I probably don't have to tell you people, but as the heat in this city reaches stupid, brain-dampening temperatures, just like it does every summer, people are gonna commit some appropriately proportioned idiocy. Personally, I can't wait to join the ranks of suckers dragging my sorry ass out of bed to go to work to grease the wheels of this terrible machine, only to reach that oh so dangerous quiting time, when we all join that other group of society we briefly joke about (leaving out key information for the sissy-eared and mostly-pansy) at lunchtime with our co-workers, most of which are passing acquaintances whom we'll never see after we leave the position, and who just couldn't understand. So why not regal them of tales of moon-howling, random beverage-injesting, and uber-lunacy?
Good question...
I'm not gonna lie, what the hell would that do? I might as well warn those around me. I can't help but relive my evening-befores when some middle-aged, obviously-never-chugged-straight-liquor-and-fell-off-a-dock-before, TV-guide-subscriber asks what I did for fun over the weekend. At least I'm honest.
Hey, it's not like I didn't sit there and listen about their evening at a super-intriguing, mega-niffty tea party with the Smiths (you know which ones you are,) the Jones (you pasty-white loaves,) and how they conversed with their inside-voices about their khaki-exploits, so guess what?
Now you're gonna hear what I did last night.
Hold on to your socks, your shoes, wallet, genitalia, logical thinking, and your house key...
But remember, you only got two hands.
LET THE OPENING CEREMONIES BEGIN.
ISSUE ZERO, REPORTING FOR DUTY...
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1 comment:
this is hilarious. Great stuff.
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