ButtlordFornicusLord of Bondage and PainRegistered Userregular
edited April 2013
here's odds
1:1 something gets stolen
2:1 it's from another player
5:1 i kick someone out for cussin up a storm
10:1 i ban someone for selling cards
1000:1 someone tries snagging a trade binder and my manager spears him (this happened once)
10,000:1 it's a perfectly uneventful day and i don't have an aneurysm before noon
out of all of these "kick a dude out for cussin up a storm" is the one i'm hoping for the most
you drove multiple hours to play in the yugioh regional? should've followed the rules then shitlord~
When I was around ten I took my grandpa and his buddy down into this local fishing spot where you could regularly catch 20 pound catfish. It was down in a deep ravine, where you could walk out onto this sandbar.
So my grandpas buddy starts talking about how it reminded him of when he was in Vietnam, when his squad got pinned down by a sniper for two days in a very similar ravine. No big deal I loved war stories.
So we got about an hour in and had started running out of bait so the guy was going to go back to the car to grab some more bait. It took us a few minutes to realize that he had gone down the wrong path, and had gone into the forest instead of back up the ravine. We figured he would realize his mistake soon enough.
We got to a point where twenty minutes had passed without him coming back.
My grandpa sent me to go run down the trail to find him, to make sure he hadnt hurt himself.
I found him a few minutes in. He had slipped in the mud and hit his head off some tree roots, his eyes were kinda glazed over and his hair was caked with blood.
Apparently he had given himself a concussion, because soon as he saw me he pulled out his fishing knife and started screaming at me in Vietnamese. So I, naturally, freaked out, which was apparently enough to get him to wake up a bit. He just sat down and just started to plead with me to save some guy im guessing was his military buddy.
So I ran back to my grandpa, and we spent the next hour trying to convince a vet he wasnt in Vietnam and that he should put the knife away.
+8
StraightziHere we may reign secure, and in my choice,To reign is worth ambition though in HellRegistered Userregular
I'm pretty pumped for Saturday. It's also Derby Day and I have a Titus Andronicus show to go to that night. So I get to have punk rock free comic book day while soused with mint juleps.
EVERY GODDAMNED CHRISTMAS MY DAD AND MY UNCLE RON GET INTO IMPORTANT ARGUMENTS ABOUT POLITICS AND THE BEST AIRPORTS IN ZURICH AND WHICH PRESIDENTS ARE ASSHOLES IN PERSON AND THAT SORT OF THING. MY OTHER UNCLE D. IS KIND OF THE BLACK SHEEP IN THE FAMILY AND WE DON'T PAY MUCH ATTENTION TO HIM.
ANYWAY THIS ONE CHRISTMAS MY DAD & RON ARE REALLY GOING AT IT, SOMETHING ABOUT AFRICA, WHEN UNCLE D. WALKS INTO THE MIDDLE OF THINGS GINGERLY CARRYING THIS TAPE LIKE IT WAS A DYING CHILD AND LOOKS COYLY AT MY DAD AND RON AND SAYS "SO, I BET YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT SONG IS THIS!!"
AND MY DAD AND RON COULDN'T CARE LESS AND SOMEONE SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT HOW THERE'S NO TIME BUT UNCLE D. IS ALREADY BREAKING THE TAPE DECK AND JAMMING IN HIS PRECIOUS TAPE. HE FLASHES US A SLY LOOK AND SAYS "I BET NOBODY HERE WILL GET THIS" AND PRESSES PLAY
IT'S FUCKING 'HEY JUDE'. 19 PEOPLE IN THE LIVING ROOM ALL SAY 'IT'S HEY JUDE' AT THE SAME TIME AND LOOK AGGRAVATED.
So at the age of 16 I met my future wife. She was beautiful, funny, smart, and taken. So I played my time as a friend, and eventually met another girl. As my new relationship grew, hers fell apart, and I was there for her. When the relationship I was in fell apart she returned the favor.
