CelebriTuedays: Jimmy McMillan – The Rent is Too Damn High guy is Super Fly!

November 8, 2017November 8, 2017 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 3 Comments

They say don’t meet your idols because they’ll never live up to your expectations, but when I met Jimmy McMillan, I was floating just as Damn High as the Rent! Welcome to the CelebriTuesday Time Machine; buckle up because we’re travelling back in time five years to a much gentler time with a much fatter and much balder me…

If you don’t know who Jimmy McMillan is – stop right now and educate yourself about one of the founding fathers of New York City Politics! Forget about Hamilton and learn about something important! You can’t go wrong backing a candidate with a background featuring careers as a Karate Expert, R & B Artist, Stripper, Private Investigator, AND creator of The Rent Is Too Damn High Political Party! Get the facts – Jimmy got your backs!

Get the facts – Jimmy got your backs!

It was New York City – Election Night 2012: The world was a different place and politics were politics, but you didn’t actually feel dirty watching the politicians as you do nowadays. Of course, nothing mattered to me as much as the guest of honor at the election night party I’d be attending: none other than Jimmy McMillan! The Rent Was Too Damn High and he was out preaching about it! I was prepped and ready to meet the man, the myth, the legend!

Taking No Shave November to a whole new Level!

I’d written about Jimmy before and was a fan, but I went with limited expectations as sometimes with these networking events, you don’t actually get to meet the person; who knew my humble dream was about to come true! I got to meet Jimmy and snap a few pictures with him and he was charismatic and funny, and a literal chick magnet as tons of hot young girls were just hanging all over him! He was crazy as all get out, and the longer I stayed and chatted, the more stories he told; I was captivated and hanging on every word. He was crazy and outrageous, and the stories were unbelievable, yet I couldn’t turn away from him or his handler (yes he had a handler, a man who during the day was a professional working for JP Morgan, but working for Jimmy is his “passion project” whatever the hell that means).

I told him that I’d written about him and that I was the Immodium Abuser. He asked what I’d written so I showed him – not remembering that in the very first paragraph I’d compared his goatee to two giant fuzzy white testicles resting on his chin and said he was wearing OJ Simpson gloves. Anyone else might have had the sense to stop reading, but when did sense ever stop me. Besides that, he thought it was hilarious. That’s when the true irony of the situation struck me like a lightning bolt: there I was explaining to a crazy person as if I were the sane one – that I call myself Immodium Abuser and write crazy stories and then I proceed to read him something I’d written about him and his nose hair. Basically he was watching the train wreck the same way I was: we each looked across and instantly saw another lunatic just like us realizing that crazy really does radiate towards crazy!

Jimmy asked me if I knew why he hadn’t been in the public eye so much lately and I told him that I just assumed it was because he lost the election, but he leaned in and said it was much more serious than that: he’d had major surgery to remove shrapnel in his stomach. “Oh my God” I said – “did you get shot?” “No” he told me “it’s from an old wound from the Vietnam War…They had to put magnets down my throat to get that shrapnel out. The magnets were tied to a string and they had to go in and out and remove them one by one that way. I was awake the whole time.” The handler kept nodding along and interjecting throughout the story adding “mmmhmmm – I was there – it was touch and go – mmmhmmm – we almost lost him – touch and go.”

“What?” I asked “How was it touch and go? He just said he was awake the whole time? That’s not touch and go. Also, what kind of magnets were they using – they must have been really strong…and what kind of string were they tied to? Like kite string? Yarn? How did they get it down your throat? Who did this surgery – are you sure they were a doctor?” I had a million questions that I was shooting out rapid fire to try and clear it up and make heads or tails if what they were telling me, but the answers seemed even more incredible and crazy than the original story and the two of them kept laughing at me as if I was the crazy one there…Seriously though, what kind of string could they have used? I was just picturing him lying there while the doctor was using a kid’s toy like this:

We had a blast and laughed a lot but the night was coming to a close as Jimmy was telling me how he was getting a car sponsored with The Rent is Too Damn High logo wrapped around it and I was thinking I should get one with Imodium Abuser on it. Then I think that I actually might have offered to volunteer for the next campaign (which I would do in a heartbeat by the way) as we said our goodbyes…I was drunk and had a long train ride home ahead of me, but I knew deep in my soul this was a great night that I’d never forget. I thought he would be crazy and fun in person, but he was out in orbit and I loved every minute!

