I haven't written here in awhile, I've been so busy with work, and every time I go to try it, I can't ever think of anything, but I started keeping a log of things to write about, so here's hoping I can keep back up with this again. So, here's something that happened last month, but first let me start back to the beginning of summer.
There was this girl, she was a piece of Jailbait to be honest, but not terribly young. I'm nineteen, she's seventeen, I don't see anything wrong with that. She's a cute little red head and pretty funny, even if through her naivete sometimes. I hung out with her quite often over the summer (she was the subject in a post actually, the one I went to the flea market with and got some stuff), but I could tell I was going to be friendzoned. I mean, hell, even her father liked me.
Oh, yeah, her father. Let me give you a bit of perspective on her father.
First, physical traits: His arms are fucking HUGE. And I don't mean this like, "oh yeah, he has some big arms, he's kind of a scary guy with the right shadowing". I mean his arms are huge because he used to pull SEMI TRUCKS in competition for a living. Yeah. That fucking big. Keep that in mind.
Second, psychological traits: Kicked his daughter out at one point because she wanted to talk to him because she thought she might be bisexual. Straight up kicked her right the fuck out for a couple weeks. Just because of that. From what I've seen and heard, the guy isn't even some kind of super Christian, he's just an ass.
Third, he has a gun collection: Yeah. Because his fucking arms weren't enough. He had to have a gun collection.
So fast forward to August 20th. Def Leppard is in town. It's a band I enjoy. It's a band she loves. I figured I'd take her there and try and make a move. Then I found out it was more like her family taking me along. Damn it. I already said I was going to go though and I am a man of my word.
Fortune smiled upon me that night however. It appeared he was too pissed off at his girlfriend to go to this concert and enjoy it, so instead, it was just going to be me and her. Things were looking up. I was secretly happy, ecstatic even, but I kept it inside. Then he asked me something that kinda took me aback.
"So do you know how to shoot a gun?"
I couldn't tell if he was asking because he wanted to gauge how 'dangerous' I was. I knew he was also quite racist so I wasn't sure if he was chalking me up to a black stereotype or not.
"Uhm....Why?"
"Just answer the question. DO you know...how to fire a gun?"
"I...I guess? I mean, if I had to shoot somebody, I'm sure I could figure out how to just point it and shoot it"
"Well listen, I'm going to give you this gun and if a man tries to do anything inappropriate with my daughter, you shoot them."
In my head: Oh, hahaha, he's trying to intimidate me by subtly letting me know he has a gun.
...
Wait. Is he serious? No, he can't be serious.
The look in his eyes suggested otherwise though. I just kinda nervously laughed and told him I'd shoot myself in the foot if he gave it to me, still, he tried to push it on me. Luckily, his girlfriend stepped in and told him to stop being 'silly'. Maybe I'm just innocent, but offering some kid you've met twice a gun isn't being silly. But hey, maybe I'm just a bit chaste.
Then we got down to a bit of business. He was planning on making me the manager of a pizza place he owned. Was going to pay me well. Going to get free food all the time. Life looked pretty damn good. Didn't even have to fill out an application. Fuck yeah, connections.
So then we left. Got to be front row at the concert and was even there in time to see Heart open up for them. I tried making a move a few times at the concert, putting my hand around her waist, trying to get real close to her, putting my hand around her shoulder, but she just kinda brushed it off. Eventually, I took the hint and just let it be and enjoyed the concert.
This is where things get tricky.
The concert didn't get out till eleven.
Dad thought it got out at ten.
I waited a good hour to let all the drunk traffic go ahead of me.
Didn't leave till midnight.
Stopped for ice cream.
That's when I got the angry phone call.
"WHERETHEFUCKISMYDAUGHTERIWANTHERASSHOMEI'MGOINGTOKICKYOURASSIFSHEISN'TFUCKINGHOMERIGHTUFKCINGNOW"
I tried to explain the situation, I told him I'd talk to him about it, but that just pissed him off even more. I told him how he was wrong and how I was trying to be, y'know, responsible and not dead, but he wouldn't have it. He was fucking furious.
So now take this into account.
His arms are as big as my torso. He has a gun collection. His mental state is....something that is lacking. And I have his underage daughter. And (according to his schedule) she's two hours late.
