Trump Implements Expensive Tax Reform In Honor Of “Go Bills!” Season Home Opener 2017

Fiction, News, Sport

President Trump gave a speech in North Dakota on September 6 in which he called for cuts to business and individual taxes, claiming falsely that the U.S. is “the highest-taxed nation in the world” (it is near the middle of the pack for developed nations, measured by taxes paid per person and share of GDP spent on taxes).

However, off-the-air interviews report after this speech,  it had totally slipped Trump’s mind that the NFL Season Opener was that upcoming weekend and he wanted to do something special in honor of his “Go Bills!” pride.

So how ’bout we keep the highest-taxed nation of the world the way it is for a little why longer?

Trump also disclosed (off the record) that he believes Sammy Watkins “was just such a disgrace” and it was “good riddance” to have him traded for merely nothing.

After this decision, American taxes are gonna be super expensive starting this weekend, y’all.



Tobey Maguire Is An Evil Ploy Schemed By Free Masonry To Take Over Hollywood!

Fiction, News

Tobey Maguire was a guy… OR YOU THOUGHT HE WAS A GUY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This video is the start to my THE ZAKK SHOW releasing ONE NEW VIDEO EVERY SUNDAY! It’s exciting you know… because I’m beginning you off with some real heavy shit here.


This is a good soundtrack to a video, you’re right. But with no harm or offense being brought to Tobey here in anyway… seriously. ‘Cause like, I watched this other video on the TubeYouer about these two guys writing mean reviews about Tobey on his OWN WEBSITE and Tobey was all pissed and came to murder those two guys. That’s frightening shit man, I don’t think I could afford that in this point of my life right now.
But I CAN afford a funny video that will MAKE YOU SMILE while at the same time EXPOSING REAL TRUTHS not necessarily about REAL GHOSTS NEVER BEFORE SEEN but it’s a story you should most definitely enjoy.



THAT’S HIP DADDAYYYYYY! So don’t forget. eh?
ONE NEVER VIDEO brought to you courtesy of THE ZAKK SHOW and you can depend on it on YOUTUBE SLASH ZAKK STELMACH.


The First Four Minutes And Fifty-Four Seconds Of This College Film Is What Every Movie Nowadays Should Be And Will Blow Your Mind!!!!


Films today are all bark and no bite, man.
You have three-hundred-million dollars being spent on Mark Ruffalo being green and jacked and presenting his violence with a comedic wit against his Avenger chums but in the end, what does it all mean? Before Mark had to be chromo-keyed to a green shade, wasn’t he just a disheveled-bearded dude in front of a green screen? Why do we the people have to pay for this? Can’t we just go back to the good old days of  your stoner dad slapping a big slab of raw meat hanging from the rafters of his homemade studio attic?

One of the most underrated visionaries of our time in the sense of film directing, Derrick Glen shows you that real art still exists, dude. His first short film, not many people know was actually a college project (handed in on time, I might add… he got a 98.3%).

Killer Custodian_title

Ahead of it’s time, brao.


my eyelids feel like sandbags, dude.

Starting with the agonizing hours of video footage rendering, it almost feels as if time is going backwards for Zakk as his pending doom lurks in the shadows.


Always drag someone with your back at a 90 degree angle so you don’t injure yourself

You know, it’s a hard job being a custodian so that’s why I feel this film is so relative to anyone’s everyday life. The stress of always cleaning up someone else’s mess can probably really get to you… I mean, I was never ever a janitor but I’d imagine it would suck. So like, hence why this KILLER CUSTODIAN knocks me out and drags me into his evil lair of an utilities closet. And then what does Zakk find … ?




Never has a wretched hive of scum and villainy imposed such carnage as going as far as killing Dave before Zakk! I couldn’t imagine the circumstances that occured when janitor man confronted Dave but I’m sure it was truly horrific. The look of fear as we had to say to our sweet prince of David Campbell.


Just look at those clean surroundings, you could tell the handy work of a janitor

Just look at those clean surroundings, you could tell the handy work of a janitor

But I’m all like “No way man am I going to let that Cleaning Clancy ™ store me with his  well-organized cleaning supplies perfectly labeled by WHMIS standards!” You know, so I bust through the roof and I shimmy my way to what I think is going to be my escape. But then KILLER CUSTODIAN’s itinerary indicates otherwise! ee-arr-ay-arr-why?


The shocking expressions that were on the faces of the teachers that had to mark this, as a man’s heart was wrenched out of his chest. Or at least with enough crafty-made decoys gave you the impression of that. The pale look of desperation on Zakk’s face as blood cascades from his mouth like an overflowed bathtub when you forget the faucet is still running. Never has a college audience been so repulsed and offended by the cow heart we bought from the local supermarket was disguised as my own. We did not harm the actual cow though, we bought it from the corner of Third and Bellcrest.

"I hope Three's Company is on tonight."

“I hope Three’s Company is on tonight.”

