http://www.magcloud.com/browse/Issue/102532
JoeWaWa's Joke-Primer #1 Zany, quirky, off the Wall
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
JoeWaWa's Joke-Book
www.joewawa.com
The Fish Joke
I was driving in downtown Ventnor New Jersey in my barracuda
I drove down to the shell station on Ventnor Ave, The guy said “I blew a seal”
I told him to forget my sex life, just fix the car! I picked up a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich at my local WaWa, I told them to hold the mako
Then I went to the “Sailfish” bar in Margate, it was a real dive
But I knew the bartender Gill, he used to play for the dolphins
I yelled Gill give me the usual, a rusty snail, hold the grunions, I had to yell, he was hard of herring
I tipped him a “fin” on porpoise, just for the halibut
I was feeling good so I left a sand dollar for Jerry’s squids
The place was packed like a can of sardines, there were screaming “groupers”
I especially enjoyed the “bass” player, he was playing a hot tuna, “salmon chanted evening”
I looked over and spotted a cute yellowfin, I said “wow a piece of piches”
I asked her for her sign, she said aquarium, I told her let’s get quaint
I invited her up to my place, I told her it would only take a couple of minnows
She gave me that same old line, she had a haddock who worked on the boardwalk
He was full of muscles, he was steamed, you could see the anchor in his eye
He said “look you shrimp, you don’t come trolling around here!”
I said ahh your being “shellfish” Gill sensed trouble so he called the Atlantic City cods
He hit me with a sucker punch, I hit him with a right hook
He eeled over, what a fluke! I told Gill you don’t need the cods, call a sturgeon!
She was finally coming out of her shell, she asked me my name
I said “JoeWaWa” and I took her to dinner, I wined and dined her!
We had a whale of a time, I bought her a bouquet of flounders
For all my efforts I caught a case of the clams, I called the Local 54 free clinic and said “Hurry this is urchin!”
The Fish Joke
I was driving in downtown Ventnor New Jersey in my barracuda
I drove down to the shell station on Ventnor Ave, The guy said “I blew a seal”
I told him to forget my sex life, just fix the car! I picked up a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich at my local WaWa, I told them to hold the mako
Then I went to the “Sailfish” bar in Margate, it was a real dive
But I knew the bartender Gill, he used to play for the dolphins
I yelled Gill give me the usual, a rusty snail, hold the grunions, I had to yell, he was hard of herring
I tipped him a “fin” on porpoise, just for the halibut
I was feeling good so I left a sand dollar for Jerry’s squids
The place was packed like a can of sardines, there were screaming “groupers”
I especially enjoyed the “bass” player, he was playing a hot tuna, “salmon chanted evening”
I looked over and spotted a cute yellowfin, I said “wow a piece of piches”
I asked her for her sign, she said aquarium, I told her let’s get quaint
I invited her up to my place, I told her it would only take a couple of minnows
She gave me that same old line, she had a haddock who worked on the boardwalk
He was full of muscles, he was steamed, you could see the anchor in his eye
He said “look you shrimp, you don’t come trolling around here!”
I said ahh your being “shellfish” Gill sensed trouble so he called the Atlantic City cods
He hit me with a sucker punch, I hit him with a right hook
He eeled over, what a fluke! I told Gill you don’t need the cods, call a sturgeon!
She was finally coming out of her shell, she asked me my name
I said “JoeWaWa” and I took her to dinner, I wined and dined her!
We had a whale of a time, I bought her a bouquet of flounders
For all my efforts I caught a case of the clams, I called the Local 54 free clinic and said “Hurry this is urchin!”
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Rambling Gambling Reckless Joe
Yo 11, all bets down, pay the do’s and take the don’ts, ring! Ring! 5 of a kind, show down, ante up, to the cash advance window, credit cards growing, back to Gamblers Anonymous. How does one overcome many close brushes with death, two near over doses, total loss of self, vicious reckless addiction to drugs and booze and then turn to gambling for the answer? I guess I liked the action, the adrenaline, a cure for the boredom and loneliness, the bells ringing, and the excitement. Still I wasn’t happy with myself and I was running or escaping from something. That feeling that “I don’t measure up” or “I am not good enough.” I guess lack of self-esteem and self-centeredness was at the core of my addiction. They say you peel the layers of the onion and more will be revealed. Well here is how it happened to me.
My earliest memories involve sitting on my dad’s lap while he was playing poker with other tavern owners. I stacked up his money and quietly watched him. One night I remember a fight breaking out, the table was overturned. I grabbed some 100’s, 50’s and 20’s and stuffed them down my pajamas. A few days later, the nuns called my parents asking why a first grader is carrying over $500.00 dollars. I was a big shot already. We pitched baseball cards and pennies at school and I played Pokeno with my grandma and Aunts at an early age. Then we got a pool table from the bar, I remember gambling and losing $5.00 to $10.00 a bet to a sharp shooting neighbor. I was playing football pools by 4th grade and by 6th grade I figured I could do better by printing my own. By 8th grade I had a paper route and started to be more interested in selling weed, beer, and soon the drugs would come.