After that, I drove home as fast as I could and dropped her off. I was going to stay and talk to him, but she told me that was a horrible idea. And apparently he wasn't even there at the house and was circling around in the parking lots of the venue. He made it there in four minutes and, with normal driving, it takes fours minutes to get off their street and another fifteen to get there.
That night was just a weird one in general. I mean, if something happened, ANYTHING, even anything like a kiss happened, it would've made all that anger directed at me justified, but nothing happened. At least I got to sit front row there. It would've been more profitable to get another girl though I suppose.
Reflecting on it though, I guess in the end it was a good thing I didn't take that gun from him. That....would've been awkward as fuck to try and get back to him.
"Oh, yeah, here ya go. I know you're super pissed at me. Here's your gun back" :D
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Stand Up
So, I'm going to be doing stand up in front of a very large audience on Saturday. I went through and I labeled all of my stories and I would really appreciate it if you just took the time to go through some of them, skim through the ones that seem interesting, and tell me which ones that you think are the best.
I really need the help to know what's funny and what isn't. I'd really, REALLY appreciate the help. Thank you!
I really need the help to know what's funny and what isn't. I'd really, REALLY appreciate the help. Thank you!
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Awkward
Just a couple of short (aw, who am I kidding. Since when have any of these been short ey?) and sweet stories. Decided I would try and throw down a new entry on all my days off. Let's hope I can keep up with that.
So I was remembering a time in high school when I was in Japanese class. I was taking a test, whether it was particularly hard or easy is not what this story is about. That little detail is just to give you the setting. Just a really tense, on edge test where everyone is quiet and in deep heavy concentration.
The only noise that was to be heard in the classroom was the slight tapping by fidgety feet, the occasional page flip of the test, the scrawling of notes from a separate 'class' (I'll explain that in a moment), and the pattering of fingers against the keyboard made by the teacher. The teacher is kinda strict, so things had to be kept silent. While she is quite cool most of the time, when it came to academics, she was very straight edged. Not saying there's anything wrong, but again, all of this is for set up.
I know they always say to show not tell, but oh well.
So as for that other 'class', that is an independent study group. It was made up of two people who excelled at Japanese. My friends Eric and Chris. Both were extremely intelligent and skipped a few years of Japanese class they would have had to otherwise take, but since they were the only two to do so, they were put into a 'class' of their own. They spent most of their days reading from a text book, talking to each other in Japanese, or otherwise just dickin' around. And this is where we find the current story.
Take it back to when we are all taking that test and everything is silent. Everyone in deep concentration on the work they had in front of them. Until a sweet, female voice broke the silence.
"Masturbation"
Time stopped. Everything grew really thick. The pencils stopped scratching along the papers. The typing stopped on the keyboard. Everyone looked at one another; seeking confirmation in each other's eyes wondering if they had heard the same thing.
Everyone then looked in two directions though in what order they looked may have been different. They either looked up towards the front of the class to see how our Sensei was going to react or ended up looking towards the back of the class where the source of the sound came from.
Sensei slowly, ominously swiveled around with an expression that had a mixture of shock and anger. It was a look that combined two expressions we had seen countless times. Looking back, we all saw Eric sitting up completely straight, hand over his electronic dictionary, looking blankly ahead, The look on his face was an instant give away, we all knew that he did it. Also, the fact that Chris was just staring at him with a look of awe on his face kinda hinted it wasn't him.
Everyone tried so hard not to laugh. She wasn't concentrated on us, but when I looked at everyone else, I could tell they wanted to let out one huge gasp of laughter. Sensei stared him down, static electricity filling the air. He tried hard not to look back, but he didn't need to. We all knew.
"Eric. Out in the hallway. Now"
Eric's eyes went dead, and he acquired that one hundred yard stare death row inmates get when they realize they're about to meet their doom. As he stepped out into the hallway with his executioner, he took one deep breath and exited, never to be seen again....
Then we collectively as a class had a good laugh.
So I was remembering a time in high school when I was in Japanese class. I was taking a test, whether it was particularly hard or easy is not what this story is about. That little detail is just to give you the setting. Just a really tense, on edge test where everyone is quiet and in deep heavy concentration.
The only noise that was to be heard in the classroom was the slight tapping by fidgety feet, the occasional page flip of the test, the scrawling of notes from a separate 'class' (I'll explain that in a moment), and the pattering of fingers against the keyboard made by the teacher. The teacher is kinda strict, so things had to be kept silent. While she is quite cool most of the time, when it came to academics, she was very straight edged. Not saying there's anything wrong, but again, all of this is for set up.
