Or more specifically, a 45-year-old roadie named Jimmy (Ron Eldard), who, after a 20-year stint with Blue Öyster Cult, finds himself canned and forced to head home to his mother's place in Forest Hills, Queens.From there, we witness his readjustment to real life as he ponders exactly what his next move will be.Now, I can see that she shares a lot of the same dating habits as me, traits that are naturally ingrained in our very similar personalities.The way we both do this thing where we complain and make fun of the person we actually really like.My sisters would be there, we would go to dinner, I could be charming and ask lots of questions, feeling genuinely happy that my mother would now not be alone. That moment, yelling like a crazy person into the Christmas air, was when the screaming, pouty little 10-year-old girl crawled her way out of my stomach and I have been struggling to get rid of her ever since.I would be able to compartmentalize the fact that he was not my dad, and appreciate him a person. It has been almost four years since we lost my dad, and the pain never goes away, but you do learn to live with it.Most of these have been around and / or have been re-written from standard jokes.We have no way of confirming the copyrights or origin of jokes submitted by our visitors.
This new dude my mom is seeing, or any one after, they just don’t really stand a chance with me. No one will have a better moustache or sneak me gum in church or excitedly drag me to art galleries like my dad.
When my mom told me she had started dating a roadie for a country western band, my very first gut reaction was sheer giddiness.
It’s strange to think of your parent as “cute,” but her cadence and almost-girlish tone was so dead-on to my single friends’ that I couldn’t stop smiling. He helped us decorate the tree, and glued together a broken ornament, and ate Christmas cookies and kissed my mom in front of me and she was super happy but somehow I was unable to see that as much anymore. I offered to go buy eggs on the one day a year where every single store is closed, and I drove to this park where my high school boyfriend and I sat and he gave me a mix CD and cried before I left for college.
The list of reasons is as long as the winding road they live on.
I got on the road for one reason and one reason only: pussy."Sure, the love of music is what initially attracted me to the bright stage lights, but the moment I discovered the magical, almost hypnotic power that a laminated backstage pass swinging from a lanyard had on wide-eyed, high-heeled, short-skirted women, the love of the spectacle suddenly dissipated."When I was firmly planted on the road, I made it my mission to see, do, taste, visit, experience, and, above all, fuck everything I had only heard about in lyrics and read about in books."I started my long journey on the road one month after losing my virginity, so touristy shit was cool, but what I really wanted to do was what any young lad let loose night after night in a room full of girls would: fuck as many of them as I could get away with.