We dated for two years. She had a hard home life. Her parents were divorced, her dad never around (though through my prodding they reconciled later), and her mom was heavily abusive... her file was as thick as a Harry Potter book that sat in the CPS office. To say the least, there was... resistance to our relationship, but we made it through. We were made aware of the fact that she was pregnant in October 2001, we were married on my 18th birthday in April 2002.
Having a new family and no marketable skills to support them with, I entered the US Navy in October of 2002, serving my six year contract until 2008. Throughout that time, we were a happy family... until 2006 when our second son was born and her father passed away from lung cancer. The stress and pent up emotion finally caught up to us and things started to degrade. We knew that we were going to move back home after I was done with my contract, and my eldest boy was about to be school age, so we had the idea for her to come back here a year early... both to get my son set up in school and to get a bit of a break from each other, a cooling off period.
During that year she talked to me about going to college, an idea that I was all for. She eventually went and ended up getting an associates in Automotive Repair... a degree that wouldn't help her out too much but I was just happy for her. Problem, though. While at school she met another guy, and they hit it off. He's ten years her senior, has a record for grand theft, has a myriad of medical problems, and can't keep a job. Our divorce was finalized in June of 09, they were married October of last year.
So now I live at my Dad's place, go to school and am trying to get a degree, work whenever I can, and just try and get by. Why am I living at my Dad's if I make enough money from the GI Bill and working? That's because I'm paying her insurance, her rent, and her electric bill, not to mention child support. Why isn't she or her new husband paying for any of that? She's a woman with a degree for a very male biased profession so can only get retail Mcjobs, and he's worthless.
So why put up with all of it? Why didn't I fight for her when she was in college?
All I ever wanted for her and my kids was for them to be happy. I didn't fight for her because I wasn't making her happy, so if she was happier with someone else I could deal with it. I pay for all her bills because I can't stand the thought of her being homeless or not able to buy food, not mentioning my children in the same respect.
It's not a great, much less healthy, existence, but she and the kids are relatively happy...
And that's all I ever wanted.
Hugs?
Hugs.
+14
HacksawJ. Duggan Esq.Wrestler at LawRegistered Userregular
EVERY GODDAMNED CHRISTMAS MY DAD AND MY UNCLE RON GET INTO IMPORTANT ARGUMENTS ABOUT POLITICS AND THE BEST AIRPORTS IN ZURICH AND WHICH PRESIDENTS ARE ASSHOLES IN PERSON AND THAT SORT OF THING. MY OTHER UNCLE D. IS KIND OF THE BLACK SHEEP IN THE FAMILY AND WE DON'T PAY MUCH ATTENTION TO HIM.
ANYWAY THIS ONE CHRISTMAS MY DAD & RON ARE REALLY GOING AT IT, SOMETHING ABOUT AFRICA, WHEN UNCLE D. WALKS INTO THE MIDDLE OF THINGS GINGERLY CARRYING THIS TAPE LIKE IT WAS A DYING CHILD AND LOOKS COYLY AT MY DAD AND RON AND SAYS "SO, I BET YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT SONG IS THIS!!"
AND MY DAD AND RON COULDN'T CARE LESS AND SOMEONE SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT HOW THERE'S NO TIME BUT UNCLE D. IS ALREADY BREAKING THE TAPE DECK AND JAMMING IN HIS PRECIOUS TAPE. HE FLASHES US A SLY LOOK AND SAYS "I BET NOBODY HERE WILL GET THIS" AND PRESSES PLAY
IT'S FUCKING 'HEY JUDE'. 19 PEOPLE IN THE LIVING ROOM ALL SAY 'IT'S HEY JUDE' AT THE SAME TIME AND LOOK AGGRAVATED.
UNCLE D. LOOKS AT US ALL IMPISHLY AND SAYS 'NO'.