I know they always say to show not tell, but oh well.
So as for that other 'class', that is an independent study group. It was made up of two people who excelled at Japanese. My friends Eric and Chris. Both were extremely intelligent and skipped a few years of Japanese class they would have had to otherwise take, but since they were the only two to do so, they were put into a 'class' of their own. They spent most of their days reading from a text book, talking to each other in Japanese, or otherwise just dickin' around. And this is where we find the current story.
Take it back to when we are all taking that test and everything is silent. Everyone in deep concentration on the work they had in front of them. Until a sweet, female voice broke the silence.
"Masturbation"
Time stopped. Everything grew really thick. The pencils stopped scratching along the papers. The typing stopped on the keyboard. Everyone looked at one another; seeking confirmation in each other's eyes wondering if they had heard the same thing.
Everyone then looked in two directions though in what order they looked may have been different. They either looked up towards the front of the class to see how our Sensei was going to react or ended up looking towards the back of the class where the source of the sound came from.
Sensei slowly, ominously swiveled around with an expression that had a mixture of shock and anger. It was a look that combined two expressions we had seen countless times. Looking back, we all saw Eric sitting up completely straight, hand over his electronic dictionary, looking blankly ahead, The look on his face was an instant give away, we all knew that he did it. Also, the fact that Chris was just staring at him with a look of awe on his face kinda hinted it wasn't him.
Everyone tried so hard not to laugh. She wasn't concentrated on us, but when I looked at everyone else, I could tell they wanted to let out one huge gasp of laughter. Sensei stared him down, static electricity filling the air. He tried hard not to look back, but he didn't need to. We all knew.
"Eric. Out in the hallway. Now"
Eric's eyes went dead, and he acquired that one hundred yard stare death row inmates get when they realize they're about to meet their doom. As he stepped out into the hallway with his executioner, he took one deep breath and exited, never to be seen again....
Then we collectively as a class had a good laugh.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Cuddling
[This isn't a funny story, so if you're looking for comedy, look for a post that you may not have read.]
The other night, I was hanging out with this girl named Keni (her name is Mckenzie, but she hates all the girls she knows that go by that name, so she dubs herself Keni as to not be associated with them in any way). She's a really sweet girl that I've been smitten with for awhile. She's a really nice girl, likes anime and such like me. She loves to cook, similar to me. She...well, we have a lot in common. She's not a dumb girl by all means and she's very compassionate.
For those last two things are reasons why I thought she'd never like me. While I'm not saying I'm stupid and the girls I like are stupid, my sense of humor is very crass and quite crude (as evidenced by my posts) and being all I'm good for is laughs and I hold humor to be a very important thing in life and as such created my own character around this, I did not think she would like me, you know, 'like that'. The classic thing girls always say. Not only that, but as for the compassionate part, I am, how you say, a dick.
Putting spoiler tags in books at Borders.
Dick move.
Mocking typos and pointing out the stupid things that people say on facebook or other places online.
Dick move.
Rick Rollin' people.
Dick move.
Cutting people off in traffic without even using your blinker and then slowing down.
Dick move. But even I don't do that....the fuckers.
She is not in any way any of those things, she scolds me, albeit in a playful manner, when I do such things. Still, I don't know why, but I am smitten with her. At the same time, it's those things that made me feel that she's probably not my type either, so I rationalized it, and logged it away.
Oh, and at some point she also blatantly told me that she only sees me as 'just a friend', so there's that too.
So let's back up a bit to a few months ago. I read someone's blog on here who talked about a man named Vince DiCarlo. Supposedly this man was a practitioner and inventor of what he liked to call, "Natural Game". In essence, he was a pick up artist. A pickup artist is just a person who is able to attract and initiate contact with others that they are interested in starting a possible relationship with, or as many men I'm sure do, sleep with.
I've read up on a lot of that stuff, and although it isn't as dried out as cliche pick up lines, a lot of it seemed really...synthetic. So as I read this bloggers description of this guys stuff, much like you are now, it seemed interesting, so I decided I would...well, pick it up.