If you dare watch this almost-five-minute video, don’t watch it with your children or parents. This perfectly-edited masterpiece should be on IMDB but this underrated talent is not meant for the simpleton. This is not your grandaddy’s film, this is a cinematic imagination beyond your brain. It’s like unicorns and rainbows man but with hearts being ripped out.

HIP STAR Promotes New Awesome Shirts To Compete With Other Athletes’ Black And White OFFICIAL MERCHANDISE T-Shirts


Chael Sonnen, Brock Lesnar, The Great Baba.

Legends have been made and now everybody craves that drive to build themselves stronger. WHO CAN BLAME THEM AMIRIGGGGHTTT!
But stay relevant if you are going to promote yourself, son. And we all know that in 2014 there is nothing more relevant than promoting your own self-merchandised black and white T-shirts!

Join the HIP STAR revolution today as somehow gimmicks sell and so does Zakk Atticus in 2014!
You can choose from an EXCITING COLLECTION of well-thought, witty AWESOME MERCHANDISE that you are able to purchase at any Zakk-Atticus-related event near you.
Or whenever he gets a .COM domain and you can like, PayPal him or some stuff.




Seeing as THE INTERNET seems to be my 2nd job, I don’t see what’s stopping me from making many, MANY more of these wonderful OFFICIAL MERCHANDISE CHEAP COOL T-SHIRTS !!!!!

Stay True, Hip Star Believers.


50 Things The Statue Of Liberty Would Be Holding If She Were Built In 2014


Back in 1886, The French were all like “Let’s give d’ose Americyens a present” but like, what if they ended up  sitting on the idea for a couple few decades and built it today… what kind of bananigans would Lady Liberty be holding in her hand and why? I decided to go straight to the source.

1. An iPhone 

She must take the best selfies.

She must take the best selfies.

2. A Big Mac

Maybe she sold out.

Maybe she sold out.

3. Her Legal Rights

She's been waiting for her growing license for years.

She’s been waiting for her growing license for years.

4. A Bacon Cake

Because if there is one thing we have learned over time, it is to utilize our bacon strategically.

Because if there is one thing we have learned over time, it is to utilize our bacon strategically.

5. A SuperBowl Foam Finger







The News Runs Out Of News So They Make Something Up About Rob Ford


It’s been a busy few weeks for that wretched hive of scum and villainy, The Media. Don’t you think?
R.I.P. PSH everyone should watch Jack Goes Boating and Mary & Max. There was also some Super Bowl festivity of football where the spelling of ‘Payton Monning’ could have more than one meaning. And I don’t know, that thing that happened last past week with that girl and that guy on television. Pop culture, yeahhhhh!

This week however was a struggle to most of those successul news outlets. While some goombah from Buzzfeed was smoking mescaline and making up some article like “37 Best Ways Not To Drown While Under Water”, the taken-seriously media sites were scratching their thinking caps with ideas.

One hard-working gal from CNN was like “I’ll make the effort to go interview the president?” but they were all like “Nahhh, that’s not news, dawg!”

So just when The Media was about to shut down in it’s entirety, a lightbulb struck all of them at once.
“Let’s just make up some quotes about that disastrous mayor we’re all loving to hate!” was the general consensus.
The idea was hurrah’d by all and followed with a mutual jumping in the air and fist pumping. These journalists knew they could have the rest of the day off after they just wrote a small general article containing some hurtful words that a man in a Mayor’s position should normally not be saying.

The Huffington Post hipsters were happy, as they just wrote “Rob Ford Is A Mean Dude, dude” and quickly retreated back to their bongs.

The higher paid journalists over at CNN put their efforts in high gear and simply took the meanest quotes of all time, made them more relevant and quoted them in Ford’s honor.
Like that time, Adolf Hitler was like “the personification of the devil as the symbol of all evil assumes the living shape of the Jew” but to make it more modern, they rewrote it something along the lines of “The devil is any skin color that isn’t my droopy white skin shade”.
Because who really remembers history anyways?
Or they just straight-up stole a quote from Drake and said Rob Ford said the exact same thing “Yeah and lately I do bitches the meanest. Tell ’em I love them and don’t ever mean it.” You hurtful player, Mr. Ford.

Buzzfeed just wrote some nonsense containing a headline of “67 Reasons Rob Ford Hates His Mother”… because all the other obscure numbers for lists were taken.

Other people quoted Ford to say “And truth be told, I’m not a big fan of the black people” which little did the readers know, was already a quote from a Kurt Angle WWE promo. Rob Ford has been rumored to be a wrestling fan though, so who knows!

After all of this hooplah, we are safe to say that The Media is back on track to taking the smallest of things and blowing bigger than it’s proportion so it can be considered “News”. It’s their job too, you guys.