SO IT'S CHRISTMAS AND MY FAMILY IS PLAYING 'SCATTERGORIES' AND EVERYONE IS DRUNK, ESPECIALLY MY STEP-UNCLE RICK. HE'S JUST RAVING DRUNK. IT'S CRAZY. SOMEONE ROLLS THE LETTER 'F' AND WE ALL SPEND 2 MINUTES TRYING TO FILL OUT THE BLANKS. THE TIMER DINGS AND WE GO AROUND TELLING EACH OTHER OUR ANSWERS.
THE FIRST CATEGORY IS 'VEGETABLE'. WE ALL GO AROUND AND WE GET TO DRUNK STEP-UNCLE RICK WHO LOOKS AT US ALL SMUGLY, DIGS UP THIS WIDE GRIN, AND THEN SAYS "FUCKING CARROTS!! BAHABDIUAGHF(*PA#HIOH BHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" AND LAUGHS LIKE A GODDAMNED DEMON KING FOR NEARLY A FULL MINUTE. ONCE HE'S SETTLED DOWN WE MOVE ON. THE NEXT CATEGORY IS 'THINGS YOU FIND ON THE BEACH' OR SOMETHING, AND WHEN WE GET TO RICK AGAIN WE ARE GIVEN THIS CONSPIRATORIAL WINK AND NOD, AND THEN HE SCREAMS OUT "FUCKING TOWELS, MAN!!! BBAHAHAHAHHAHA UAHDIUAHIUHAIUH AHAHAHAHAHA" AND AGAIN WE ARE UNNERVED BY HIS CRAZED LUNATIC LAUGHTER.
THIS GOES ON FOR SEVERAL ROUNDS! IT GETS TIRED REALLY QUICKLY! FINALLY, AROUND ROUND 7 OR 8 WE GET TO THE CATEGORY 'OCCUPATION'. WE GO AROUND AND GIVE EACH OTHER LOOKS OF DREAD AS DRUNK RICK'S TURN APPROACHES. FINALLY IT'S HIS TURN. WE BRACE OURSELVES FOR THE INEVITABLE 'FUCKING DOCTOR, MAN!!' OR 'FUCKING BUS DRIVER SHIT YEAH!!'. THE TENSION IS TERRIFIC. DRUNK STEP-UNCLE RICK CLEARS HIS THROAT, SHOOTS US A MANIACLE LOOK, AND THEN SAYS QUIETLY AND CALMY 'forensic scientist' AND THEN GIVES A CALM NOD TO THE PERSON ON HIS LEFT.
HE THEN GETS UP, WALKS INTO THE KITCHEN, AND FALLS DOWN ALL THE STAIRS INTO THE BASEMENT AND PASSES OUT.
+25
MrMonroepassed outon the floor nowRegistered Userregular
SO THIS ONE TIME I'M OUT IN MY NEIGHBOR'S DRIVEWAY WITH MY BEST FRIEND KYLE AND HE'S TEACHING ME HOW TO RAISE A PUCK. WE'RE USING A REAL PUCK AND HE'S STANDING ABOUT 15 FEET DOWN FROM ME. I KEEP HITTING THE PUCK AS HARD AS I CAN BUT I CAN'T RAISE IT. KYLE IS JUST STANDING THERE ACTING ALL SUPERIOR AND GIVING ME INANE ADVICE AND PASSING THE PUCK BACK TO ME EACH TIME IT SLIDES OVER TO HIM.
ANYWAY I REMEMBER I GOT ALL FRUSTRATED AND DECIDED THAT THIS WOULD BE IT - I WAS GOING TO RAISE THAT FUCKING PUCK. SO I WIND BACK AND TAKE MAYBE THE HARDEST SLAPSHOT OF MY LIFE. THE PUCK RAISES MAGICALLY. UP UNTIL THIS VERY SECOND NEITHER KYLE OR I REALIZE THAT IF I EVER DID GET THE PUCK IN THE AIR, KYLE WOULD BE IN SOME TROUBLE.