Although Jimmy McMillan isn’t running for Mayor again, he is running for City Council in New York City today, so what better time to revisit that night we met…Hopefully you voted today and remembered the reason for the voting season: The Rent is Too Damn High!!! I don’t get any special compensation if you buy these, but these dolls make a great Holiday gift for everyone on your list:

LINK TO THE ABSOLUTE BEST JIMMY McMILLAN MUSIC VIDEO EVER!!!

Think you have bad luck? My brother got ran over TWICE by the same car!

March 29, 2017March 29, 2017 / www.immodiumabuser.com / Leave a comment

With St. Patrick’s Day last week, I was thinking about sharing some stories about my lucky shamrocks, but as I was writing, I couldn’t help but think of my brother. Forget about Luck of the Irish, if it weren’t for bad luck, my brother Joey wouldn’t have any at all. Here’s a perfect example to illustrate just how unlucky he is – picture it: Merit Gas Station: Long Island: September 2000.

My brother pulled into the gas station one man and left in tattered pieces. Nowadays, you can pay at the pump, but for anyone of the young’uns that might be reading this – back in 2000 it was down-right prehistoric: you won’t believe it, but we had to actually walk from your car to the attendant’s booth, prepay for your gas and then walk all the way back to your car to fill it up. Simple enough for most people, but not for my brother, not that day. Joey put the pump in the gas tank, headed over to prepay, paid for his gas, and headed back over to pump it. All normal and the same thing he had done hundreds and hundreds of times when – BOOM he’s suddenly a hood ornament!

Out of nowhere, an old man rammed into Joey, knocking him to the ground, and proceeded to drive over him like he was gas station roadkill. Seriously, he was a Merritt Muskrat flattened like a pancake! Picture a possum on I95 wriggling under the front tires trying to break free before he’s crushed to bits – that was my brother there on the pavement. As he was screaming in agony and trying to figure out what the hell was going on, the old man realized that he hit something, stopped the car, and threw it in reverse. HE THREW THE EFFING CAR IN REVERSE AND THEN PROCEEDED TO HIT HIM AGAIN! HE RAN HIM OVER TWICE! JOEY GOT HIT BY THE SAME CAR TWICE!!!

My brother was in pain the first go around, but the shock of the car re-running him over set him over the edge. Screaming for help, the other customers could only watch in horror until that pimped out old Caddy finally came to a resting halt. One would think that people watching this unfold or the Police on the scene might rush over to my brother to assist and try and see if this real life crash test dummy was still alive, but they instead ran to the old man, who was clutching his chest. At this point he was outside the car on the ground next to Joey because after stopping the car, he got out, took one look at my brother, turned white as a ghost, shrugged his shoulders as if to say “Shit happens” and then his feet came out from underneath him and he hit the pavement.

As the police and emergency personnel were tending to the old man, my brother was screaming “What the fuck? He ran me over twice and you’re helping him? Someone pump my gas or get my fucking money back from that attendant!” It fell on deaf ears though, as the police were trying to get the old man’s information. He directed them to his dashboard – he had flash cards with his name, address, and directions back to his house. Apparently, he had suffered a stroke almost four months to the day of the accident and wasn’t supposed to be driving. Of course, they felt the old man was in critical condition and immediately got him out of there in an ambulance and then asked my brother if he wanted an ambulance as well. Who stops to ask the person that got ran over twice if they’d like an ambulance? If ever there was a clear cut need for an ambulance, I’m pretty sure that was it.