Now, the highs and lows of what 'Natural Game' is, is almost as it sounds. It's a style of thinking that dictates being open and natural. Not exactly wearing everything on your sleeve, but going out with an open attitude and positive mindset that emanates outward and just makes people, not even just those who you are trying to attract, be more at ease with you. It eventually just seeps over to all aspects of life. For the most part, it really teaches someone how to truly relax and become confident. I would definitely say if you're having trouble with women, or a woman, look up this guy. I've read a lot of his stuff, and I can definitely say that it's worth at least a look.
So how does this relate?
Well, I realized that because she was a girl I likened so much, I was putting her up on a pedestal. What I thought was being 'sweet' and 'thoughtful' was just me being...well, in a way needy. It came off as me liking her, she could smell it a mile away, and in essence, although I was 'always there' for her and such, I was pretty much just being one of her gal pals.
So lately, after reading all this stuff, I decided to approach it the way it said I should. As cliche as it was, I was pretty much just being myself. Once it got to a certain point, yeah, I flirted, but I remained who I was and that's what made the difference.
Keni eventually spent the night and slept in my bed. Before you start thinking, "yeah, he got some", I'll say right now, I didn't. But that's okay. Honestly, it is.
We shared the bed and watched some anime on Adult Swim, and relaxed. I don't know how it got there (it was about 3AM at this point), but my arm ended up underneath her. I usually sleep on my side, but in order to do that, I would have to cuddle with her, and at that point, I figured I was still in the friendzone and it would've been awkward for her.
That was until she snuggled up really close to me. I summoned up every bit of courage I had from King Midas, Poseidon, Jupiter, and Odin and put my arm around her. My stone heart beat against my chest out of nervousness, but she didn't shy away or anything. She just snuggled up closer. So I hugged her close to me and she fell asleep in my arms. It was....warm. And very satisfying.
I woke up and she soon woke up soon afterwards. I kissed her on the forehead and told her good morning and she smiled in that hazy kind of way people do when they wake up in a good mood. We just laid there, her in my arms, and we talked.
She said she didn't know what it was, but she has started seeing me in a new way. Although she hasn't decided if she wants to date, she said that it is something she'll definitely contemplate. Which for me is a big improvement from the pit of the friendzone which up until that point I thought was nay impossible to climb out of.
So as a last statement, this is for you, my....twenty or so followers. If any of you have been friendzoned in the past, I was most likely similar to you and very bitter about being in such a predicament. Don't despair. There is hope.
Best of luck to both of us ey?
The other night, I was hanging out with this girl named Keni (her name is Mckenzie, but she hates all the girls she knows that go by that name, so she dubs herself Keni as to not be associated with them in any way). She's a really sweet girl that I've been smitten with for awhile. She's a really nice girl, likes anime and such like me. She loves to cook, similar to me. She...well, we have a lot in common. She's not a dumb girl by all means and she's very compassionate.
For those last two things are reasons why I thought she'd never like me. While I'm not saying I'm stupid and the girls I like are stupid, my sense of humor is very crass and quite crude (as evidenced by my posts) and being all I'm good for is laughs and I hold humor to be a very important thing in life and as such created my own character around this, I did not think she would like me, you know, 'like that'. The classic thing girls always say. Not only that, but as for the compassionate part, I am, how you say, a dick.
Putting spoiler tags in books at Borders.
Dick move.
Mocking typos and pointing out the stupid things that people say on facebook or other places online.
Dick move.
Rick Rollin' people.
Dick move.
Cutting people off in traffic without even using your blinker and then slowing down.
Dick move. But even I don't do that....the fuckers.
She is not in any way any of those things, she scolds me, albeit in a playful manner, when I do such things. Still, I don't know why, but I am smitten with her. At the same time, it's those things that made me feel that she's probably not my type either, so I rationalized it, and logged it away.
Oh, and at some point she also blatantly told me that she only sees me as 'just a friend', so there's that too.
So let's back up a bit to a few months ago. I read someone's blog on here who talked about a man named Vince DiCarlo. Supposedly this man was a practitioner and inventor of what he liked to call, "Natural Game". In essence, he was a pick up artist. A pickup artist is just a person who is able to attract and initiate contact with others that they are interested in starting a possible relationship with, or as many men I'm sure do, sleep with.
I've read up on a lot of that stuff, and although it isn't as dried out as cliche pick up lines, a lot of it seemed really...synthetic. So as I read this bloggers description of this guys stuff, much like you are now, it seemed interesting, so I decided I would...well, pick it up.