If what got me food on the table everyday was a quota of stories I just had to make up to get your attention, I’d sure as hell kill at that 9-5! And boy, am I trying!
Hashtag Hire Me CNN

– ZS

Birthday 24: Things I Am Good At


By far, the most unenthusiastic I have ever acted towards a birthday. What a dumpster truck I am acting like.
Dad was looking forward all week to the dinner reservations he made at a restaurant in Buffalo for my big day of. And I respond with such an unappreciative tone.
I mean, I look forward to it. Who doesn’t appreciate a free dinner dedicated to the day of you? I just feel so worthless on the actual day, though. My excuse: I want to celebrate something I can feel I deserve to be rewarded with. Ugh, I really don’t want to jumble you with an over abundance of hipster jumble BUT what’s the point of celebrating a day that was supposed to be for the purpose of you when even you can’t appreciate you?
I am 24. I am not sad and I am not using depression as an excuse. But I do feel worthless. I attended college like I was told to and still have nothing to show for it. I don’t have that satisfying job I assumed I would get right away. I know I have the potential but I AM JUST NOT HAPPY WITH ME RIGHT NOW.
Happy birthday to me but I would be a lot more satisfied on a day of ultimate celebracy. My first project published. My first dream goal crossed off. Hell, my first child born. THAT is a day you should take me out and buy me everything.
I feel having a day dedicated to appreciating any of that is only limiting what you are capable of. No? Maybe not.
It’s depressing. Getting to your own personal Christmas and you’re ashamed the day has come.
Because on my birthday, what am I thinking of? I am thinking of the year I just experienced and what I have to show for everything I have done up to this point.
There is bound to be one item mentioned that does not please you. Mine, I have multiple mentions.
What am I waiting for? Seriously, why am I still fighting for the low list of jobs? Why don’t I have a lot more appreciation now that I feel I should have?
Why am I letting all of that effect my mood?

So I am sorry for feeling sorry for myself. So I thought I would make up a list of things I am good at. For my readers, to be seen as self gloating. To me, I appreciate that I made the effort to construct this list.

– improv puns
– pouring pints
– advice giving
– finding the humor in situations
– watching football
– conversation on first dates
– constructing mixtapes for people
– usually always late for everything
– driving
– handstands
– forgetting names
– entertaining when the time calls for it
– pleasing waiters and waitresses
– tipping
– balancing a tray of glasses with one hand
– using my creative intellect to improve everything ever
– making lists

That is a shortly-thought out list of skills I should be appreciative of. Ok maybe not be forgetting names or the always being late.
But I think I forget too often why exactly I am great.
We might all do that.
And maybe we should all the take the time to feel sorry for ourselves and write these lists.
Because if we don’t say it, we may not the the privilege of someone else pointing it out.
And I am ultimately scared that we may live to never see the good in ourselves.