It’s like every time he gets gas, that Elvis song “Steamroller Blues” plays in the background like his very own theme song: “I’m a steamroller baby, I’m ‘bout to roll all over you…” I’d like to say that my brother is now safely crossing on the green and not in between, but when we recently followed him to my sister’s house, he pulled over to get out and switch drivers right on the highway and his wife said “Why in the world would he get out of the car on a highway instead of pulling into a parking lot? Wasn’t getting run over twice enough?” Apparently, you can take the boy out of the gas station, but you can’t take the gas station out of the boy!

This has nothing to do with my brother or him getting hit by the car TWICE, but there’s always room for Jimmy McMillan!

Apparently, the first sense you lose once you get struck by a car is your sense of humor – and it’s still on the fritz because almost 17 years later, he still doesn’t think it’s funny. In hindsight, he really did get seriously hurt: he had his shoulder operated on, broke two toes and messed up his knee pretty bad. I only make light of this happening because it didn’t happen to me and it’s been years since it happened so it’s OK to laugh about it now. Granted we laughed back then too, but that’s not the point. We live and we learn and since then he looks both ways twice before crossing just in case…

Three Quick Things

November 22, 2013November 22, 2013 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 16 Comments

1. Glozell’s Cinnamon Twerk video is absolutely awesome. She’s taken her Cinnamon Challenge to another level – and it’s hysterical. Check her out and then look around her you tube channel – she’s got some crazy stuff on there…

2. The Mayor of Toronto Rob Ford is my second favorite politician. (No one will ever top The Rent is Too Damn High Guy – Jimmy McMillan. Besides buying crack from Somali drug dealers and getting filmed smoking it, he rammed into a lady like he was one of the bulls in Pamplona, and he gave a fantastic press conference extolling the virtues of marriage while denying kitty cat snack accusations (watch the second video clip below and this will make sense). If he is not the next reality show superstar – a great injustice will have been done. Ron Burgundy sang a reelection song for him and had Kanye not already got down on bended knee and already proposed, Kim KarTrashian would have been stuck to him like wallpaper…

It makes me a little sad that the Surreal World isn’t still on. Can’t you just see Mr. Mayor, Chuck Norris, Mr. T, Flavor Flav, Charo, and David Hasselhoff all trying to just get along and live together?

YOU MUST SEE HIS GREATEST HITS VIDEOS HERE AND HERE!!!

3. I am grateful and thanked my wife for supporting me through the NYC Marathon training and on Race Day, but there is another thank you that is due: I want to take this moment to thank the makers of NipEaze.

When they say that this product discreetly conceals and protects nipples, they mean it. I was so confident that I felt like I had my own security team guarding my guns. Not to be gross, but I have been that guy with the blood soaked shirt. I walked in from the park one day and my shirt looked as if I had just taken two gun shots to the chest in a driveby. Unbeknownst to me, I was running around rocking a sweaty tee with giant red stains through the park. Who knew nipples bled and who knew nipples bled that much? I mean, there was a lot of blood…

NipEaze, you have earned your rightful place next to Imodium AD in my life. What you have given me can never be repaid and the extent to which I appreciate you can never be fully verbalized…They’re sweat proof, breathable, discreet, and really stay on there. I sweat like a whore in church, but those little anchors were firmly in place for the duration. They even come in two sizes, but remember that for best results, NipEAZE should not be larger than the outside diameter of the areola.

I know what you must be thinking “what’s the big deal and why is this fool talking about his nipples so much?” and before I was a runner I didn’t understand and appreciate my nips either. Like the Shakira song says “These Nips Don’t Lie.” I took them for granted and abused them when I ran a half marathon over the Summer and thought a Pacman band aid could do the job of a mighty hero. It was no use, these poor little nips were hurt, sore, and irritated like nobody’s business. It was as if I got a super-sized purple nurple by King Kong nine times in a row.