TIME PRETTY MUCH SLOWED DOWN FOR ME. THE PUCK IS A GOOD TWO FEET IN THE AIR AND IS MAKING A BEE LINE FOR KYLE'S DICK. I REMEMBER SEEING KYLE'S EYES OPEN UP VERY WIDE, AND I SEEM TO RECALL MYSELF SHOUTING OUT SOME OBVIOUS INSTRUCTIONS ABOUT HOW HE NEEDS TO STEP ASIDE RIGHT NOW.
KYLE ISN'T VERY BRIGHT, AND IS NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO MY INSTRUCTIONS. I CAN SEE THE GEARS TURNING IN HIS LITTLE BRAIN, AS HE TRIES TO COME UP WITH SOME SORT OF SOLUTION TO THE IMMINENT DANGER HE IS IN. "STEP ASIDE, KYLE, STEP ASIDE!!" I AM YELLING EARNESTLY.
KYLE EYES THE PUCK ONE LAST TIME AS IT FLIES A BILLION MILES AN HOUR TOWARDS HIS BALLS, AND AT THE LAST MINUTE DROPS TO HIS KNEES AND TAKES THE FUCKING THING IN THE FOREHEAD. KNOCKS HIM RIGHT THE FUCK OUT.
JC of DII think we're fucked up.I know I am.Registered Userregular
This Davesecretary story kills me every time:
SO IN JR. HIGH SCHOOL A BUNCH OF US TOOK THE CITY BUS TO SCHOOL AND BACK BECAUSE THERE WEREN’T ENOUGH SCHOOL BUSSES MAKING THE TRIP TO WYCHWOOD (WHERE A BUNCH OF US LIVED). ANYWAY THERE WAS THIS ONE GIRL NAMED CINDY WHO WE ALL HATED. SHE WAS ENORMOUS (WHICH OBVIOUSLY ISN’T A GOOD REASON TO HATE SOMEONE BUT THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU’RE 12) AND SHE HAD ABSOLUTELY NO TONE TO HER VOICE. SERIOUSLY. WHEN SHE SPOKE IT SOUNDED LIKE A TRASH COMPACTOR HAD JUST COME TO LIFE AND WAS TRYING TO COMMUNICATE. AND SHE WAS DUMB AND PERPETUALLY AGGRAVATED AND JUST NO FUN TO BE AROUND.
SO ANYWAY THIS ONE DAY WE’RE ON THE BUS HEADING HOME. THE CITY BUS DRIVERS HATED TO PICK US UP BECAUSE WE’RE LOUD NOISY KIDS, AND THE DRIVER THAT GOT SHAFTED WITH THE 3:45 STOP AT HADLEY JR HIGH ALWAYS TRIED TO BE ABOUT 5 MINUTES EARLY SO THAT HE’D ONLY PICK UP THE STUDENTS WHO DIDN’T DICK AROUND IN THE LOCKER BAYS AND LEFT THE SCHOOL THE MINUTE THE BELL RANG AND RAN UP THAT FUCKING HILL IN ORDER TO CATCH THE CITY BUS.
ANYWAY YEAH, THIS ONE TIME THE BUS DRIVER IS ON TIME SO WE’RE ALL WAITING FOR HIM AND WE ALL PILE INTO THE BUS. CINDY IS ALWAYS THE LAST ONE ON, NOT BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T LEAVE THE SCHOOL ON TIME, BUT BECAUSE SHE CAN’T RUN UPHILL VERY WELL DUE TO HER SIZEABLE GIRTH. SO SHE’D ALWAYS BE THE ONE WHO HAD TO STAND ON THE CITY BUS. SO ANYWAY THIS PARTICULAR TIME I’M SITTING IN THE VERY BACK ROW, DEAD CENTER, AND CINDY IS STANDING ABOUT 10 FEET IN FRONT OF ME.