I Love You, Parking Garage Woman

Alan’s ideal woman had similar characteristics to Sailor Jupiter. Some would say the two were almost a perfect match. Some would say Alan’s ideal woman was Sailor Jupiter.
Tall, long brown hair, big green eyes, rose earrings.
Alan obviously couldn’t go around and ask his friends to set him up with Sailor Jupiter. He realized somewhere after his recent twentieth birthday that he would have to accept that this specially requested fantasy woman would have to come to him (if she was really out there).
Not the least bit feminine and physically overpowers bullies.
Up to then, he had never ran into or ever come to any association of meeting this woman.
But then there was this one time.
Finding a consistent job is hard enough, never mind building the energy to stand on your feet all day. Lucky that the local indoor water park was hiring burg cooks. Just when luck almost runs out, it’s funny how life can suddenly become so… slippery?
The parking garage underneath the water park was a spirally hell to drive through. Alan had the employee parking space all the way on the seventh floor. It would take as long to get to the top floor as it did to actually drive there from his house.
The parking garage is where he would always see his Sailor Jupiter. Their schedules were such opposites. She would be leaving every time he would be arriving. He didn’t even know what floor she worked on. Or what her job even was.
All he knew was that she looked fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.
She kept her bright yellow Sunfire as a sidekick charm. It looked great on her.
And she looked even cooler with her large shmancy bug eye glasses that covered half of her face.
She never smiled at him as they drove by. Maybe she was focused on always looking intimidating.
The more times Alan would drive by her, he would become more and more comfortable to make a motion to greeting her.
She never seemed to make the effort to acknowledge him. She was usually just leaving from a shift, so maybe she was too distracted in her freedom.
She probably didn’t have a clue Alan existed, he would consider.
And then they finally met but under the worst conditions.
Alan got miserably comfortable flipping burgers at the water park. It took him a good effort of a forty five minutes to drive to his job.
One day Alan waited ten minutes before his start time to leave his house. Weed and procrastination will do that to anybody. Besides, he HAD to see the winner of the Showcase Showdown.
He sped his Toyota Corolla faster then the locomotive was capable of handling. Hub caps were to be ignored, road laws were to go unacknowledged, jerkhole driving was to be encouraged.
As soon as he entered that parking garage, no consideration for what lie around that blind corner was given.
And that was exactly the moment when he crashed front bumper with his Sailor Jupiter.
The first thought he had when he heard that blundering contact was what would be the first thing he would say to her.
And then it struck his thought processes, “This is my chance to make my move”.
Sailor Jupiter whipped out of her door with a can of whoop ass kicking in her back pocket, prepared for opening.
“What the fuck, nerd?” she thundered out at him, storming around to the front of the car to inspect the damage.
Alan didn’t know what he deserved to have the nerd title shouted at him. Maybe it was the green Power Ranger action figure hanging from his rear-view mirror.
“S-sorry about that” Alan stuttered.
She squatted her legs and shook her hands in the air, “What am I going to do!”
Alan stretched his upper torso out his door but was scared to approach her. So he leaned his left arm on the top of the driver’s door.
“What’s your name?” Alan suavely imitated all those cool jazzy movies from the 50’s. He wished he was wearing a fedora.
She remained focused on the scratch and obvious dent that laid on her hood.
“My yellow honey”, she consoled with her car. She mournfully leaned over the hood and made the motion of hugging it. She didn’t hug it long, seeing as it was just running and probably a bit hot.
 Alan needed to act fast because she was being distracted. He had to say something that would get her attention.
“Maybe I could make it up to you.. tonight?”, Alan laid out the date invitation like the futon in his mother’s basement.
She immediately snapped her attention back on Alan. She took many fast steps toward him and sprawled out her finger nails like claws ready to attack.
“Listen her you little ass jacket,” she began on him with the uniquest choice of name calling “You’re going to pay for that scratch.”
Alan’s offer sure did do the job of getting her attention.
“Oh, oh of course I will” Alan tried to recover his conversation control footing. “Maybe I could take you out for dinner while I’m at it?”
Sailor Jupiter violently shoved Alan, forcing him backwards and losing his door lean.
 “You fucking fuck!” she screams, while storming back to her car. Her high heels clicking louder as she steps further away.
Alan was devastated. He didn’t know where his invitations had gone wrong. As soon as the crash happened, he instantly fantasized of how excellent he would handle the situation and how much he would impress her. His heart sank and his stomach instantly emptied. Allen went with the desperateness felt in his stomach and did the first thing that came to mind.
Alan threw his hands up in the air and screamed to the top of his lungs, “I LOVE YOU, SAILOR JUPITERRRRRRR!!”
Sailor Jupiter aggressively put her yellow Sunfire into ‘Drive’ and ran straight into Alan’s Corolla. She reversed quickly and peels back around the corner. Her car’s screeches echo throughout the parking garage like a rhythmic beat to the sinking of Alan’s heart.
That was the worst day of work Alan had ever had. Alan requested a schedule change instantly. A methodical way of avoiding the iron while it was still hot.
Weeks went and though Alan hated night shifts, had avoided driving into Sailor Jupiter. Alan was heartbroken but was satisfied with how he was handling it.
Then one morning while waiting for a red light on a busy four-way, he drives up beside a yellow Sunfire with his Sailor Jupiter in the driver’s seat. He awkwardly stops symmetrically beside her.
Sailor Jupiter turns her head and studies Alan’s face.
Just when Alan thought she was about to roll down her window and throw some more f-bombs his way, she surprises him one more time. Sailor Jupiter’s face grows familiar and throws Alan the first smile he had ever seen on her.
Alan darts his head forward and ignores her notion. It threw him off too much.
Then from the corner of his eyes, he spots the grungiest pair of women Alan had ever seen.
By grungy, their jeans were ripped, their haircuts were wildly uneven and their face was caked with metal and black paint. Alan had never said a word to characters of their type.
In their hands held a sign that simply read “The Big City” (in Canada).
That would be Toronto. Alan in the instantaneous moment of three seconds makes an entire motion picture in his head.
He imagines lights and endless amounts of attention. He imagines a new, unpredictable life outside of his mother’s basement. He imagines a life where he sold his Corolla for money and never experiences a ride through a parking garage again. He imagines a life with a real Sailor Jupiter, the one that can appreciate him for who he is. And how he drives.
Then the light turned green and the cars in front of him slowly starting moving forward.
He had a choice to make.
Pick up those bad haircutted hippies and ditch the water park.
Or wave back to Sailor Jupiter.
The water park would be pretty mad, was a thought that crossed Alan’s brain. So he continued with the traffic and drove forward.
He noticed to his left, Jupiter’s yellow Sunfire slowed down as she was focusing on reaching for something in her purse. This left a large gap in front of her Sunfire and a big open lane spot that shouted “Opportunity” to Alan.
Alan proved everyone wrong that tried to make him a stereotype. By making one unpredictable action that he would never do and/ or do again.
Alan swerves his car left and speeds in front of the yellow Sunfire.
This got Jupiter’s attention and forced her to slam on her car’s brakes.
Alan disobeyed all of the driving rules by cutting off every single car in every single lane.
He drove his car over the street corner curb and the Hippie Chicks got inside.
And Alan drove towards The Big City (In Canada) on a quarter tank of gas and seven bucks in change in his car’s cupholder.