This is an actual picture of me resting after finishing the marathon…

Don’t even ask about the pictures they take on race day either. My shirt was sweaty and stuck to me like saran wrap around chopped meat so badly that my nipples were protruding through my shirt like a meerkat on sentinel duty. I looked like a third string extra from Baywatch…Did you ever see Meatloaf in Fight Club – that was me! I was actually looking at the pictures taken at the race when my friend Beena came rolling by and took one look at them and told me that I needed to call the photographer immediately and threaten legal action if he didn’t delete those shots immediately. Not my best moment…

Either way, I appreciate the support (literally) and wanted to thank them. If anyone had told me six months ago that I’d be parading running tights, a du rag and nipple shields publicly and proudly through Central Park, I would have popped them right in the chops but here I am today sharing my bits and pieces for the world!

Rats All Folks!

December 5, 2012December 5, 2012 / www.immodiumabuser.com / Leave a comment

Any day that I can slip in a photo of Jimmy McMillan is a good day in my book!

Marlene and I just saw a crazy guy in Times Square with three rats on his body taking pictures with tourists. One rat sat on each shoulder and one on his hat. As if that wasn’t novelty enough, they were all dyed neon colors…I was disgusted and as I walked away wondered exactly how one goes down that career path; he had a line of people waiting for him like he was the famous political genius Jimmy McMillan… Anyway, it skeeved me out and reminded me of another instance when I was traumatized…

When I was in High School there were two sisters that I was friendly with that were so ugly it was a sin. I’m not an attractive person in any way, so this isn’t coming from a place of arrogance – it is coming from a place of consideration. I’m not exaggerating, those poor girls were butt ugly. I have seen malnourished, third-world refugees that have a better shot of getting laid at the local pub on a Saturday night. I’m telling you this from the standpoint of a compadre because if I wasn’t funny, there would be nothing going for me and I’d still be single!

Anyway, the sisters were into Theatre too, so we were always in the school plays together and we became pretty friendly. One day after rehearsal was over, we were heading out the doors and it was raining cats and dogs. Their mother pulled up and as they got into their station wagon, she asked if I wanted a ride home and I gratefully accepted.

As we were heading out of the parking lot, I got a good look and couldn’t help but realize that their mother was actually a decent looking woman. She wasn’t a MILF or anything but, truthfully, I might have hit that on a drunk night in college given the chance or the right amounts of alcohol. She introduced herself and invited me over for dinner which I accepted. I couldn’t help but think that she absolutely couldn’t be more pleasant and I wondered where the attitude on these two sisters came from; It must be their father, I thought. As we drove to their house, I looked sister to sister, and then back to mom, and then sister to sister again and then back to mom and I just truly, truly hoped for both of their sakes, that this was only an awkward phase that they were going through.

Rats all Folks…

When we got to their house, I met their father, his mother who lived with them, and their younger brother. Amazingly enough, all of them were just as appealing as the sisters. You could see the resemblance to their father immediately, and that is not a compliment or something any girl should ever have to go through. We were making small talk and I took a seat on the couch next to their sweet little grandmother. As we were talking, their mother was looking over my shoulder shaking her head no, but I wasn’t paying attention to her because I was captivated by their grandmother. She was telling me about how both of her granddaughters were so funny and so beautiful. She repeated it three times and I laughed along with her thinking she must be kidding around because neither of those two qualities could be used to describe either sister on their best day – but she was serious. I was questioning to myself whether dementia had settled in with her…when at that moment everyone got quiet.

I thought I heard something jostling around behind me and turned my head to see a rat racing across the top of their couch towards me! A FUCKING RAT! As it crawled across the couch and up to my sleeve, I nearly dropped dead right there! I thought that I must be hallucinating looking right at this gray little rat shooting across the couch like a rocket – dragging the biggest set of balls I have ever seen in my life. Yes, when I say balls I mean balls. Seriously, I haven’t seen balls that big on adult men in gym locker rooms, but here was this little fucker charging across the couch at me – proud as can be! My first reaction was absolute shock and terror at being this close to a rat. My second reaction was about the sheer size of that rat’s balls because they were probably ten percent of his body weight. It was just Shocking!

