Because the most accessible beating material during puberty was music videos, I bring you the new segment I Can't Believe I Used To Beat It To...
Notes:
-Obvious girl group dynamic: three hot dancers pretending to sing, one chubby singer pretending to dance.
-Notice how the singer is the only one hiding her stomach.
-In multiple dance scenes, the singer is hiding behind the other dancers.
-I'm not picking on the singer, she is hot in her own right, but does have noticeable bear claw.
-Short-haired blonde must represent the "bad girl", or head butts oysters.
In conclusion...well chicks were hot, song was catchy, stole that sideways shit from Jamiroqui.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Without a Weight
I've been living in Arizona for over 12 years now, and not once had I ever had any intention of going to Buckeye, AZ. The middle of fuckin nowhere.. But I have friend at work that lives there so I was being a good friend and hanging out there for a bit. It made for an adventurous night...
So driving to my friend's house, I become overwhelmed by the lack of business establisments for miles, seemingly. I was so relieved when I saw a small plaza of businesses that I stopped there for a couple minutes to collect myself. Damn cowboy hats in every car I see driving...except a Mexican in scrubs driving a Geo. Fucking Buckeye, man. So I'm looking for the road Windmill Village Dr. Dirt roads and horse stables to the left of me, septic tanks and power lines to the right. How will I spot this Windmill Village Dr. with the sun glarin in my eyes, miniscule street signs, and a cloud of dust all around? Well its so hick they actually have a giant windmill on the street.
So when I pick up my friend, it all of a sudden becomes a damn mission to find a place to eat. The one plaza in the whole damn town only seemed to have fast food; Wendy's, McDonald's, El Pollo Loco. Finally, there was one sit-down type restaurant...Fuckin Cracker Barrel. Might as well call the plaza Honkeys R Us. The only restaurant that would fit better is Old Country Harvest Buffet. But go in and I'm already thrown off by how the front part is an actual store. But its like one of those thrift stores where you buy used Christmas sweaters and Andy Gibb records.
Anyway the hostess is pretty hot, and she started talking to us, when all of sudden she starts stumbling her words and says "sorry I got thrown off looking at your shirt". I'm wearing my Wonder Years shirt, which always seems to get attention. Minutes later we end up with a hot waitress. She is acting all professional, until she comes back with my raspberry iced tea. She points out that she had gotten some red on her shirt when making my drink. I purposely slammed about 3 raspberry iced teas just so I could flirt with her everytime she got me a drink. I devised a plan to leave my business card with my cell number on the back when I payed for the tip. But it turns out at Country Harvest Barrel Buffet you pay at the cashier, and the waitress vanished.
After paying, my friend and I hung out by my car for a bit, then as we were about to leave we saw the waitress heading out to her car. I was like "fuck, if I leave this car and talk to her, she will think we are trying to date rape her". So anti-climatically she drove off. However, I know she works there and has an Indiana license plate, perhaps I can send her letters written in my blood yet....Future plans of stalking aside, things only get worse. Driving my friend back home was tough cuz he didn't know the area well and we ended up driving around in circles in the wrong neighborhood. But I eventually get my shit together and manage to navigate through that clusterfuck of a maze.
I end up getting semi-lost again leaving the neighborhood passing by 13 year old kids looking at me like I was a cop. When I start going in the right direction all of a sudden I get to where I think I'm supposed to turn right...well I end up driving for 10 minutes in that direction, unable to find the I-10. It's bad too, the further I drive, the more pitchback the roads are and the more it smells like shit. How come people only get lost in scary places? Like I've never gotten lost in the hidden boob palace or at a BBQ pretzel factory. No, I get lost in a town where everyone has a shotgun, shoots trespassers, and somehow don't mind the smell of animal shit in the morning. At first it just smelled like cows, but then I reached the depths of septic plants and pulled a dirt road u-turn.
I finally manage to escape the farms and head back to civilization... I don't know maybe that's not the most interesting story. Maybe it is.. All's I'm sayin is would it kill you to put up some damn street lights, Buckeye. It ain't fuckin 1963. I'm not John F. Kennedy, you aren't Lee Harvey Oswalt, and this isn't Dallas... Too soon?
So driving to my friend's house, I become overwhelmed by the lack of business establisments for miles, seemingly. I was so relieved when I saw a small plaza of businesses that I stopped there for a couple minutes to collect myself. Damn cowboy hats in every car I see driving...except a Mexican in scrubs driving a Geo. Fucking Buckeye, man. So I'm looking for the road Windmill Village Dr. Dirt roads and horse stables to the left of me, septic tanks and power lines to the right. How will I spot this Windmill Village Dr. with the sun glarin in my eyes, miniscule street signs, and a cloud of dust all around? Well its so hick they actually have a giant windmill on the street.
I finally manage to escape the farms and head back to civilization... I don't know maybe that's not the most interesting story. Maybe it is.. All's I'm sayin is would it kill you to put up some damn street lights, Buckeye. It ain't fuckin 1963. I'm not John F. Kennedy, you aren't Lee Harvey Oswalt, and this isn't Dallas... Too soon?