The First Stage Of Love

This was the first day I was going to meet Alice. Yeah, I met her on a dating website. My last breakup was an absolute disaster and left me feeling as hopeless as… ugh. So obviously when I thought my connections to meeting someone new were killed, I put my real name up on one of those Match Fish sites.
And then Alice messaged me. Demeaning my manliness for a girl to message me first, but honestly I did not see her profile. It was like she purposely hid so she could strike guys out of nowhere and press even harder with her hot iron (for whatever that means).
After chatting and matching everything in common, I set a date.
I met Alice on a cool Wednesday night in March. The wind was chilly but the air was a lot hotter for that time of the season. You could wear shorts and shiver occasionally only when the gust blew in your direction.
Walking speedily down St. Paul Street, she galloped towards me. Her enthusiasm to meeting someone for the first time taking me by surprise.
She wore a beautifully colored summer dress with a jean jacket over top and… running shoes?
Maybe she was working on a new fashion. Or maybe she was one of those isolato types. Either or, she had my attention.
We talked for what seemed like years. Everything was in common and every topic was covered. Our families, our friends, our recent experiences with school, just how much we hated high school, our views on religion and just when the transition was suave enough, our past love experiences.
I knew this girl was special and the way she looked only had me motivated to do something special for her.
Probably a mistake on my part and the fact that I wasn’t very good at being funny on stage should have refrained me from asking.
“Want to go to a comedy show?” I asked her after our third pint.
“Where? Who’s playing?” she was caught off-guard just as I had planned.
“Me” I purposely looked away from her.
She had no choice but to be impressed and asked my permission to bring a friend with her who was conveniently in the area.
Daphne was as gorgeous as Alice and made for quite the good wingman to try and impress. That and she had an infectious laugh that only made everyone else in the bar laugh along with.
Yeah, my set wasn’t very good and untimely planned. But it was cute. The fact that Alice probably did not expect my show-off-ness probably helped my starter points.
Daphne even drunkenly fell in love with the comedy host. Which was as well untimely planned, as her boyfriend just proposed to her the night before. Don’t tell him that, though.
On the fortunate side, Alice right away met some of my good friends. Charlie my comedian accomplice and Barry my talented musician friend who was also excited to be at his first comedy show. They had driven me to the date and given me my space to work my first date magic. Like friends.
After confessing to my embarrassment and Alice repetitively assuring me that my set was funny, we took in many pints of beer. Tiny girl who tried to keep up with me on her beer. Unlikely but impressively attractive.
10 p.m. the comedy show ended but the misfit gang was not done for their Wednesday night.
We walked down the Mansion House where Funk Night still energetically existed (rest in peace). The covers of everything we knew and the dance moves that impressed all. Alice was a great dancer and a well-matched partner.
Shit, it was March and the week before was cold so I thought it would be appropriate to wear wool socks as I usually do when it’s cold out. I did not expect the air to be so warm. Aaaaand I bought new shoes that morning. My fear that a really odd mix of smells caused my dancing sweat would be detected. How long could I pull off a “it wasn’t me”?
Charlie and Barry found some girls of their own so I was happy that they could be occupied while my drunken love was blatantly floating in Alice’s direction.
Then around the midnight hour, she had to leave.
“I would love to stay with you longer but I have to work early in the morning” was her understandable reasoning.
So like a gentleman, I walked her home. I ran back to Charlie and Barry to assure them that I would be back and that I would still need that ride home. I did ride with them there so that wasn’t an unreasonable request.
Through the park late at night, she could have felt vulnerable. But just as her dating website had ordered, she had me. I kept my arm around her and she was wooed by the unbearable romance.
The first kiss came amazingly. I couldn’t  have delivered on better timing.
And probably that second, we were rolling around the grass and staining our clothing. We were more focused on how great of heat-of-the-moment maker-outters we were.
I was on top of her then we would decourously barrel roll so she was on top of me. She was a great kisser but she also had a greatly matched dancing partner.
And then with a howling laugh of hilarity, we looked in our eyes and expressed how grateful we were to meet each other.
Drunk off how simple it was to relate to a beautiful stranger, I ran as fast as I could back to the bar.
I get to the Mansion House and the crowd that was there before was cut in half. That included Charlie and Barry. Great, where had my ride gone?
A quick investigational phone call concluded that they followed their penises and went home with the girls. Like friends.
What was I to do now? It was too late for buses. I was too broke for cabs. So I called Alice.
“Hey, I am sooo sorry. My friends took off on me and I don’t have a ride home. What should I do?” I explained in desperation.
“You can come sleep here” her response couldn’t have been more perfect.
Just when I thought that rolling in the park making out wouldn’t continue as soon as I wanted it to, it did.
She took me to her house and let me sleep in her single bed.
We laughed at how irrational our behavior was for two people that had just met. We talked more, drank milk like healthy consented adults and she respectively refused to sleep with me.
I loved that.
I explained to her about my wool socks, the unexpected weather and my impulse that early morning to buy new shoes. I apologized for my smelly feet. She gave me a pair of her pink socks to wear.
I loved that, too.
The next morning, we called in to work sick… together. She took me to an odd thrift shop I had never been to before and I bought such a cool Velvet Underground t-shirt.
I couldn’t ask for a better first meeting.
We were the perfect strangers together.
(Ouch, sorry for the cliche bomb there).
~ We all recognize that the first steps of dating someone are always the most exciting. Getting to know somebody you find so fascinating, disregarding any flaws or just not knowing about them. Everything is new, everything is fresh. Characteristics are revealed that you never thought existed inside of you. We all have at least a small bit of hopeless romantic in us. This is my effort of bringing these stories together and expressing just how magical first impression love can be between two people.