MY FRIEND BEN AND I ARE JUST BEING RUTHLESS TO HER. DEFINITELY NOT COOL, BUT AGAIN WE’RE 12 AND ENJOYING OURSELVES. CINDY, ALWAYS IN A FOUL MOOD TO BEGIN WITH, IMMEDIATELY STARTS FROTHING AT THE MOUTH AND STARTS MAKING THESE DISTINCT GURGLING NOISES SHE MAKES WHEN SHE’S IRRITATED. BEN AND I DON’T STOP AND KEEP MAKING JOKES AT HER EXPENSE. CINDY’S BOMBASTIC CHASSIS BEGINS TO SHAKE AND QUIVER ALL OVER AND HER LITTLE BEEDY EYES NARROW. THIS IS ALWAYS A SIGN THAT WE’RE APPROACHING THE APEX OF HER WRATH, AND TODAY IS NO EXCEPTION.
VERY SUDDENLY CINDY STRAIGHTENS UP AND BASICALLY SCREAMS OUT IN THAT ROBOTIC WHEEZE OF HERS “LOOK OUT EVERYBODY!!! IMA GONNA KICK DAVID IN THE FACE!!!!!”
I KIND OF SIT UP SMARTLY AND FEEL LIKE I’VE JUST COME OUT OF A DREAM OR SOMETHING. HAVING THIS MASSIVE BEAST OF A WOMAN KICK ME IN THE FACE IS A SOBERING THOUGHT. I’M CONTEMPLATING THE WHOLE SITUATION WHEN CINDY BEGINS HER CHARGE AND SLOWLY PLOWS TOWARDS ME LIKE A LINEBACKER. I’M THINKING I MIGHT HAVE 5, 10 SECONDS BEFORE I’M ON THE RECEIVING END OF A FLABBY FOOT WHEN CINDY SUDDENLY KICKS FORWARD.
AT THIS POINT SHE IS STILL A GOOD 9 FEET AWAY FROM ME. I HAVE NEVER SEEN SOMEONE MISJUDGE DISTANCE SO BADLY IN MY LIFE. SHE HAS TAKEN MAYBE 2 STEPS, TOPS, AND HAS SOMEHOW DECIDED HER TONELESS WRETCH OF A LEG IS GOING TO REACH ME. OF COURSE IT DOESN’T, BUT WHAT’S INTERESTING IS THAT SHE DOES MANAGE TO KICK THIS 80 YEAR OLD WOMAN SITTING QUIETLY RIGHT IN THE FACE.
THE WOMAN JUST SORT OF TOPPLES OVER BACKWARDS AND IS TOTALLY LIMP. I AM POSITIVE HER NECK MUST BE BROKEN IN A THOUSAND PLACES, IF HER SKULL ISN’T FRACTURED ALL TOGETHER. CINDY IS BELLOWING LIKE A HARPOONED WHALE, EYES CLOSED. SHE ISN’T EVEN LOOKING AND SHE’S STILL ON THE RAMPAGE. SHE TURNS ABOUT 10 DEGREES TO HER LEFT AND KICKS AGAIN. ONCE MORE I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER IF SHE HONESTLY THINKS SHE’S ANYWHERE NEAR ME.
THIS TIME CINDY KICKS THIS POOR KID’S DISCMAN RIGHT OUT OF HIS HANDS. I REMEMBER THE DISCMAN DESCRIBED THIS BEAUTIFUL ARC ACROSS THE BUS AND PULLED THE KIDS EARPHONES OUT OF HIS EARS. HE LOOKED UP IN A HURRY, I CAN TELL YOU THAT MUCH, AND TURNED GODDAMNED WHITE WHEN HE SAW CINDY IN FRONT OF HIM, HER MONSTROUS MOUTH OPEN AS WIDE AS A HIPPO’S. I FELT AWFUL FOR HIM.