Now, the highs and lows of what 'Natural Game' is, is almost as it sounds. It's a style of thinking that dictates being open and natural. Not exactly wearing everything on your sleeve, but going out with an open attitude and positive mindset that emanates outward and just makes people, not even just those who you are trying to attract, be more at ease with you. It eventually just seeps over to all aspects of life. For the most part, it really teaches someone how to truly relax and become confident. I would definitely say if you're having trouble with women, or a woman, look up this guy. I've read a lot of his stuff, and I can definitely say that it's worth at least a look.
So how does this relate?
Well, I realized that because she was a girl I likened so much, I was putting her up on a pedestal. What I thought was being 'sweet' and 'thoughtful' was just me being...well, in a way needy. It came off as me liking her, she could smell it a mile away, and in essence, although I was 'always there' for her and such, I was pretty much just being one of her gal pals.
So lately, after reading all this stuff, I decided to approach it the way it said I should. As cliche as it was, I was pretty much just being myself. Once it got to a certain point, yeah, I flirted, but I remained who I was and that's what made the difference.
Keni eventually spent the night and slept in my bed. Before you start thinking, "yeah, he got some", I'll say right now, I didn't. But that's okay. Honestly, it is.
We shared the bed and watched some anime on Adult Swim, and relaxed. I don't know how it got there (it was about 3AM at this point), but my arm ended up underneath her. I usually sleep on my side, but in order to do that, I would have to cuddle with her, and at that point, I figured I was still in the friendzone and it would've been awkward for her.
That was until she snuggled up really close to me. I summoned up every bit of courage I had from King Midas, Poseidon, Jupiter, and Odin and put my arm around her. My stone heart beat against my chest out of nervousness, but she didn't shy away or anything. She just snuggled up closer. So I hugged her close to me and she fell asleep in my arms. It was....warm. And very satisfying.
I woke up and she soon woke up soon afterwards. I kissed her on the forehead and told her good morning and she smiled in that hazy kind of way people do when they wake up in a good mood. We just laid there, her in my arms, and we talked.
She said she didn't know what it was, but she has started seeing me in a new way. Although she hasn't decided if she wants to date, she said that it is something she'll definitely contemplate. Which for me is a big improvement from the pit of the friendzone which up until that point I thought was nay impossible to climb out of.
So as a last statement, this is for you, my....twenty or so followers. If any of you have been friendzoned in the past, I was most likely similar to you and very bitter about being in such a predicament. Don't despair. There is hope.
Best of luck to both of us ey?
Friday, July 29, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Gift Basket
(Some credit goes to the comedian Gabriel Iglesias for the idea)
Last year, there was nothing but open houses. Pretty much every weekend was some kind of party, mostly in the days graduation party, at nights...well, graduation after party. It was free food every weekend, and my family could tell how popular I was just by the sheer mass of invites I received. They had no idea I had so many friends.
There were many games of volleyball played. I got really good at that game by the end of the summer. A crude bean bag toss game where there's a slanted board (probably about fourteen inches to sixteen inches long, eight to ten wide and tilted at about a twenty five degree angle) and the point is to throw a bean bag onto it and get it to stay or even better to go into a hole towards the top part of it. I got pretty decent at that game. Made so many buckets you might as well have called me Charlie! (Charlie Bucket, the kid from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory...yeah, a very esoteric joke I suppose)
There were a couple parties that really stood out in my mind, but there was one thing that surpassed everything. That thing was the racist gift basket.
I have a black friend, he's my only black friend. Now, this isn't due to a racist or prejudice reason, I mean, hell, I am a person of tanliness, but around here, the general populace happens to be that of white like snow. Unless they tan a lot. Then in that case they're just cooked.
So just because I liked foolin' around with this guy, I decided to do a bit of shopping. I had an extra twenty dollars and I decided to make it stretch. I'm very glad everything was on sale. The list flowed as follows:
BBQ Potato Chips - 6 Pack
Funions - 2 Pack
Fried Chicken - Whole Chicken (never seen a whole fried chicken before this day)
Grape Kool-Aid - 6 Pack
Grape Soda - 12 Can Pack & 2 Liter
Watermelon Bubbleyum
The biggest watermelon I could find
Black Gentleman Quarterly - A magazine
The only thing that was missing was 40oz., but I'm not 21 so I couldn't buy it. That was all the money I had anyway and I decided it was adequate enough as was. I decided to wrap it up, everything but the watermelon, and put it in a gift bag.
