Last Week II: Kickboxing Annihilation
Last week was full of isolated incidences that, by Sunday, had coalesced into a single destructive body of unstoppable Boo-ya. To put it another way: if the week had gone any better, the government would finally have to approve my proposal for an Awesome Proof Safety Suit lest the counrty be swept away in a lethal blast of fucking sweet.
After spending all of last Sunday recovering from actually putting thought into and writing something about Chronicles of Riddick, I decided that in order to succeed in lilfe, I needed to look a little more like Riddick and a little less like a melting candy-bar gradually spreading itself over a cold slice of pizza. Basically that means I went to the gym and contributed to the "Get Z Fucking Buff" charitable fund.
Later in the week, I was greeted by a surprise visit from my girlfriend. Once the doorbell rang, I decided it was time to play funny-man. Since my doorbell doesn't ring very often (Queens comes to people, people don't come to Queens) I figured it was either someone with the wrong address, someone I knew extremely well, or one of my brother's friends. All are perfectly acceptable targets for tomfoolery. So I got on the intercom and announced myself as Master Fast Legs' Academy for Erotic Breakdancing. The playful giggle on the other end sounded like it came from a mouth that I'd soon be attempting to insert my tongue into, so I let them in. Little did I know, my neighbor was behind my girlfriend with a bag of groceries waiting to get in. This person, who I've never actually met, came up first, so it was incalculably hilarious when I opened the door and started doing the Roger Rabbit for whoever it was coming around the corner. At this point on the embarrassment scale, most people become paralyzed. I dealt with the situation by continuing my dance while repeatedly saying "Mmm. Yeah." I know it's a long shot, them being my neighbors and all, but I hope I never see that person again.
Good news from my brother UnnecessaryE assaulted me like he's currently assaulting the Middle East. His decision to volunteer to stay in Iraq an extra three months past his required three was immediately reversed upon his first day in the science ficion like heat. Apparently triple digit numbers on paper mean as much to him as the words 'control being given back to locals at the end of the month. A general suckiness reported to follow.' Seeing as he didn't listen to my advice on the physical and political climates, my hopes aren't great that he'll listen to my other piece of advice: if you have to go out, don't go out with an M-16 in your hands. Steal a superior AK ASAP.
The week was sealed by a visit from Coco and her man davel during the SG Burlesque show. Those two are as awesome as throatneedle's Single White Female like obsession for looking like me is frightening.
Last week was full of isolated incidences that, by Sunday, had coalesced into a single destructive body of unstoppable Boo-ya. To put it another way: if the week had gone any better, the government would finally have to approve my proposal for an Awesome Proof Safety Suit lest the counrty be swept away in a lethal blast of fucking sweet.
After spending all of last Sunday recovering from actually putting thought into and writing something about Chronicles of Riddick, I decided that in order to succeed in lilfe, I needed to look a little more like Riddick and a little less like a melting candy-bar gradually spreading itself over a cold slice of pizza. Basically that means I went to the gym and contributed to the "Get Z Fucking Buff" charitable fund.
Later in the week, I was greeted by a surprise visit from my girlfriend. Once the doorbell rang, I decided it was time to play funny-man. Since my doorbell doesn't ring very often (Queens comes to people, people don't come to Queens) I figured it was either someone with the wrong address, someone I knew extremely well, or one of my brother's friends. All are perfectly acceptable targets for tomfoolery. So I got on the intercom and announced myself as Master Fast Legs' Academy for Erotic Breakdancing. The playful giggle on the other end sounded like it came from a mouth that I'd soon be attempting to insert my tongue into, so I let them in. Little did I know, my neighbor was behind my girlfriend with a bag of groceries waiting to get in. This person, who I've never actually met, came up first, so it was incalculably hilarious when I opened the door and started doing the Roger Rabbit for whoever it was coming around the corner. At this point on the embarrassment scale, most people become paralyzed. I dealt with the situation by continuing my dance while repeatedly saying "Mmm. Yeah." I know it's a long shot, them being my neighbors and all, but I hope I never see that person again.
Good news from my brother UnnecessaryE assaulted me like he's currently assaulting the Middle East. His decision to volunteer to stay in Iraq an extra three months past his required three was immediately reversed upon his first day in the science ficion like heat. Apparently triple digit numbers on paper mean as much to him as the words 'control being given back to locals at the end of the month. A general suckiness reported to follow.' Seeing as he didn't listen to my advice on the physical and political climates, my hopes aren't great that he'll listen to my other piece of advice: if you have to go out, don't go out with an M-16 in your hands. Steal a superior AK ASAP.
The week was sealed by a visit from Coco and her man davel during the SG Burlesque show. Those two are as awesome as throatneedle's Single White Female like obsession for looking like me is frightening.
VIEW 25 of 34 COMMENTS
dharmabox:
so you have you hung with ricky at all since he has been up there?
rockinricky:
Egad . . . I didn't touch a computer since I left you that message until just now. Next time my friend.