock a kid out with an uppercut punch to the jaw like my buddy John did during one game when he didn't truly understand the meaning of "intentional foul".

Hell, I am so competitive that I once kneed my boss (this happened during a friendly game about three years ago) in the gut on the way up for a dunk. Not an accident folks, I intentionally went up for the dunk with my knee out and was going to fuck up anyone who got in my way. Boss included. Mind you, this was in the heat of battle. As soon as I came down and beat my chest a little bit I felt calmer. I also noticed that Mike was writhing on the floor holding his stomach. It was at this moment that I flew back home from the Testosterone and Penis Islands and realized that I could be fired by this man. "MIKE, I am so sorry, are you okay?!?" I wasn't sorry, I made the bucket and ended up winning. Fuck those that might get in my way.

I actually banned myself from sporting events at family gatherings. I get out of control. I want to take out my Uzi, pump all of the bitches full of lead to clear my path to the basket. I am talking about FAMILY here folks. I may have a problem. So I stopped playing after a "my cock is bigger than your cock"-basketballs being thrown at the head contest with my cousin Zack at a family reunion about 7 years ago. I have not picked up the ball ever again at a family gathering, except against Dave.

Now Dave and I are even worse against each other, but we laugh. We taunt. Tease. Poke. Push and I get mad, but he doesn't. I suspect sometimes that he wants to win as much as I. I have a jump shot though. (only slightly better than his)

So I hate to fucking lose. In life, business, love, money....godamn you and god help you if you get in my way. Its the way I play pool.

I shoot to win every godamned time. I will take a risky shot, if it means I can destroy you. I have only, EVER, let one person beat me at pool, it was hard as hell for me to do.

Jaz asked me tonight if I would ever lose a game to get some wang-dang-sweet-poontang. This was before Brandi (Rollerball girl) asked me if she could play against me. I told him that I would not let a pretty girl win a game of pool for the sake of getting some. I would help her with shot selection, even do that "Here, let me lean over you, hold you tight and help you aim this shot" dating thing......but I will fucking beat you in the end if it is at all possible. Something clicks in.

Okay, I am going to make a confession to the world here about the depths of my depravity.

I used to work for the NYC Board of Ed as Para-Educator. Think of it as a Para-medic who instead of saving lives, pumps some knowledge into 7-8 year old kids. It was fun for a time. Well, this one year we took the kids bowling. I was overseeing one group of kids and playing a game with them. So here I am trying to gutterball it every time and keeping it close. So I am in the last frame I am down, intentionally and this little girl starts jumping up and down screaming "I am going to beat Mr. Dowd! Yay!!!!" This kid is fucking excited. And I snapped. I was fully prepared to lose.Throw the game so she could have one of the great memories of her young life. What happened though. I heard that and BOOM!!!!!!! Strike! Take that kid. What? WHAT?!?!?! I am fucked up. hahaha. (Today, I have grown enough that I would let her win)

So tonight I am shooting pool and making time with this roller derby girl. Jaz was real cool about it, let me play the game with her and got out of the way. We're shooting, talking, having a good time and the motherfucker gets the digits while I am away. Fucker. Actually, it's not that I was so much interested in a tattooed babe who plays roller derby for a living, but I hate to lose. So Jaz got the digits. I beat her ass on the table. That's what I really cared about.Not looking for a relationship of any kind at this time in my life.

There is a crazy thing that happens to my eyes during competition also. Not crazy like Marty Feldman crazy, not "Yo that guy is loco" kind of crazy, just an intense stare. It's like when I was in Tae Kwon Do and was learning how to ball up all of my fighting energy into one point in my fist or kick. Intensity. I guess I am just a pretty intense guy. In all things. I like it that way.

Anyhow, it's almost two a.m. I am going to bed. I don't know if there was a point there.


My Favorite Toasts of the day-
"Here's to friends that aren't around" (This was the toast that Vella and I used the year that Ruby was living in Indonesia)
"Sun on your face, wind at your back"

"Here's to yoga instructors and Islandic babes"

And my favorite toast

"May the most that you want be the least that you get" (Jeff Hammonds taught me this one and I use it all the time. I love it. I miss Jeffy. Need to give him a ring)