Monday, April 5, 2010
Adventures in Trainrobbing: All this for a movie I don't remember
About 90% of my time spent in Tempe was just going along with the ride. For the most part, I was hanging out with people that I had only recently met and I became open to new experiences. My roommate was a musician so he really broadened my knowledge of music and art. I remember the first day he got to the dorm he put some of his clothes and the room and I thought he was gonna be the weirdest fuckin kid on the planet. He had a couple Beatles shirts and some strange trippy poster. My suitemates and I thought he was just gonna be some nerdy dude that wouldn't like to drink or party or anything. Then one day Mark and I went on a walk and talked about our lives and damn I had this guy read the wrong way. He told me of how he had tried almost every drug out there and other crazy happenings. I went from feeling high mighty from drinking stories and trying weed a few times, to looking like a Mormon next to him.
It was the best class I ever had in college just smokin weed in the dorm room with Mark. He taught me about bands like The Beatles and Pink Floyd and all the drugs those guys used to do. He introduced me to some crazy mindfuck movies and overall just a new appreciation to the good drug-induced states have done for art and culture. A big movie that came out in celebration of such things was The Beatles-inspired Across the Universe. For people that smoke a lot of weed, Across the Universe was a major event that required getting burnt beyond belief to experience a full scale trip of a visual masterpiece. The problem is getting that high tends to have unforseen consequences...
I'd just like to mention right away that the following transcription of events consists of random and blurred memories scrunched together as I can not even start to give an accurate description of each night. So myself, Mark, and our black dealer/neighbor combined product before we were set to go travel to the theatre to catch the flick. It was playing at theatre we hadn't been to before, but according to MapQuest it was in walking distance. And then we got towed up. I believe we had multiple hits on the bong and then smoked 2 blunts with a couple other dudes around the dorm. Note: black dudes are experts at rolling fat blunts. I always watched that dude roll those in awe. Anyway, we were high as fuck and on our way. We walked across campus and it seemed to take about 40 minutes. Then we checked the time and it had actually taken about 20 minutes. We weren't sure where the place was and probably got sidetracked a few times. But we found the theatre and noticed it was awfully empty. Turns out the theatre was closed and we had fucked up checking for the right theatre.
Funny part walking back we noticed a group of kids walking home from a party. They seemed like young high schoolers and they were all dressed up in medical gear, including a couple slutty nurses. These girls are fucked up and probably like 16 at the oldest. They start talking to us and Mark tells the girls that we are assistants for our black friend 50 Cent. This dude looks nothing like 50 Cent, but he has like a chain and white sneakers on so why wouldn't the hussies believe us? I mean Mark once told a girl his name was Samuel L. Jackson and the girl didn't catch on. Anyway we walked with those girls for like 10 minutes telling them about all the rap parties we go to. I remember all the street lights were putting me into a daze and they were kinda blurred like how the visuals are in drug movies. Kinda felt like an out of body experience of some sort. But still the night was failure #1.
I believe it was the next night where we decided to try again. This time our black dealer/tag along friend brought this cute kinda goth-like girl to our room. She had one of those nose rings that goes through the middle of the nose and hangs out both nostrils like a silver booger. Nonetheless she was very attractive. And I had this certain look goin that night that I pulled once in awhile for no particular reason. This girl that lived at the dorm had this tan 50's style hat that I would borrow and I'd wear like a blue dress shirt. The somewhat goth chick was diggin it. My roommate bought a bit of coke from some weird bald kid, crushed up it did lines off this one girl's mirror, which I have been told is the only way to snort any white powder. I didn't try it, but the girl took a hit herself and then we were on the way. This time we were smart and decided to take a cab and to a theatre we were familiar with on Mill. Well waiting for the cab me and this girl are flirting and I wasn't sure how much I should go for it cuz I knew the black dude was trying to get with her. Moral dilemma, and I definitely made the wrong choice. When we got to the theatre we found out that Across the Universe wasn't actually playing for another 2 hours. Like hell we would wait and let the highness dwindle away.
I recall while we were in front of the theatre and the black dude took me aside and asked me if I was trying to get with the girl. I told him I thought she was attractive, but he brought her so he should go ahead. That was stupid of me, I know. But look, I'm Ryan Allen, master of fucking it up. My tales of succeeding are far less interesting anyway. And yes, this was failed attempt #2.
For the third attempt we had our bases covered. But before getting ready for the movie, Mark and I took a trip to FYE. We would always go there and check out cheap movies and a certain cute girl that worked at the counter. Everytime we went there she would flirt with both of us, at the same time. She was definitely one of those girls that looks innocent, but really is freaky as fuck and fists herself with cans of Mountain Dew. I came up with a plan to try to invite her to the movie with us. When we got to the counter, I look at Mark and said out loud "So what time are we going to see Across the Universe". Yes, I realize that is not at all inconspicuous, but it worked. She was like "oh, I want to see that so bad". We asked her if she wanted to come with us later and she could bring a friend. The way it unfolded, man, I was impressed with myself. Never thought I could be that guy. But then she was hesitant and was like "oh, I don't know if I can, blah blah blah work blah blah blah car". We figured she was not interested in getting double teamed by us so that was that. Failure.
