Da Bachelorhood

Sometimes I’m not really being entertained, and my mind has time to wander infinitely, in search of excitement, like a gay dude in a stripclub. These times occur when i’m doing things like driving home from school or banging the same dead hooker for the third time (that’s right, i’m client numbers 9 though 11). So, my mind wanders to the existential. Does jersey’s girlfriend know the real reason he loves amusement parks so much is because he likes to fistfuck midgets on the wooden rollercoaster in rythmic time with the ‘clack clack?’ Does gazzerro know that he drinks so much mountain dew that his sperm are radioactive and super hyper, and that he could turn those 5 daily whacks into a goldmine with imitation horse cum? Does snakeyes really really not know what the pagebreak button is? Why doesn’t brick just run for governor of new york already?

Those are just some of the thoughts. Here are some of the more prominent ones i’ve had recently:

-I want to be very wealthy when i’m older. Not because i want cars or a big house, but because i want an ice cream vending machine. And not just any ice cream vending machine, but one of those ones with the vacuum hose. Its an emotional journey every time you want that ice cream sandwich. It goes down into the hole, then you wonder if it got your tasty treat. As it comes up, it wiggles, and you sit there and think, “OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO ITS GOING TO FALL! YOU BASTARD, YOU WASTED MY DOLLAR!” Then it falls, and you feel shame, and then you have a tasty treat. Then you remember that you’re really rich and you should probably just hire a schwann’s man to park his refrigerated truck in your driveway.
Besides, you’re already pissed enough that the vacuum thingy can’t pick up the choco-cone.

-I think if i was a native american, and i went to a restaurant, and the maitre d’ asked me if i had a reservation, i’d probably kill him with my newly acquired thunderstick.

-Ever get scared by cars? I do, but not by engines or sizes. I get scared more by the faces on cars. You know, the smiley faces formed by the head or taillights, license plate, and lines formed by gaps. Some of them are scarier than others. I remember one that ate all my luggage and the spare tire once.

-When it comes to things people do on the weekends, line dancing is only better than circle-jerking because there’s a definitive beginning and end.

-Does anyone think the barenaked ladies are going to adjust their music for inflation? I mean, if you had a million dollars, would you still buy my love? Or would you be worried that because the dollar is weak and oil prices are high, my love wouldn’t be worth so much, and you wouldn’t want to have to fill up your car to drive to my house three days a week. Ill bet you couldn’t even eat as many mac and cheese dinners as you wanted.

-Do you think the subwoofer got its name from a schnauzer barking on a U-boat?

-I want to have lots of babies, but not because i’d be a good father. They’re just the best gift to give. I mean, who is going to be mad about receiving the greatest gift in all the world? The gift of a child’s laughter? I’ll bet thats not the kind of thing you can regift very easily either.

-I think if you get arrested at this time of year, you should plead insanity, in context. I did that, but the judge didn’t think having ‘march madness’ was a good enough reason to jump into my neighbor’s pool.

-If you buy a John Deere product, you should probably throw a fit if it doesn’t come with four legs and antlers, or at least a dead hillbilly.

-There is no excuse for wiping your ass on your roommates pillow. Even if you yell surprise first. Thanks, dave.

-If you’re friendly with a stripper, and you know both her real name and her stripper name, which one do you use if you see her in the grocery store?

-If Erin Esurance was real, i bet she’d be a fantastic trophy wife, except that she probably wouldn’t even know how to cook very well.

-I wonder how long it is before Al Sharpton labels all teachers as racists. I mean, how long can they call it a ‘white board’ before someone notices?

-I can’t decide what would be the greatest part about marrying Ariel, the Little Mermaid. a) Finding out if mermaids have pubes, and if so, if the seaweed matches the clamshell. b) finally solving the mystery of how to bang a mermaid. c) inheriting her father’s trident, and the use of all inherent euphemisms.

-I went to a Dyngus Day (read:crazy polish) celebration this year. Before then, i simply thought a pussywillow was a debilitating condition associated with menopause.

-If things written in braille become worn down so that they can no longer be read by blind people, have they become staille?

-If we had french racecar drivers, how long do you think it would take them to realize that turning right instead of left wouldn’t allow them to retreat?

-A store like spencer’s could make a ton of money of off joke cracker jack, with new prizes at the bottom. Take me out to the ball game, buy me some peanuts and cracker jack, and watch as i sob at the dead kitten in the bottom of the box. Root, root root for the home team? More like root, root root that the used needles i found at the bottom of the cracker jack box weren’t used by someone who was HIV-positive. Here’s to hoping that game doesn’t go into extra innings.

-”Cheerios” is a misnomer. They don’t make me happy at all.

-Farts would be a lot more acceptable if they came out in visible, donut shaped rings of smoke. Then experienced wizards like gandalf could turn them into ships and stuff before they diffused into the atmosphere.

-If your name is Nicolas, and people call you Nick, does that take all the fun out of having a ‘nick-name?’

I know, i’m a little crazy. I’ve got a long drive back to the square state from the apple tomorrow, so there might be more of these to come. Just don’t call me about it. My doctor says i can’t use the phone anymore. I’ve been having too much phone sex, and its given me hearing AIDS.

This entry was posted on Saturday, March 29th, 2008 at 6:44 pm and is filed under Hangover, Self Debate, Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.