Yo 11, all bets down, pay the do’s and take the don’ts, ring! Ring! 5 of a kind, show down, ante up, to the cash advance window, credit cards growing, back to Gamblers Anonymous. How does one overcome many close brushes with death, two near over doses, total loss of self, vicious reckless addiction to drugs and booze and then turn to gambling for the answer? I guess I liked the action, the adrenaline, a cure for the boredom and loneliness, the bells ringing, and the excitement. Still I wasn’t happy with myself and I was running or escaping from something. That feeling that “I don’t measure up” or “I am not good enough.” I guess lack of self-esteem and self-centeredness was at the core of my addiction. They say you peel the layers of the onion and more will be revealed. Well here is how it happened to me.
My earliest memories involve sitting on my dad’s lap while he was playing poker with other tavern owners. I stacked up his money and quietly watched him. One night I remember a fight breaking out, the table was overturned. I grabbed some 100’s, 50’s and 20’s and stuffed them down my pajamas. A few days later, the nuns called my parents asking why a first grader is carrying over $500.00 dollars. I was a big shot already. We pitched baseball cards and pennies at school and I played Pokeno with my grandma and Aunts at an early age. Then we got a pool table from the bar, I remember gambling and losing $5.00 to $10.00 a bet to a sharp shooting neighbor. I was playing football pools by 4th grade and by 6th grade I figured I could do better by printing my own. By 8th grade I had a paper route and started to be more interested in selling weed, beer, and soon the drugs would come.
Black Clouds And Vultures
Black Clouds and Vultures
Hovering over me, waiting for me to take the first drink
And make their kill. Patient but hungry
They want it all, they want my soul
I usually recognize them, but they are very sly
Like Eve tempting Adam, that forbidden drink
Sometimes I feel that I live, just not to give into them
They creep in every area like weed growing on sidewalks
I keep cutting them down, but they sprout up again
The forces of the disease are too great for me
They know their business and use their weapons well
Fear, resentments, and all of that negative stuff
I feel naked, alone, and unprepared
All I have is a sword, the sword of God
Sometimes I get too lazy to use it that is when I am vulnerable
Today, I sharpen my sword
Hovering over me, waiting for me to take the first drink
And make their kill. Patient but hungry
They want it all, they want my soul
I usually recognize them, but they are very sly
Like Eve tempting Adam, that forbidden drink
Sometimes I feel that I live, just not to give into them
They creep in every area like weed growing on sidewalks
I keep cutting them down, but they sprout up again
The forces of the disease are too great for me
They know their business and use their weapons well
Fear, resentments, and all of that negative stuff
I feel naked, alone, and unprepared
All I have is a sword, the sword of God
Sometimes I get too lazy to use it that is when I am vulnerable
Today, I sharpen my sword
Friday, April 16, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
The Vicious Cycle, The JoeWaWa Story www.joewawa.com
The Vicious Cycle, The Joe Wawa Story
Check out my nhew book, read some of the excerpts
Everyone has a little Joe WaWa inside them, the guy that always wants one more and does not know when he has had enough. I came of age in the mid -1970’s, where I discovered sex, drugs, rock and roll, and the pain of addiction, thus “The Vicious Cycle” begins. I’ll take you through the early years where it all began, then into the “Casino and Beach” years’ where it all began to fall apart. Finally the journey continues into the recovery years where my search for normalcy, spirituality, love, family, meaning, and the American Dream, this book, was sought. I have added some poetry along the way highlighting the good times and the bad. These poems were written in my journal during the highs and lows of my addictions. Therefore, they are in their original form using poetic license. Joe WaWa, not an American hero, just a guy who saved himself from himself.
Check out my nhew book, read some of the excerpts
Everyone has a little Joe WaWa inside them, the guy that always wants one more and does not know when he has had enough. I came of age in the mid -1970’s, where I discovered sex, drugs, rock and roll, and the pain of addiction, thus “The Vicious Cycle” begins. I’ll take you through the early years where it all began, then into the “Casino and Beach” years’ where it all began to fall apart. Finally the journey continues into the recovery years where my search for normalcy, spirituality, love, family, meaning, and the American Dream, this book, was sought. I have added some poetry along the way highlighting the good times and the bad. These poems were written in my journal during the highs and lows of my addictions. Therefore, they are in their original form using poetic license. Joe WaWa, not an American hero, just a guy who saved himself from himself.
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