I am a 28-year-old child. I do not apologize for this because my mom isn't here and you can't make me. Please keep this in mind, as a justification for my behavior.
My 10-year reunion was last weekend (can you believe it's been 10 years already?????). I'd called my old high-school friends, they all promised they would go - one of them went. After I'd RSVPeeing (haha), my friends inform me that the ticket price is a little high and they'll be missing "this one." I don't know which other reunion they're planning on attending, but if it's the 20th , count me out; I hope to be dead due to a life of excess. If I'm not found at the bottom of a pool by then, I'll be too ashamed to show my face. It was $50/ticket for a meal and a couple drinks, which sounded fair to me. Then again, I usually eat gold, washing the gold down with a chilled glass of miracles. It's not that my friends weren't doing well for themselves. It's just that they can only sell everything they own once and $50 buys a lot of illegal substances. Un-der-standable. Besides, how many times can they be expected to hock their Playstation 1?
I arove? Arrived? Forget it, I'll use a different word. I got there over an hour late, you know us Hollywood types and our need to pre-party. By the time we walked in, every table was filled. They wound up finding a small cocktail table for us and set it up next to the bussing tray. (I never fit in during high school. It was nice of symbolism to remember.)
After dinner, I was approached to see if I could perform some of my "comedy thing." When I'd agreed to this prior, I'd thought my "comedy thing" would be a part of some "series of events." No, no, no. They called me up, stood me in the middle of the dance floor, and let me go at it in front of a room of people that loved nothing more, back in the day, than calling me a word that starts with "F" and ends with the inability to marry. At least the DJ took it upon himself to play sidekick, interrupting my punch lines with samples of songs I'd mentioned in previous jokes. Eventually I had to remind him that I am an artist, just like he is, and I'm very serious about my "comedy thing," so if he could please stop screwing up my jokes, I'd stop hating my life.
We had mock elections afterwards and I came out a winner. I won most likely to (I couldn't hear) AND most likely to (I forgot). I was honored. So, if anyone wants to share the spoils, I've a second matching ice cream dish – unused, like its brother - and a seizure-causing "Rock Star" button which will look wonderful pinned on something I'd never consider purchasing. I may have been a loser back then, but now I am a king!
The rest of the night was spent trying to get out of there as fast as possible.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
Dumbo, I envy your feather.
Dear memory,
I remember what it was like having you – which shows promise.
Over the years we've had our ups and downs. I still don't understand why you've forgotten my first kiss, yet recorded every detail of the time I tried having the "my body's going through changes" talk with a redneck kid the summer before 6th grade – the summer I became a man (A man that wouldn't get to first base until…I can't remember. Help me out, you.) I'd rather watch It's Pat all-the-way-through then ever have to recall that awkward talk – I didn't know silence could last that long. Sheesh, I'd rather be in It's Pat. The only other thing I remember about that kid is that his younger brother relished kicking me in the genitals. BEST. SUMMER. EVER!!!
Recently, to assist you, I've started taking Ginkgo Biloba, an herbal supplement that strengthens memory or gets rid of nine dollars every few months – I'm still on the fence.
This is the first vitamin I've stuck to; it's drinkable. Anything I can put in my mouth to affect my brain for good or worse, I'm all over. I only wish it could taste worse, were such a thing possible, to resemble what I'm used to. I'd drink something out of a shoe if it made it cheaper.
The positive: it comes in these dark little vials covered in Asian writings; they make me feel like an old-timey alchemist (Spell check doesn't want me to use the phrase 'old-timey'. To spite spell check, I'm going to use it even more.) I find myself constantly clinking them together, making that old timey "Warriors, come out to plaaaayyyyy" sound, acting like I'm looking through witch ingredients; newt's eye, baby's breath, wing of bat, Tom Green's cancer ball, etc. Oh, it feels old-timey splendid, even better than urinating in a pool and watching someone you hate swim through it…old-timey style. In order to add to the overall apothecary effect, I hope to light some incense, maybe get some dry ice or a Mogwai struggling to get out of a box.
My roommates have started getting bummed that each time before taking my vitamins, I find them, make them pay attention to me, and say, "See you on the other side." I take them twice a day.
So, let me know if it's fixing you, memory. If it isn't, don't say anything about it for the next couple weeks; I still have fourteen bottles left.
Old-Timey Sincerely,
Stu O. T. Rase
p.s. Old timey.
I remember what it was like having you – which shows promise.
Over the years we've had our ups and downs. I still don't understand why you've forgotten my first kiss, yet recorded every detail of the time I tried having the "my body's going through changes" talk with a redneck kid the summer before 6th grade – the summer I became a man (A man that wouldn't get to first base until…I can't remember. Help me out, you.) I'd rather watch It's Pat all-the-way-through then ever have to recall that awkward talk – I didn't know silence could last that long. Sheesh, I'd rather be in It's Pat. The only other thing I remember about that kid is that his younger brother relished kicking me in the genitals. BEST. SUMMER. EVER!!!