But of course that night we ended up seeing the movie and was much less of a trip than we were hoping for. Not to say it was bad or anything, but just not worth all the money spent on taking cabs and buying weed, and passing on cute somewhat goth chicks. But misadventures like that make for good stories and bits and pieces that resemble memories. It's like those dreams you can't really recount even though you just fuckin woke up from it. I'm sure that stuff happened, but would not have been the same with a sober mind. Then again if we weren't walking around with heads full of smoke we would have seen the damn movie the first time.
It was the best class I ever had in college just smokin weed in the dorm room with Mark. He taught me about bands like The Beatles and Pink Floyd and all the drugs those guys used to do. He introduced me to some crazy mindfuck movies and overall just a new appreciation to the good drug-induced states have done for art and culture. A big movie that came out in celebration of such things was The Beatles-inspired Across the Universe. For people that smoke a lot of weed, Across the Universe was a major event that required getting burnt beyond belief to experience a full scale trip of a visual masterpiece. The problem is getting that high tends to have unforseen consequences...
Funny part walking back we noticed a group of kids walking home from a party. They seemed like young high schoolers and they were all dressed up in medical gear, including a couple slutty nurses. These girls are fucked up and probably like 16 at the oldest. They start talking to us and Mark tells the girls that we are assistants for our black friend 50 Cent. This dude looks nothing like 50 Cent, but he has like a chain and white sneakers on so why wouldn't the hussies believe us? I mean Mark once told a girl his name was Samuel L. Jackson and the girl didn't catch on. Anyway we walked with those girls for like 10 minutes telling them about all the rap parties we go to. I remember all the street lights were putting me into a daze and they were kinda blurred like how the visuals are in drug movies. Kinda felt like an out of body experience of some sort. But still the night was failure #1.
I believe it was the next night where we decided to try again. This time our black dealer/tag along friend brought this cute kinda goth-like girl to our room. She had one of those nose rings that goes through the middle of the nose and hangs out both nostrils like a silver booger. Nonetheless she was very attractive. And I had this certain look goin that night that I pulled once in awhile for no particular reason. This girl that lived at the dorm had this tan 50's style hat that I would borrow and I'd wear like a blue dress shirt. The somewhat goth chick was diggin it. My roommate bought a bit of coke from some weird bald kid, crushed up it did lines off this one girl's mirror, which I have been told is the only way to snort any white powder. I didn't try it, but the girl took a hit herself and then we were on the way. This time we were smart and decided to take a cab and to a theatre we were familiar with on Mill. Well waiting for the cab me and this girl are flirting and I wasn't sure how much I should go for it cuz I knew the black dude was trying to get with her. Moral dilemma, and I definitely made the wrong choice. When we got to the theatre we found out that Across the Universe wasn't actually playing for another 2 hours. Like hell we would wait and let the highness dwindle away.
I recall while we were in front of the theatre and the black dude took me aside and asked me if I was trying to get with the girl. I told him I thought she was attractive, but he brought her so he should go ahead. That was stupid of me, I know. But look, I'm Ryan Allen, master of fucking it up. My tales of succeeding are far less interesting anyway. And yes, this was failed attempt #2.
For the third attempt we had our bases covered. But before getting ready for the movie, Mark and I took a trip to FYE. We would always go there and check out cheap movies and a certain cute girl that worked at the counter. Everytime we went there she would flirt with both of us, at the same time. She was definitely one of those girls that looks innocent, but really is freaky as fuck and fists herself with cans of Mountain Dew. I came up with a plan to try to invite her to the movie with us. When we got to the counter, I look at Mark and said out loud "So what time are we going to see Across the Universe". Yes, I realize that is not at all inconspicuous, but it worked. She was like "oh, I want to see that so bad". We asked her if she wanted to come with us later and she could bring a friend. The way it unfolded, man, I was impressed with myself. Never thought I could be that guy. But then she was hesitant and was like "oh, I don't know if I can, blah blah blah work blah blah blah car". We figured she was not interested in getting double teamed by us so that was that. Failure.
But of course that night we ended up seeing the movie and was much less of a trip than we were hoping for. Not to say it was bad or anything, but just not worth all the money spent on taking cabs and buying weed, and passing on cute somewhat goth chicks. But misadventures like that make for good stories and bits and pieces that resemble memories. It's like those dreams you can't really recount even though you just fuckin woke up from it. I'm sure that stuff happened, but would not have been the same with a sober mind. Then again if we weren't walking around with heads full of smoke we would have seen the damn movie the first time.
Tiebreaker
So Douchebag of the Month had a split vote between Ben Roethlisberger and guy in white truck. Seemed like most people who voted for guy in white truck were voting that way because everyone has had encounters with a douchebag driving a lifted white truck. Its almost like they deserve a lifetime achievement award. But it's an award primarily based on the actions or attention received for douchery within the month's span. Therefore, for being a fat, sexually assaulting, drunken asshole pisstaker...I'm giving the award to Roethlisberger. You got a problem with it get more people to vote next time. Plus it is possible that Ben drives a white truck...fits the bill, the very fat bill.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