I was overcome with paralyzing fear and lost control of myself and did what any self-respecting man in my position would do: I started screaming hysterically like a little baby girl. “CALL 911 – THERE’S A FUCKING RAT ON THE COUCH! WHAT THE FUCK !!! GET THAT FUCKING RAT OUT OF HERE!!! (at this point they were hysterical laughing and said it was their pet – one of four rats they kept in the house.) As the rat was advancing up my arm now, getting closer to my face I lost it: “HELLO, WHAT THE FUCK!!!YOU UGLY FUCK, GET THAT FUCKING RAT AWAY FROM ME!…WHAT DID I JUST SAY???…THE FUCKING RAT IS ON ME…YOU UGLY BITCH…THAT…FUCKING…RAT…IS…ON…MY…ARM!!! GET THAT FUCKING THING OUT OF HERE NOW YOU UGLY FUCK!!!”

With that, the room fell dead silent and their brother scooped up the rat. All eyes were on me and no one was saying a word as I tried to nonchalantly check and make sure that I hadn’t just shit my pants on their couch. My heart was racing a mile a minute and I was looking around the room, not to see if they were all staring at me which they were, but to make sure there were no other rats out…The sister that had put the rat onto the couch was closest to me and she gave me the full stink eye and said in a very nasty tone “He’s harmless and you’re being such a little baby. And by the way, my mother thinks I’m beautiful!” As I tried to calm myself and catch my breath, I offered “Who keeps rats in their house? Get that fucking thing out of here. You don’t put that on people! What’s wrong with you? That’s disgusting! Hello, it’s a fucking rat! And also, your mother is a fucking liar!” That last bit came out a lot harsher than the way I actually meant it, but I was just attacked by a rat so my emotional state was shaky at best and I shouldn’t have been held responsible for anything that I was saying.

Great, now my hair is gonna frizz up…

Their mother turned from cute to crazy in an instant and lashed into me something fierce. She really let me have it. I don’t know what happened to that pleasant, sweet-as-can-be woman from the earlier car ride, but this crazy bitch went off. She tried to make it like there was something wrong with me (if you can believe that) and that I had been the one out of line – as if it’s normal to put a rat on someone – and she actually wanted me to apologize. I couldn’t tell if she meant for me to apologize to the rat or one of the sisters… With that, my invitation for dinner was rudely revoked as was my ride home and they told me to get out immediately. Not only did I have to walk in the pouring rain, but they lived even further away from my house than the school was, so it took me twice as long to get home. Needless to say, I never went back to that house again – nor did I ever receive another invitation for a ride – but that’s not the point. Who puts a rat on someone? What is wrong with people?

The lesson we learned; Even though she might be a cute mother – there’s probably something wrong under that cover…

SPECIAL ELECTION DAY REPOST ABOUT THE REALLY IMPORTANT ISSUES FACING US!

November 6, 2012 / www.immodiumabuser.com / Leave a comment

No photo retouching at all – this is all Jimmy!!!

I am not just reposting this important message because there is an Election Day Party with Jimmy McMillan (The Rent is Too Damn High guy) tonight and I am not reposting it because I’m going to see him at that party tonight. I’m reposting this because he is informed, he has a clear vision, he is smart…Who am I kidding? I’m reposting this because he is freaking hysterical and if you don’t know who he is, go and look him up right now! Seriously, you’ll thank me later and your life will be a little brighter because Jimmy is in it.

No on really cares about the Republicans or the Democrats or the ecomomy or unemployment – all the other campaigns skipped right over the most imortant issue of all. Click HERE to see the really important topics that no one else has covered and see why Immodiumabuser.com is vehemently supporting Jimmy MacMillan in this and every election!

https://immodiumabuser.com/2010/10/20/the-no-means-nose-hair-movement/

Tell my wife that I’ll pretend to be surprised, but I’d really like to see this under the tree this Christmas: My very own Jimmy McMillan action figure. Forget G.I. Joe, I want the real American hero action figure! (Click here and buy one for that someone special on your list this Holiday Season)

Forget G.I. Joe, I want the Real American hero Action Figure!

The “No Means Nose” Hair Movement!