Recently, to assist you, I've started taking Ginkgo Biloba, an herbal supplement that strengthens memory or gets rid of nine dollars every few months – I'm still on the fence.
This is the first vitamin I've stuck to; it's drinkable. Anything I can put in my mouth to affect my brain for good or worse, I'm all over. I only wish it could taste worse, were such a thing possible, to resemble what I'm used to. I'd drink something out of a shoe if it made it cheaper.
The positive: it comes in these dark little vials covered in Asian writings; they make me feel like an old-timey alchemist (Spell check doesn't want me to use the phrase 'old-timey'. To spite spell check, I'm going to use it even more.) I find myself constantly clinking them together, making that old timey "Warriors, come out to plaaaayyyyy" sound, acting like I'm looking through witch ingredients; newt's eye, baby's breath, wing of bat, Tom Green's cancer ball, etc. Oh, it feels old-timey splendid, even better than urinating in a pool and watching someone you hate swim through it…old-timey style. In order to add to the overall apothecary effect, I hope to light some incense, maybe get some dry ice or a Mogwai struggling to get out of a box.
My roommates have started getting bummed that each time before taking my vitamins, I find them, make them pay attention to me, and say, "See you on the other side." I take them twice a day.
So, let me know if it's fixing you, memory. If it isn't, don't say anything about it for the next couple weeks; I still have fourteen bottles left.
Old-Timey Sincerely,
Stu O. T. Rase
p.s. Old timey.
How I almost ruined the next 10-12 years of my life (this is about ferrets)
I stopped in at a pet store seeking another pet an attempt to gain another weapon in my constant battle with depression and ennui. The first pet store's selection of varmints and pests didn't sate my specific companion need. So I walked a mile or so iPodless (just to illustrate how determined I was) to a larger PETCO.
In my research for what pet would suit me best, I romanced the idea of a ferret. I thought, this could be the perfect pet for me. It sleeps 18 hours a day, then when awake, steals and hides your valuables, and no matter how much training you do, it WILL release its bowels on everything. What's not to love? For some reason my roommates weren't turned on by the idea of me getting a pet that looks like a rat and snake had fallen head over applicable body part. Even with their very verbal objections I was still romancing the idea.
Then the worst happened. As I was perusing the animals, when adorable struck. One of the ferrets woke upon my arrival, made a b-line to me, and wouldn't leave the area of the cage I was closest to. What was I supposed to do? Just when I built the strength to walk away, a worker saw the weakness in my eye and asked if I'd like to hold him. I don't think I've ever said "yes" louder or more truthfully. As I'm holding this cute-ass fella, the worker starts nagging me about the plight of this other ugly albino ferret. Now my moral dillema begins. Do I go with the ferret I'd had a connection with, or the ferret that has been there the longest, cause no one wants to pay for a weirdo. Now, I'm a weirdo and try my hardest to look out for every weirdo I meet, but for $100 and a 12 year commitment? I didn't know what to do.
So, I did what any rational man would do. And I'm happy to announce that I am the proud owner of a rat that has the worst smelling excrement I've ever smelled and won't stop making disgusting noises with his mouth. Oh me and my inability to recognize destiny.
In my research for what pet would suit me best, I romanced the idea of a ferret. I thought, this could be the perfect pet for me. It sleeps 18 hours a day, then when awake, steals and hides your valuables, and no matter how much training you do, it WILL release its bowels on everything. What's not to love? For some reason my roommates weren't turned on by the idea of me getting a pet that looks like a rat and snake had fallen head over applicable body part. Even with their very verbal objections I was still romancing the idea.
Then the worst happened. As I was perusing the animals, when adorable struck. One of the ferrets woke upon my arrival, made a b-line to me, and wouldn't leave the area of the cage I was closest to. What was I supposed to do? Just when I built the strength to walk away, a worker saw the weakness in my eye and asked if I'd like to hold him. I don't think I've ever said "yes" louder or more truthfully. As I'm holding this cute-ass fella, the worker starts nagging me about the plight of this other ugly albino ferret. Now my moral dillema begins. Do I go with the ferret I'd had a connection with, or the ferret that has been there the longest, cause no one wants to pay for a weirdo. Now, I'm a weirdo and try my hardest to look out for every weirdo I meet, but for $100 and a 12 year commitment? I didn't know what to do.
So, I did what any rational man would do. And I'm happy to announce that I am the proud owner of a rat that has the worst smelling excrement I've ever smelled and won't stop making disgusting noises with his mouth. Oh me and my inability to recognize destiny.
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