I know that some of you live in other countries, but to sum up, here in America, these are the things that a stereotypical black man likes. I'm too poor to afford obnoxiously big rims/spinners for his car, can't buy fat white women, and he doesn't like hip-hop so I wasn't going to buy a CD he wasn't going to listen to, even as a joke, so that was what I was going to give him.
I finally arrived at his party, and I inconspicuously left it on the gift table; the bag in front of the watermelon. I quickly sauntered off and joined the rest of the party and started to have a fun time swimming and doing things, eating, hydrating myself, the norm. The moment soon approached when I was filling my plate with more food (I eat a lot, read back through this blog to anyone that's new and you'll see) I heard a roar of laughter. Believing I missed a joke or something, I shoved a piece of chicken in my mouth, threw some fruit on my plate and jettisoned out. I saw everyone around the table and my friend have this smile on his face. One of those smiles where he wants to laugh, but at the same time he doesn't.
I see he has just begun to go through the bag and is pulling out things one after the other. He pulls out everything, the chips, drinks, chicken, and after every time he appears speechless. Everyone snickers or laughs at what seems to be an endless bag of racist foods until he pulls out the magazine with a big black guy staring very threateningly at the camera in his picture and everyone loses it. I have the biggest smile when he looks over at me.
"I...was....", he sighs again, "Was this really all your doing? Did you buy all this?"
"Yeah, it ran me a good twenty bucks", I said after swallowing some grapes.
"A part of me doesn't want me to like this as much as I do...but I know, I know...that all of this is going to be gone by the end of the night", and he pulled me forward for a man hug.
Best 20 dollars I had ever spent.
Last year, there was nothing but open houses. Pretty much every weekend was some kind of party, mostly in the days graduation party, at nights...well, graduation after party. It was free food every weekend, and my family could tell how popular I was just by the sheer mass of invites I received. They had no idea I had so many friends.
There were many games of volleyball played. I got really good at that game by the end of the summer. A crude bean bag toss game where there's a slanted board (probably about fourteen inches to sixteen inches long, eight to ten wide and tilted at about a twenty five degree angle) and the point is to throw a bean bag onto it and get it to stay or even better to go into a hole towards the top part of it. I got pretty decent at that game. Made so many buckets you might as well have called me Charlie! (Charlie Bucket, the kid from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory...yeah, a very esoteric joke I suppose)
There were a couple parties that really stood out in my mind, but there was one thing that surpassed everything. That thing was the racist gift basket.
I have a black friend, he's my only black friend. Now, this isn't due to a racist or prejudice reason, I mean, hell, I am a person of tanliness, but around here, the general populace happens to be that of white like snow. Unless they tan a lot. Then in that case they're just cooked.
So just because I liked foolin' around with this guy, I decided to do a bit of shopping. I had an extra twenty dollars and I decided to make it stretch. I'm very glad everything was on sale. The list flowed as follows:
BBQ Potato Chips - 6 Pack
Funions - 2 Pack
Fried Chicken - Whole Chicken (never seen a whole fried chicken before this day)
Grape Kool-Aid - 6 Pack
Grape Soda - 12 Can Pack & 2 Liter
Watermelon Bubbleyum
The biggest watermelon I could find
Black Gentleman Quarterly - A magazine
The only thing that was missing was 40oz., but I'm not 21 so I couldn't buy it. That was all the money I had anyway and I decided it was adequate enough as was. I decided to wrap it up, everything but the watermelon, and put it in a gift bag.
I know that some of you live in other countries, but to sum up, here in America, these are the things that a stereotypical black man likes. I'm too poor to afford obnoxiously big rims/spinners for his car, can't buy fat white women, and he doesn't like hip-hop so I wasn't going to buy a CD he wasn't going to listen to, even as a joke, so that was what I was going to give him.
I finally arrived at his party, and I inconspicuously left it on the gift table; the bag in front of the watermelon. I quickly sauntered off and joined the rest of the party and started to have a fun time swimming and doing things, eating, hydrating myself, the norm. The moment soon approached when I was filling my plate with more food (I eat a lot, read back through this blog to anyone that's new and you'll see) I heard a roar of laughter. Believing I missed a joke or something, I shoved a piece of chicken in my mouth, threw some fruit on my plate and jettisoned out. I saw everyone around the table and my friend have this smile on his face. One of those smiles where he wants to laugh, but at the same time he doesn't.