October 20, 2010November 17, 2010 / www.immodiumabuser.com / 3 Comments

Cameron, thank you for letting me know that you agree with me on the nose hair issue – I know that there is a quiet majority building out there that thinks it’s as disgusting as I do and that it’s about time we stood up and banded together. To that end, forget the Tea Party – I’m starting the “No Means Nose” Hair Movement and I might actually approach Jimmy McMillan, the “Rent is Too Damn High” guy, to be the face of our movement because if there is one man we should all be listening to about facial hair – it’s him! I don’t think he’s crazy at all – I wish I could get away with wearing gloves 24/7 and never touch anything with my bare hands. He’s the aftershock of a BP Sized Rogaine Spill, but I took one look at him, with that spectacular goatee sculpted like two giant fuzzy white testicles and those black OJ Simpson ready to do some damage gloves on his hands and it made me realize that him and I could be really good friends. I’m serious, he’s a little crazy so we might not become Besties, but we’re definitely gonna hang out! And you’ll notice that there is an immense amount of hair all over his face – but none coming out of his nose! Way to go Jimmy!

The very next time I see a person that has a nose hair “Boa” swinging in the wind – I‘m going to stop what I’m doing and start chanting: “Hell no, don’t let it grow!” Forget the economy or unemployment – this is the issue the politicians should be covering! I’m going to start a revolution and run for local office on the nose hair platform alone.

Truth be told about my toiletries – the cosmetic companies are more important to me than doctors. Forget getting better; the people that make you look better are the important ones. No oath needed – just make me look good and cover this up as much as possible. The toiletries listed in the post are only the products that I use daily. I didn’t include the products that I use intermittently such as facial masks, scrubs, toners and don’t even get me started about the products I use when I shave. I start with a Body Shop for Men Maca Root Shave Oil to restore my skin’s natural moisture barrier. Then I take my birch shaving brush (you didn’t think I was gonna put that cream on my fingers did you?) and slather on the Neutrogena Men Sensitive Skin Shave Cream. The wooden brush keeps my hands clean and enhances the foamy lather. Then I shave and get a good rubdown of the Neutrogena Sensitive Skin After Shave Balm. At this point, I get out my cotton pads (Cotton balls just fall apart and leave a cotton residue on my skin – and then I finish it off with Tendskin to prevent skin irritation. That product is actually for women’s ingrown hairs that they get when shaving their cooch, but it works better than anything else I’ve tried. Before you even ask, no, I am not embarrassed to admit that!

Imagine how hard it is for me to travel? Besides the ton of clothes I bring, I like options – I have to bring all these toiletries (even if it’s just overnight) or I just will not be able to sleep. If I forget even one thing, I’ll be worked up all night. I forgot my blinders one night and I was tossing and turning the whole night – I am a creature of habit and I need my things. If I didn’t have my toiletries, I would look like a creature of the night, not a creature of habit.

We just moved and when unloading the boxes and trying to find where everything should go – we had more boxes for the bathroom than we did for any other room. I have a tendency to buy a few at a time when I get my toiletries. I like to line the products up in the cabinets in a row all facing front so I can see the four or five replacements behind the currently used on – sort of like a row of Storm Troopers on the Death Star; they’re all there for the sole purpose of fighting for and protecting my skin at all costs. One might be thinking (and my wife will swear to it) that I am on the path to being featured on Hoarders, but one would be wrong. I buy some of these products online because you just cannot get them in certain stores and I am always afraid I will run out. I can concede that if I was living in a studio apartment or didn’t have enough space to put this stuff, that I might be going overboard a little, but who is getting hurt? Are the shelves in the bathroom closets complaining about me behind my back again? Did the hand towel rat me out to the pot holder when they were tumbling in the dryer and now everyone in the house knows about me? Who cares – I say let me have my toiletries and worry about your own nose hair! And Elect Jimmy McMillan! Forget Snookie or Yo Gabba Gabba – the hottest Halloween costume of the year is just a fuzzy white Afro Mullet away!

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