Girlfriend For A Week


Ben didn’t have much going on this week.
No job to tend to because he lost that last week.
No fancy social appointments. No special meals scheduled. No love to plan a date.
Not even the pet rabbit was around because the ex had this week’s shift.
All he had was this damn Volvo wagon (something’s rattling in the front tire).

Maybe he would watch some television, though.

Mondays are empty. Though Ben did search for some jobs online, ate a kielbasa sandwich and wrote a really catchy song on his ukulele that you would totally dig.
He was supposed to take the car to get the rattling checked out but he didn’t really have the money for the gas to get there. Nor did he have anything to pay the car guy.
So he watched the first two Rambos instead. Ben fell asleep at some part where Rambo was running in the jungle.
That was an odd dream about his grandmother at the public pool, though.

Tuesdays usually pick up a bit faster, only if Ben actually made plans to be eventful.
“Everybody has a slow Tuesday,” a wise man once told him.
He watched his morning Price Is Right (which he NEVER got to watch before with his pesky job), ate a delicious bacon wrap and practiced his golf swing on the front lawn.
His mother then told him to get a job and move out of her basement.

That night, Ben had a terrible sleep. Fidgeting and twitching regularly, coated in a body tan of sleep sweat and shaking so hard it awoke him at four in the morning.
He downed a shot of Baileys accompanied by a warm glass of milk and went back to lay in his thoughts.

“Hey, it’s Leslie”, read an unexpected text message. Ben looked at his phone, puzzled.
Leslie Who? That bartender from Chilly’s? It was all coming to him now.

He remembered going to Chilly’s the weekend before with his best friend, Roger. Ben met a cheerful, full of life pretty young thing by the name of Leslie Disher. She was an energetic bartender with a hard-not-to-stare movement accompanied by an even more addicting smile.
“The Dish!” Ben would nickname her never to her face.

Leslie already knew Roger which made an easy introduction for Ben.
Though Roger was in no spirit for infatuation. Roger was bummed. Like all of us can fall in the habit of doing, Roger just left from a relationship with the devil. Now all he had to talk about was how much of a headache she had given him and how he was grateful that she was (hopefully) out of his life. Leslie was cousins with this said devil woman and apparently shared a close relationship, which did not make for a good description from Roger. But their relation wasn’t developed from the same womb so Leslie couldn’t have been as crazy as Roger described her cousin, right?

Ben drank a bit much that night but not with his unemployed wage.
“What do you mean fifty dollar bar tab?”, Roger exclaimed.

Ben even gave Leslie a business card before he left, though. Now she had his number… score.

Ahhhh yes, that Leslie.

Ben looked at the clock to have it shout 5 o’clock back at him. A little late to still be up but bar hours could do that to you. Maybe she worked tonight and still had the bar sprint jitters. Ben impulsively had to jump on an invitation to see her.

He ran to his Volvo wagon on to pick her up. Leslie was hammeredly intoxicated when he arrived. She explained that she did not work that night so her excuse for being up so late was a party abundance at a friend’s birthday party. She was a champion drinker and Ben had no choice but to respect that.
Leslie explained that her roommate was obviously still sleeping and she considerably did not want to hooligan the house and wake him up.
So Ben drove them to a dead end road and sketchily parked in front of a neighborhood of houses, where the two of them smoked jazz cigarettes, drank blues pops and talked storms away. They shared a friendly collection of eye contact and maniacal laughing to the ridiculous ideas they had in common for their morning breakfast. He had to drive her back to the house so she could pick up more beers, too. Just for them to drive back five minutes later and park in the same spot to sit there and do the same things they were just doing. Any people looking from their house were undoubtedly concerned.
Leslie even played Ben a song by Phoenix he had surprisingly never heard before. So she’s into good music… score.

Leslie took Ben back to her house at 8 a.m. when the roommate had left for his job. Leslie’s story about the house she lived in didn’t really make sense to Ben and this only intrigued his suspicion.
She lived in a nice house in a quiet town. A welcoming sitting room, tidy kitchen, and a beautiful den with large televisions. They even shared a dog. The only room she didn’t show Ben was the bedrooms. He made some jokes about her being secretly married. She told him that her roommate and her were best friends since grade school and he was engaged to another girl, leaving Leslie single… score.
9 a.m. of more unsober conversation had triggered tiredness. Ben offered to bring her some b&e (bacon & eggs) after she had napped and she joyously accepted. Ben politely found his way out and drove home. He didn’t think to make a move to kiss her. These were still the beginning stages of admiring somebody. In his beatdown car or in her house while her hyper dog was present wasn’t the most convenient of opportunities, anyways. And she was hammered.