THEN CINDY KIND OF OPENS HER EYES AND QUIETS DOWN. THE BUS DRIVER IS PUSHING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CRUSH OF ASTONISHED KIDS TOWARDS CINDY. THE OLD LADY I SERIOUSLY THINK IS DEAD, AND IS LYING VERY STILL WITH HER HEAD TILTED BACK TO AN UNNATURAL DEGREE. THE BUS DRIVER GRABS CINDY BY THE SHOULDERS, TURNS HER AROUND AND MAKES HER GET OFF THE BUS.
THEN HE WALKS UP TO THE OLD WOMAN, GRABS HER BY THE SHOULDERS, SHAKES HER LIKE A CAN OF PAINT AND SHE IS MIRACULOUSLY REVIVED AND LOOKS A LITTLE DAZED BUT OTHERWISE OKAY. THEN THE DRIVER SAYS SOMETHING MENACING TO BEN AND I, TURNS AROUND ABRUPTLY AND MARCHES BACK TO THE FRONT OF THE BUS. WE TAKE OFF.
I TAKE A QUICK LOOK OUT OF THE WINDOW AND SEE CINDY STANDING ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. SHE’S SWINGING THOSE COLOSSAL ARMS OF HERS AROUND LIKE LOGS AND IS DEFINITELY STILL SCREAMING AND SHOUTING OUT NONSENSE. BEN YELLS OUT ‘HEY CINDY!!’ AND SHE TURNS TO US AND THE LAST THING SHE SEES THAT DAY IS BEN HOLD UP HER KNAPSACK TO THE WINDOW WITH A GIANT GRIN ON HIS FACE.
SO I'M HANGING OUT IN THE BASEMENT READING AND MY DAD COMES DOWNSTAIRS AND HE LOOKS AT ME AND HE SAYS "DANGER POINT!! YOU LEFT THE OVEN ON!" AND I'M ALL LIKE "DANGER POINT?"
Tossrocktoo weird to livetoo rare to dieRegistered Userregular
So in high school I had a debilitating crush on this girl (this is a theme in my life), let's call her Bianca. It was pretty bad. I nearly wrote her an anonymous letter after graduation with a bunch of really overwrought shit because I was dumb. Thank god I wasn't dumb enough to actually follow through on it.
Sophomore year of college rolls around (which was 2007) and pathetically enough, I still have some Feelings for her. Not ever having kissed a girl exacerbated the situation, no doubt. Around October, a flyer shows up in our apartment (courtesy one of my roommates) for something called Monster Massive. For those of you unaware, Monster Massive is an annual Halloween rave held at the time in the Los Angeles Memorial Sports Arena and surrounding area. I had never been to an event like it, and really hadn't even been to that many plain old parties. However, the confluence of several unrelated reasons convinced me that I should go, those reasons being:
1. Infected Mushroom was playing, who, despite my extremely limited exposure to electronic music at the time, I was actually a fan of
2. There was a meetup thread for the event on Something Awful and I thought maybe I could meet up with some cool dudez
3. Last and by far the most convincing of all was the fact that I remembered that Bianca, and really more her boyfriend Martin, were at UCLA and into these "rave" things and hey maybe there was a chance I would see her there! Yes, I was this pathetic, and also idiotic - at the time Monster Massive was pulling 30k+ attendees, so the chances of randomly running into someone is basically zero. It can be hard to meet up with people even when you have a plan to do so, as I would find out later.
So, I bought the ticket, and asked a friend at UCLA if I could stay with him that weekend. At the appointed time, I took fucking Amtrak from San Diego up to LA, then public transportation from the station to campus (neither my friend nor I had a car), and hunkered down to sleep on the spare bed vacated by my friend's roommate, who was visiting family that weekend.
