In Accordance With The Dictates of Reason
Saint Patties Day ’07 was a bit of a bust, despite my best attempt of being green and mean the night will be remembered as the night I failed to celebrate my heritage coming home with unbruised knuckles and as many brain cells as I left with.
The same can’t be said for the evening at lovely Courtney‘s. The boys and I warmed up at Umpy’s house as a prelim. Brotha dawkness did what he does best, and faced the consequences dished out by the vengeful homeowner. Luckily his penis shielded most of the blow. We walked the streets in the cloak of night and into the pad of Courtney where everyone felt the need to pop shots elbow to elbow in the kitchen. I was quick to assemble with the fellas and strike a quick pose for the room full of adoring womens. Compare this pic with this one. Things started gettin nutty as the night progressed; Dawkness tried pinnin the tail on the Jenny and Dylan seized the role of the noise nazi.
Then there was Sasha’s, my favorite Russian chic. For this occasion I felt it necessary to come dressed with my favorite accessory, enjoy that corniness. she looks cute as a damn button there too. I fair well. So I spent the majority of that night bleeding profusely from the crater of the once proud pimple I tripled sliced with my fuckin Gillette Mach 3 turbo emo pain expression device razor. Half a roll of toilet paper later I was back in the game, beads of sweat clinging to each one of my ass hairs in the kitchen. It even looks sweaty in that picture. Sweaty Jimbo balanced shit on his head. Adam hosed puke off Sasha’s doorstep.
So I guess I never posted to the world about the aftermath of bambi colliding into my Celica, well it’s still in the family and I picked up a 1990 Toyota Supra, white, turbo, 5 speed, targa top, with about 105k miles. So I rock that pretty hard, its fast, its a tank and I love it.
I Killed Young Buck
Here I sit rideless with my thumb up my ass, tried to drive to the gym and ended up with a deer fallin on top of me and a head full of glass. Allow me to elaborate: Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, roughly 4:30 in the P.M. I was cruisin over to the gym for some preemptive turkey calorie burning…For the locals reading I will note that I was traveling down 92 heading towards Foster City. In the corner of my eye I spotted a long deer tryin to pull a frogger across 4 lanes of near rush hour traffic at which moment a sudden seizure of respiratory action took place. All I could do was watch the poor guy get past 2.5 lanes and the center divide before a SUV hit him at full speed sending him airborne with a downward trajectory aimed right at me, I down shifted hard and braked swerving into the shoulder closing my eyelids tight anticipating a forceful impact. It came. I fumbled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911 and with that I was notified that “Currently all emergency operators are helping others and to stay on the line”… (ya kthxbye) I opened my eyes and immediately became overwhelmed with the amount of glass and deer hair that had lodged itself in every conceivable nook and cranny of my former vehicle.
I stepped out of the car, a bit shaken to say the least and went over to the deer which was very still but still writhing in pain. I said my words and made my peace with him right before a member of San Mateo’s finest put 2 in the peaceful creatures cranium. I’ve always a longstanding appreciation for deer and having one shatter my windshield, put a whole in my hood, and dent both front panels makes me think no less upon the species. I am very sorry for the deer and very lucky that Highway Crew didn’t have venison and white irish meat to clean up.
Aftermath: Engine saw no damage and remains the most valuable asset to the car itself with barely 82,000 original miles on a 13 year old car. With the windshield gone you could almost call it a fucked up convertible of sorts with a built in glass propelling heating system.
I got checked out by the Firefighters / EMT’s and suffered only mildshock and a new glassy finish from head to wiener. My pops extracted enough glass from my scalp to blow a god damn shotglass but sadly I received no scars I could invoke pity lays with :(. FTL overall. FTL
Quick, Go Put On Your Leisure Suit!
Between the everyday schooling, the Mon – Fri 7 hour days as Brady, Network Consultant extraordinaire, and my weekend title as Saver of Lives it’s a bitch to find time to cool out with the buddies, much less post about it. Seems like all the original gangstas are away at REAL colleges while me and Ian get our community college education at 8 bucks / credit. When I heard that Ally was home for the the weekend from SF State I pounced on her to hang out. Her reaction was less than enthusiastic, evident here, in this. When I wasn’t busy terrorizing pour Ally I could be found at 5story with Pinky practicing our Top Gun routine. RIGHTEOUS!
Got a chance to chill with Nat Queen Cole as well, talkin, bullshittin, laughin, throwin shit offa 5story, swimming back up into her birth canal, jus hangin out.
Jus last weekend I had the pleasure of coolin out at Umpy’s house, with the likes of Gannon, Josh, who reminds me of that dude from Half Baked who lives on the couch. It was a laid back night till Umpy caked a 25 year old attendee and relocated him to the kitchen floor shattering tasteful kitchenware in the process. I’d say that was the closet thing to an ol fashion cowboy saloon bar brawl I will ever see. After I sampled some full bodied Jamaican lager and successfully upgraded his router’s firmware I excused myself from the festivities and retreated to my car to begin the short drive home only to find my car enveloped in a new glossy finish. Not too many silkworms where I’m from so I figured I had been wrapped! Now I can think of far more useful applications for the wrap of seran but I guess Ian had other plans. With the help of Mr. Gannon I was able to get what seemed no less than 5 pounds worth of the wrappy substance from my car’s immaculate body. G’times.
Remember Whens
Mario Soda – I’ve spent nights tossing and turning trying to remember this stuff. From what I can recollect, this was the nectar of the gods, the cream of the crop, the king of swing, the colossus of clout, the mac daddy of sugary carbonated beverages. You got Mario Punch (amazing), Luigi Berry, Yoshi Apple (breathtaking), & Princess Cherry (paint thinner). I would suck these down and lick the cans after when I was a wee lad livin in the early 90’s. I wanna know how many of you out there have had the pleasure of sippin chode sized novelty nintendo soda.
Salute Your Muthafuckin Shorts : Reminisce with me wont you? Back to when the summers were filled with Nickolodeon and Stick Stickly…Back when quality programming dominated the Nick Network, when mullet-rocking characters like Zeke stole the hearts of adoring preteen girls. And who could forget Donkey Lips, the lovable fat fuck with a speech impediment. I remember wishing to salute the shorts of a certain female cast member (pictured in the middle here) but I bet that lurky camp counselor probably beat me to it. What stuck out most in my mind was the dreaded Awful Waffle..the sticky tradition that entailed the victim sprawled out with his midriff exposed and than received a belly button full of maple syrup. Good stuff.