Wednesdays are always an optimistic day. Ben was full of life and still high on the experience of being high and drunk at early morning hours. He just had to tell everyone about his morning.
Yes that hot bartender from Chilly’s, The Dish!
He got a phone call saying that he had a job interview in an hour and they were wondering if he was still coming in. Ben saw it was noon and seeing that he was up four hours ago getting intoxicated, he politely rescheduled for next week and took a nap.

When he awoke, he was greeted by a series of cheerful messages. Like a couple still high on their first month of dating and not yet finding reasons to hating one another. She was funny and filled with jokes for someone who was up all night drinking. She also forgot her wallet in Ben’s car and asked him to bring it to her work that night.
“I’ll buy you a drink”, she bargained with him.
Ben distinctively remembered her strapping her purse around her chest when she left his car. Ben could not understand why her purse and wallet would be separated. The most realistic answer would be to blame it on her state of drunk.
Or maybe it was all part of Leslie’s plan to see him again? Ben fantasized to think so.
Ben and Roger went for a drink to Chilly’s, where Ben personally delivered Leslie’s wallet (which had her banana lighter in it which she also forgot).
She was friendly to see him but not as conversational as she was that morning. Work can kill a buzz like that, probably. Ben drank his bev, gracefully wished her a good rest of night and ordered to message her later.
He then went home and fell in love with her Facebook pictures.

Thursdays always look to have high hopes.
He wakes up to text Leslie a good morning but doesn’t get a response until three hours later. They arrange to go get lunch.
Ben drives her to a little dive with a great menu selection. She smokes him a joint on the way there, insists on paying for his hamburger and encourages a second on the beer. This girl was delightful.
She then had the nerve to challenge him to a game of pool. Leslie won the first but Ben got his revenge… though she sank the 8 ball. It was time for her to start her bar shift, so he accompanied her with a round of coffees and adieued her in gentleman fashion.

He felt the need to continuously text her through her shifts. Saying encouraging comments like “you look great today” and “keep up the good work”. She asked him questions as to what the name of the place they earlier ate was called, which meant she must have been telling others about their date. Ben took that as a good sign, too.
He then had a dream about swimming cows in an above-ground pool.
She tried calling him at 5 a.m. again but he was distracted with cattle in swimwear.

Fridays are the best day of the week. Everything is cheerful and society is full of compliments. Leslie doesn’t answer his morning text until 3:30 p.m. It was the kind of day for a barbecue so he hand-rolled a bundle of deliciousness in a meatball, grilled it up and delivered it to her.
The two sat in her kitchen, as Ben makes an effort to give the dog attention. The dog just probably wants to bite his arm off. She held a glitter in her eyes at the burger gesture, as she quickly ate the plate. He ate his already so spent the time making sarcastic comments about how nice it was to watch her eat.
She bought him rounds at a holey bar Ben never thought he saw himself going to. It reminded him of a B Network sitcom.
There was a Spanish man getting himself drunk in the far, dark corner. He was speaking in Spanish but with his phone closed in his hand and no bluetooth in his ear. He confronted Leslie and Ben for what he addressed as a couple and wished many good lucks to. He entitled the two as “very attractive people”, most accordingly to the fine looking lady.
He insisted on buying a round and the couple gulped their liquor cups quickly. They hurried out of the hole, as the bartender greeted them a goodbye. More importantly giving Ben a stiff handshake with an attentive eye contact and saying “take care of her”.
What was she telling everyone?

She had some time to kill before work so they threw around the football in the park. Then ran down the street to indeed another sketchy bar, Wrapper’s and played shuffleboard.
They were adventuring now… score.
Despite her again calling him at 5a.m. asking for a ride from work, he was nothing but excited for what could be a new relationship.
He drove her home, smoke a J and smilingly wished her a good night. He didn’t need to kiss her because they already felt like they had something between the two of them.
He couldn’t wait to see what more surprises she had to show him.

Saturdays are meant to be special.
Leslie made it clear that she was excitedly awaiting her day-off. She invited him over later that night to drink with her roomates (now added was yet another guy into this mysterious party house).
She revealed to him a rather curious message earlier in the day. Leslie explained to Ben that her roommate that was engaged to get married was scheduled to get married on this day… though they canceled the arrangements a month ago.
She explained that that’s why she didn’t bring Ben around the house because she wanted to avoid any weird vibes and maybe didn’t think flaunting a boy around would be appropriate around this dire time.
So was he to take that in high hopes? Or was he to see it as avoidance?

Her roommates Todd and Chest were ok guys. They liked their dance music. They also had quite the whiteboy dance moves at the hips. They thought LMFAO was a good band.