I see he has just begun to go through the bag and is pulling out things one after the other. He pulls out everything, the chips, drinks, chicken, and after every time he appears speechless. Everyone snickers or laughs at what seems to be an endless bag of racist foods until he pulls out the magazine with a big black guy staring very threateningly at the camera in his picture and everyone loses it. I have the biggest smile when he looks over at me.
"I...was....", he sighs again, "Was this really all your doing? Did you buy all this?"
"Yeah, it ran me a good twenty bucks", I said after swallowing some grapes.
"A part of me doesn't want me to like this as much as I do...but I know, I know...that all of this is going to be gone by the end of the night", and he pulled me forward for a man hug.
Best 20 dollars I had ever spent.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Shortstack Destruction
My friend Scott and I were recently at a local eatery. It's a place called Royal Diner. Nice atmosphere, pretty good food at decent prices depending on what you're getting. It's usually one of the only places that is open 24/7 so when we're out at 3AM and we're hungry, we'll go to this place to get a bite to eat.
So this night, my friend Scott and I were really hungry, the whole point of going to a restaurant. We were both oddly feeling up for pancakes, so that's what we ordered. We were determined to destroy those short stacks. Force them down into our gullets and satisfy the craving for sweetened starches. There was something that made this particular trip amazing.
There was two girls sitting in a booth adjacent to ours. One of the girls was the talker, evidenced by her excessive spouting of crap that dribbled down her mouth. Not saying I'm not any better with these walls of texts, but there is a difference between this woman and me. The other one was the listener. Now, I'm not sure if she was actually processing everything that the other girl was saying or just in her own little world, but not matter what the Talker said, she would always just nod, or agree, though sometimes quite enthusiastically.
So this girl had one of those air headed, know nothing voices. You know the one. I usually just drown those out, but I heard one sentence that caught my ear.
"Yeah, so, like, I don't know why people never trust me with relationship or fucking advice", fucking used here as sexual intercourse
"I mean, I'm like walking herpies, I know about all this shit"
"Yeah, I know girl, I totally agree."
At this point, I stopped mid bite and my ears perked up. It was so sudden that Scott even noticed. He asked what was up and I motioned for him to listen to the conversation behind him unfold.
"Yeah, I wish people would listen to me. I got these flare ups fuckin' around. I know what the hell I'm doing. Like Lisa, she, like, never, ever listen to me."
Well maybe that's because you just referenced yourself as walking herpies. Maybe this is just me, but I probably wouldn't trust anyone who dubs themselves as that. Maybe I'm crazy though. Either that or this is some crazy new age vernacular that I haven't caught onto yet.
I laughed for a bit so I missed on what transitioned into what I heard next, but the next topic was about people she hates.
"-cking bitch Trish. God, she's with that dick head Al. I hope she gets crabs and dies."
I really hope she was talking about the actual crabs and this girl is allergic to shellfish because there was something terribly wrong with that sentence.
"For real girl. You, like, speak the truth. This is why I hang out with you and not those fake bitches Chelse and -"
"Wait, I just got a new update on my facebook. Oh my god, Tyler has been trying to hit on me and get into my pants."
"Oh. My. God. No. Way."
"Yeah. I think I might let him have a bit of nookie ya know? He'll be getting a big surprise in the morning", I snorted into my food and I tried to stifle my laughter. Then I felt bad for this poor bastard he's going to get from the herpies tank.
"Yeah, cause I ain't bringing condoms. That's up to the guy, girls should never be responsible for that. He wants to contend this, he better be packing some heat. I ain't gonna be labeled a slut."
Yes. Because being called a slut is a whole lot worse than being labeled as walking herpies. With how hard I was laughing, it was like I couldn't even taste the short stacks anymore. The stupidity of the conversation overshadowed any taste the pancakes could've made.
I left a large tip just because the waitress sat us next to those girls. It was definitely a good night.
[Joke of the night: Magic Apples]
A young fellow ran into an old man who was carring a bag.
"What's in the bag?" the youngster asked.
"magic apples", the old man replied.
