so, it obviously needs to be said. i've endured this shit for years now, and frankly, im sick of it. absolutely fucking sick of it. every single fucking day, i swear to god, i have to be witness to it, and its driving me fucking crazy. you've probably seen it too, you may have actually taken part in it. if so, im asking you now to please fucking stop. immediately.
sorority t-shirts.
those fucking things must grow on trees. and they come in every fucking shape and color and design and any fucking thing else you can imagine. and they are made for every fucking event you can possibly imagine... i dont fucking understand. every single event these sorority chicks go through, they make a fucking t-shirt for it. the dance. the cookout. the party. the charity tournament. mom and dad weekend. football games. candince finally getting her period back (she scared us there for awhile!). the annual sorority house orgy (ok, maybe not that one).
seriously.
wtf is up with all the t-shirts.
just stop it.
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i'll say it now, and ive said it before: fuck arsenal
Sunday, April 9 2006
Man Utd 2 - Arsenal 0
i really don't like arsenal. why? because they're a bunch of whiny french bastards. i didn't say they weren't good. but they're still a bunch of whiny french bastards. i know im pretty hard on the french. if your french and you have a problem with it, well, tough shit. just be glad you arent a dirty italian. italians are fucking crazy bastards. did i mention they are dirty? they will either a) stab you, b) throw a blazing road flare at you, or c)stab you and then stick a blazing road flare in your open wound.
bird flu is going to get you in your sleep.
you gonna be crraaaaaaazzzy.
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this ones for murdoc - an oldie
ORGINALLY FROM 6/20/04
Here's my ticket, I'll be sitting next to you, thanks.
I know. You're already thinking it.
But I promise, this time, I have to explain. It's worth it.
Really, really worth it.
It was Saturday Night. Notice the S and the N. Very strategic.
I, myself, Chase, and Luke are downtown. (PBR is a great cheap beer by the way.)
We've had our hand at various bars, no luck at finding that special place.
Somewhere to call home for the rest of the night. And then we found City Bar.
City Bar.
Before I know it, Luke is dancing with half-naked ladies on the bar, and in fact,
is half-naked himself. But I'm straying from the message here.
This is not about Luke's legwork at the helm with baring breasts.
This is about something much, much more serious.
Following the conclusion of Luke's lesson on how to collect #'s, we have a drink.
Last call shortly follows, so we begin recollecting on the night. Stay with me.
This is when it gets interesting.
I take a sip. I look up. I see (we'll call him Virgil. why Virgil? because I'm fucked up and don't remember his real name. but names aren't important here.) Virgil. Virgil is dressed in a white hanes tee and a pair of slightly worn faded glory jeans. his hair short, his shoes...there.) But if you look close, really really close, you notice what most might easily miss. Virgil...has a prosthetic arm. Not one of those really cheesy arms that are made to look exactly like human arms, but one of those straight out of Terminator arms with stainless steel hooks at the end... which are 100% functional. Upon further inspection, you might notice that Virgil's other arm, is... well, invisible. Yes, I said it. Invisible. Spell it out if you need to.
Non-existant is the word which popped into my mind as he sat down at the table with us. Have a beer I thought, but only, I couldn't bring myself to say it. I could only pull his cigarette out of his mouth as he nodded me to do so. (Am I dreaming?) I pulled the cigarette from his mouth and he nodded accordingly. How polite. He then asked us if we had heard of him. Heard of you? Is this a joke? Where are the fucking cameras???
You know the Red and Black? The Red and Black, the school newspaper. Remember? Thursday. That was me. Thursday. That was me.
HOLY SHIT. The Thursday Red and Black. Of course I remember. Out of the last 30 odd Red and Blacks published on Thursday, of course yours sticks out above all. You were the guy on the front WITH NO FUCKING ARMS. AT ALL.
Honestly, I don't remember you being on the front Virgil... but it's really cool that you were. This is when it happened. "Hey man, check this out." And did we ever check it out.
With the ink pen, which was still in his mouth, the pen which I didn't pull out (I pulled the cigarette out, remember?) he began to sketch on the stack of napkins in front of him (which I am almost certain he simply materialized in front of us... where else would he get them?) a portrait of Luke Himself. Luke.
Here, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the actual sketch made by Virgil onto the napkin at City Bar
'Luke Himself' by Virgil, June 2004Now, I don't know if you know Luke or not, but Wow. Those of you who know Luke instantly notice how Virgil brilliantly caught the strong jaw and the relaxed forehead. Friends of Luke also instantly notice the striking resemblance because of LUKES LACK of EYES, NOSE, MOUTH, ETC. PICTURE PERFECT VIRGIL.
Now, as Virigl is working, I can't help but notice the smug looks on Chases and Lukes faces. I sense they are ready to go. Virgil needs a new pen in the middle of his work. A real artist... running out of ink in the middle of a work??? UNHEARD OF. Virgil assures us he will return after borrowing a pen from the bar. He can't get 5 steps away form the table without Luke and Chase streamlining for the exit. I follow. But not without getting our money's worth. Luke left Virgil a dollar bill for his work. A dollar I thought which not only paid from the sketch itself, but then pen as well. So off we run towards the car, myself feeling shame for leaving Virgil mid-stroke, others feeling relief from being away from Virgil.
On the way back to the car, various comments, jokes, etc were made about the unfolding of our night. Honestly, the only thing that could be agreed on was that... YES, IN FACT, VIRGIL HAD ZERO...ZERO ARMS.
Chase decided to let me know that I, in fact, would be going to hell because I referred to Virgil as "the Guy who had one prosthetic arm.... and ONE INVISIBLE ARM....) Remember, I'm going ot hell for this.
To conclude this long story, I want to warn you. Not just warn you. Ready you.
If you happen to come across this man. You may remember him from the Thursday Red and Black. Be kind. Understand. He's got a family to feed, just like the rest of us. ...He just can't use his arms to do it. Why? Because he doesn't have any. That's why. If you run into Virgil (the guy who obviously ran over the "make your arms invisible" mushroom, let him sketch your portrait. It'll only take a few mins, and you'll really be giving a helping hand....to a man with NO hands. You'll feel better about yourself for helping him, he'll feel better about having to hail a taxi tonight with his feet.
Added 06/20/04 @ 2:10 PM
Guess what. Since I'm such a nice guy, I did a little research. And I did it for the benefit of you all. I would hate to see what happened to Virgil happen to you.
So. If you are walking down the street and you see this mushroom:
DO NOT RUN OVER IT!!!!!!!!!
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this bus is going straight to hell, with or without you
I almost got hit by a school bus today. This brings to mind a memory.
When I was 16, I actually did get hit by a school bus. I ran a stop sign. The bus hit me. I hit a tree. The tree fell on top of my truck. My wheel was found a few hundred feet down the road. The $8,000 of damage wasn't what bothered me. I had just become a statistic. Another 16 year old, male driver who was the cause of a major accident. I fucking hate being a statistic.
This time, however, was different. The bus was actually in my lane coming head on. I figured it was fate, or karma, or just a ironic piece of ass-fucking from the gods. I never have liked school busses.
This scares the shit out of me:
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