Ben was patient. He smiled at the sight of Leslie getting in party mode and had nothing but good intentions that he was going to make his point clear with her. If everyone was all mourning a sad day, then he would take everyone out to gallivant in society where the guys would PartyRockClub with new creatures and he could distract Leslie with his independent charm and entertainment value.
So they hopped in the car and drove on over to the Parliament, not necessarily a place Ben was fond of but was one that everyone else was familiar with. Despite Ben personally making an oath to not go there for a year, he gave in to see Leslie happy.
Ben was not in the soberest of states to be driving but was in the best shape out of the rest of the gang. Stupidly, Ben sped through a yellow traffic light and by the time he was halfway through, it appeared he blew a red light. Well, he was halfway there. Ben was embarrassed but nobody in the car seemed to make a fuss about it so Ben stupidly apologized and they went on as if nothing happened.

When Ben got to the bar, all his old friends were there and Ben couldn’t be more ecstatic about it. Finally, where Leslie was taking him to all her places of comfort and popular society, he was in a zone where he could be seen as the famous one.
But Leslie didn’t seem to move much. She stayed hidden away in the corner with her two roommates who were slumming in their seats and not showing many signs of liveliness. While Ben was slapping hands and catching up on friends, Leslie was playing pool and staying quiet.
And then Roger walked in with a new main squeeze. Definitely not something Ben and Roger had planned out and not something Leslie took kindly.
She didn’t make an effort to say anything to Ben but did confront Roger with a comment of “you’re an asshole” and darted for the door as Ben turned his head.
It seemed that one minute Leslie was still working on her first drink, then the next she was out the door.
Ben ran after her.
“Where are you going?” he asked confusingly.
“I need to go” she repetitively insisted.
“But I don’t understand. I don’t even like this place but I came here so I could be with you… and now you’re leaving?” he just explained the obviously currently occurring.
“My friends are really freaked out that you blew that red light” she quickly blurted out. “I had some friends that just recently got in a bad car crash and we just don’t want anything to happen”.
It was an excuse that she seemed to have held in for years and delivered it so suddenly. It was the least thing Ben had seen coming or even considered. Maybe she was right.
He let her leave and she was quick to jump in a taxi and take off with her mute roommates. Ben no longer had a reason to be in his least favorite of bars.
Ben got home and went straight to sleep, desperately not concentrating on his smorgasbord of emotions.
While he was sleeping, she texted him a fine layout of excuses.
“If I never talk to you again” it began, “don’t drive like an idiot. Life is too short for anything to happen to you like that. I think you and Roger hang around each other too much. I think you are a great person but you are terrible at reading people. I am such a caring person, why would you ever want to hurt me? Well, have a good life and I still left my car phone charger in your car”.

Sundays are the worst day of the week. 
That message was a scattered scrapbook of mixed excuses. It left with with more questions then answers.
If it really bugged her, why didn’t she just tell him about the car thing instead of randomly choosing to leave? Was she even going to say goodbye if he had not seen her leaving? What did hanging out with Roger have to do with the way she felt about Ben? And what the hell did reading her have to do with anything and how would it change their night?
That morning had persuaded him most by his grumpiness. So he typed her everything on his mind and she had no response.
She didn’t say anything to him back. Ben took it as her expression of disappointment so he left her alone.
Then Roger felt the need to let Ben on every insight he was missing out on.
The reason Roger and his ex-devil-girlfriend had so many problems was based solely on her the crazy collection of emotions she would rush through caused by her addiction to cocaine. Roger had also experienced the contact of only getting attention from early hours of the morning.
“Did you think she was up every five a.m. just because she liked to miss out on sleep?” Roger realistically mapped it out.
Ben felt he could blame most of her behavior on a possible addiction but only was hurt by it as he thought about it more. 

Did she only flower Ben with attention because he was the only one willing to accompany her every late night?
Was her addiction the only influence to her showing affection to Ben?
Were the roommates the influences to her habit? And what if he could take her away from her destructive lifestyle? Could he have changed her?
Ben fantasized to think so.

The week after, she still left him messages but of no subject he cared to read. He didn’t respond back, only to watch another random collection of conversation lay in front of him.
“Hey where are you? Are you done being mad? Oh Ben please come back. I’m going to have a heart attack. I wish I had a bigger rack. Then maybe you’d be back in black. Well if you’re not going to be my friend so can I have my charger back?”

Just when he had thought she was seriously furious, here she was trying to make light of the situation. Not one acknowledgement of concern as to why Ben had stopped talking to her. Not one acknowledgment to her mixed plethora of prior excuses. Not one thank you for being overly polite to her and not the rude, sexual moron her beauty was probably used to.
And what bugged Ben the most, not one apology.
Ben never needed to talk to her again.
He thinks now about how much fun “Leslie and Ben” could have been but also worries about how destructive his life would be now if he had her around.
The idea of being something with her still makes him smile, because it was the fastest growing respect and love for someone he had ever grew.
They could have been great. But she was too ahead of herself to slow down and notice him. And he was too slow to hurry up and kiss her.