"Prove it", said the young man.
"Well, besides apples, what is your favorite two fruits?" asked the old man.
"Watermelon and peaches", he answered.
The man handed him an apple and told him to try it out. The boy took a bite and said that it tasted like a watermelon. "Ok, turn it over", he said.
The boy did and took another bite and said that it tasted like a peach.
The youngster still wasn't convinced that they were magic.
The old fellow told him to name something else that he liked to eat.
"I like to eat pussy." he snapped.
The man handed him another apple and told him to try it.
He took a big bite, spit it out, wipped his mouth and esclaimed, "That tasted like shit".
The old man looked at him, smiled and said, "Turn it over."
So this night, my friend Scott and I were really hungry, the whole point of going to a restaurant. We were both oddly feeling up for pancakes, so that's what we ordered. We were determined to destroy those short stacks. Force them down into our gullets and satisfy the craving for sweetened starches. There was something that made this particular trip amazing.
There was two girls sitting in a booth adjacent to ours. One of the girls was the talker, evidenced by her excessive spouting of crap that dribbled down her mouth. Not saying I'm not any better with these walls of texts, but there is a difference between this woman and me. The other one was the listener. Now, I'm not sure if she was actually processing everything that the other girl was saying or just in her own little world, but not matter what the Talker said, she would always just nod, or agree, though sometimes quite enthusiastically.
So this girl had one of those air headed, know nothing voices. You know the one. I usually just drown those out, but I heard one sentence that caught my ear.
"Yeah, so, like, I don't know why people never trust me with relationship or fucking advice", fucking used here as sexual intercourse
"I mean, I'm like walking herpies, I know about all this shit"
"Yeah, I know girl, I totally agree."
At this point, I stopped mid bite and my ears perked up. It was so sudden that Scott even noticed. He asked what was up and I motioned for him to listen to the conversation behind him unfold.
"Yeah, I wish people would listen to me. I got these flare ups fuckin' around. I know what the hell I'm doing. Like Lisa, she, like, never, ever listen to me."
Well maybe that's because you just referenced yourself as walking herpies. Maybe this is just me, but I probably wouldn't trust anyone who dubs themselves as that. Maybe I'm crazy though. Either that or this is some crazy new age vernacular that I haven't caught onto yet.
I laughed for a bit so I missed on what transitioned into what I heard next, but the next topic was about people she hates.
"-cking bitch Trish. God, she's with that dick head Al. I hope she gets crabs and dies."
I really hope she was talking about the actual crabs and this girl is allergic to shellfish because there was something terribly wrong with that sentence.
"For real girl. You, like, speak the truth. This is why I hang out with you and not those fake bitches Chelse and -"
"Wait, I just got a new update on my facebook. Oh my god, Tyler has been trying to hit on me and get into my pants."
"Oh. My. God. No. Way."
"Yeah. I think I might let him have a bit of nookie ya know? He'll be getting a big surprise in the morning", I snorted into my food and I tried to stifle my laughter. Then I felt bad for this poor bastard he's going to get from the herpies tank.
"Yeah, cause I ain't bringing condoms. That's up to the guy, girls should never be responsible for that. He wants to contend this, he better be packing some heat. I ain't gonna be labeled a slut."
Yes. Because being called a slut is a whole lot worse than being labeled as walking herpies. With how hard I was laughing, it was like I couldn't even taste the short stacks anymore. The stupidity of the conversation overshadowed any taste the pancakes could've made.
I left a large tip just because the waitress sat us next to those girls. It was definitely a good night.
[Joke of the night: Magic Apples]
A young fellow ran into an old man who was carring a bag.
"What's in the bag?" the youngster asked.
"magic apples", the old man replied.
"Prove it", said the young man.
"Well, besides apples, what is your favorite two fruits?" asked the old man.
"Watermelon and peaches", he answered.
The man handed him an apple and told him to try it out. The boy took a bite and said that it tasted like a watermelon. "Ok, turn it over", he said.
The boy did and took another bite and said that it tasted like a peach.
The youngster still wasn't convinced that they were magic.
The old fellow told him to name something else that he liked to eat.
"I like to eat pussy." he snapped.
The man handed him another apple and told him to try it.
He took a big bite, spit it out, wipped his mouth and esclaimed, "That tasted like shit".
The old man looked at him, smiled and said, "Turn it over."
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