All right- lemme see if I can capture the insanity of the past few days with what I consider "wit".
Saturday morning I got up early, dressed in my suit, grabbed the last few fingers of tequila I had, and hightailed it down to U Village. Why? Because that dumb fuckin' TV show "The Apprentice" was having "auditions" or "interviews" or whatever the fuck they call 'em. It was PunkJr's idea to go, but it was MY idea to be wasted at nine in the morning when we did.
I got down there and found my gigantic friend in line- it wasn't hard, considering PunkJr's six foot seven. (I didn't stutter, ladies.) The spectacle of humanity was just fucking surreal, to say the least. We got in line, went inside, and sat around a table while the "casting director" told us to "talk amongst yourselves." We figured we'd be in there for a while, considering the other groups had been in there for at least twenty, and sometimes as many as thirty minutes, so we just chit-chatted about how we'd shit-talk a bad boss. The "casting director" didn't even pay attention to us. Five minutes go by, and she comes back-
"In five seconds or less, why do you want to be The Apprentice?"
Stock answers all around. Then it was my turn.
"Why do YOU want to be The Apprentice?"
"Cause I wanna tackle The Donald and eat his face!"
"Great, that's... great. Callbacks will be in a week for those of you who're picked."
And suddenly, we were outside again.
PunkJr and I then commenced to drinking beers in the parking lot, lamenting how fucking lame the whole experience was. Hell, I was just pissed I did anything involving a goddamn TV show. I don't even WATCH the fuckin' thing anymore. We then called null who showed up to take our drinky crow asses to lunch, whereupon we discovered that the only way to improve on massive perfection was to add olives to it. You regular readers will know what I mean- the rest of you can read back a week to Saturday before last.
After that, we went to Fry's, where I purchased Event Horizon on DVD- the main selling point?
null: "The great thing about it on DVD is slowing it down during the scene where they're watching all the fucked up records from the last crew." I was sold. We also purchased these goddamn things, and I still don't know why. Our plan was to take them out drinking with us, which may or may not still happen.
Upon returning to lovely Seattle, null had the genius idea of creating Grand Marnier floats. Imagine vanilla ice cream, orange soda, and a fine orange liquer mixed into a frothy brew of stupidity. I can't even begin to describe what they tasted like- imagine drinking an orange creamsicle after it had been puked up by a leprechaun riding a donkey. They were THAT good.
Later on, Dr_Phibes showed up and brought the one and only flamedaddy hisself- Cash. We barbecued, and went out drinking, sans Airzookas. On the bus down there, PunkJr was showing a bunch of young women pictures of us on his digital camera, asking them if they would sleep with us. I'm both proud and ashamed to say that I got at least one "yes".
We drank, we rode the bus, and on the way back, encountered the drunkenest sonofabitch this side of Chuck Bukowski's asshole, who for no reason at all, started talking to us about him and his roommate "double-stuffing" some chick. He also mentioned that he didn't want no "dude's doo-doo hole", or a "mouth with a beard around it". I advised all our crew to write this poet's wisdom down, for it surely was the key to the Promised Land. Also, I think he might have shit himself. With a gentle wave, I bid adieu to this bard of the ways of love, and made my way home.
Yesterday I didn't do shit except play video games and clean my house. Oh well.
And now I'm reporting all this back to you, Faithful Reader.
See what happens when you beg me to update?
Saturday morning I got up early, dressed in my suit, grabbed the last few fingers of tequila I had, and hightailed it down to U Village. Why? Because that dumb fuckin' TV show "The Apprentice" was having "auditions" or "interviews" or whatever the fuck they call 'em. It was PunkJr's idea to go, but it was MY idea to be wasted at nine in the morning when we did.
I got down there and found my gigantic friend in line- it wasn't hard, considering PunkJr's six foot seven. (I didn't stutter, ladies.) The spectacle of humanity was just fucking surreal, to say the least. We got in line, went inside, and sat around a table while the "casting director" told us to "talk amongst yourselves." We figured we'd be in there for a while, considering the other groups had been in there for at least twenty, and sometimes as many as thirty minutes, so we just chit-chatted about how we'd shit-talk a bad boss. The "casting director" didn't even pay attention to us. Five minutes go by, and she comes back-
"In five seconds or less, why do you want to be The Apprentice?"
Stock answers all around. Then it was my turn.
"Why do YOU want to be The Apprentice?"
"Cause I wanna tackle The Donald and eat his face!"
"Great, that's... great. Callbacks will be in a week for those of you who're picked."
And suddenly, we were outside again.
PunkJr and I then commenced to drinking beers in the parking lot, lamenting how fucking lame the whole experience was. Hell, I was just pissed I did anything involving a goddamn TV show. I don't even WATCH the fuckin' thing anymore. We then called null who showed up to take our drinky crow asses to lunch, whereupon we discovered that the only way to improve on massive perfection was to add olives to it. You regular readers will know what I mean- the rest of you can read back a week to Saturday before last.
After that, we went to Fry's, where I purchased Event Horizon on DVD- the main selling point?
null: "The great thing about it on DVD is slowing it down during the scene where they're watching all the fucked up records from the last crew." I was sold. We also purchased these goddamn things, and I still don't know why. Our plan was to take them out drinking with us, which may or may not still happen.
Upon returning to lovely Seattle, null had the genius idea of creating Grand Marnier floats. Imagine vanilla ice cream, orange soda, and a fine orange liquer mixed into a frothy brew of stupidity. I can't even begin to describe what they tasted like- imagine drinking an orange creamsicle after it had been puked up by a leprechaun riding a donkey. They were THAT good.
Later on, Dr_Phibes showed up and brought the one and only flamedaddy hisself- Cash. We barbecued, and went out drinking, sans Airzookas. On the bus down there, PunkJr was showing a bunch of young women pictures of us on his digital camera, asking them if they would sleep with us. I'm both proud and ashamed to say that I got at least one "yes".
We drank, we rode the bus, and on the way back, encountered the drunkenest sonofabitch this side of Chuck Bukowski's asshole, who for no reason at all, started talking to us about him and his roommate "double-stuffing" some chick. He also mentioned that he didn't want no "dude's doo-doo hole", or a "mouth with a beard around it". I advised all our crew to write this poet's wisdom down, for it surely was the key to the Promised Land. Also, I think he might have shit himself. With a gentle wave, I bid adieu to this bard of the ways of love, and made my way home.
Yesterday I didn't do shit except play video games and clean my house. Oh well.
And now I'm reporting all this back to you, Faithful Reader.
See what happens when you beg me to update?
VIEW 25 of 54 COMMENTS
freyja__:
why not?
kobi:
where was I when all this insanity was hapnin? sounds like a fun day next time lemme know.