Day of, I bummed some cafeteria food off my friend's account and got ready for the show, which is to say, put some weed (the hardest drug I'd ever even seen) in a bag and put the bag in my pocket. I didn't even have a costume for a Halloween rave, because as previously discussed, I was afflicted with an extreme case of lameness. To get there, I decided I would take the bus, because that's what you do when you don't have a car, right? This ended up taking probably an hour and a half on two different buses, but finally, I arrived. Keep in mind, I was completely alone, a helpless nerdlet completely out of my depth and with no understanding of my surroundings or the subculture I was diving headfirst into.
The line to get in was, as you might expect if you are smarter than I was at the time, heinously long. That, combined with my time spent in public transportation hell, meant I didn't get in until quite late. After trying to get my bearings and wandering around a bit, I went to where the Something Awful meetup was supposed to be happening. Of course, the meeting spot was actually quite a large area, and crawling with people, many clearly high as fuck. After half-heartedly asking a dozen or so people if there were stairs in their house, and being told sorry I don't sell drugs a dozen times in response, I gave it up as a fool's errand. Somewhat discouraged, I figured I might as well get inside for Infected Mushroom, still alone and stone-cold sober.
"Inside" was bugfuck crazy. A veritable sea of people filled the entirety of the Arena. People pressing against you from every side. Moving through the crowd was basically impossible, and I decided fuck it, and let the ebb and flow of human bodies carry me where it may. Turns out, I was in a current headed into the heart of the crowd, which was cool, because that was when Infected Mushroom came on. I'd like to say they were good, but honestly I remember nothing of the set. What I do remember is that at some point, I noticed a girl's hair through the throng of people. I noticed because it looked a lot like Bianca's. I had spent countless hours stealing furtive glances at her in AP classes and had every aspect of her appearance engraved into my mind's eye. Her hair was a sort of dirty blond, with (natural) streaks of lighter blond running through it.
Anyway, I was just thinking to myself that that girl's hair looked quite a lot like Bianca's, when she turned and I saw her face; and of course, there in the middle of thirty thousand screaming people, with some infinitesimal probability, it was her. "Kevin?!", she wonders just below shouting volume. "Hi!" I respond. "Oh my god! It's you!" she says, bemusement written across her face. She signals her boyfriend (who I was also friends with in high school) who looks at me with incredulity and waves, and I wave back. And then the crowd carries us apart. That was the last time I saw her, that night or afterwards.
***
That chance meeting was the last item on my vague plan for the night, which, incidentally, did not include a way to get back to UCLA. I didn't realize that public transportation had stopped running already, so my go-to "uhhh... bus?" method of transportation was out. Also my phone was dying. Also I had about $10 in cash on me. Also the Sports Arena is located in a pretty rough part of town, and it's 17 miles from there to UCLA, so not really a feasible walk anyway, especially at 4:00 AM (as it was now approaching).
I knew Bianca and Martin went to UCLA, so I figured maybe I could get a ride back with them. Unfortunately, I didn't have either of their numbers. Feeling resourceful, I text a friend of mine and ask him to look up Martin's number on Facebook (which was new and exciting at the time). He comes through, and I fire off a text - how are they getting back to UCLA, and could I possibly hitch a ride? After an agonizing wait, he reponds that their group is taking a limo back, and sorry, the seats are all spoken for.
At this point, I begin to realize that I am in a bad situation. $10 is not going to cover a taxi, there is no public transportation, I have no ride. Maybe I could have a taxi drive to an ATM, get more cash, then have him drive me home? But I wouldn't even know where to tell him to go - keep in mind, this is before the iPhone even existed. I decide that, seeing as we are in LA and there are lots of young, collegeish-aged people here, some of them must be going back to UCLA. If I just ask enough, someone will say yes and help me out in my time of need! This proved to be a naive assumption. I must have asked at least a hundred people, and the ones who actually responded with 'no' were the nice ones. I was considering finding a glowstick, cracking it open, and writing "UCLA?" on my chest, when a guy I had just asked responded with, "No... why?"
Encouraged by someone showing even the barest interest in my situation, I explained to him that I was an idiot and had no way to get home. He told me that he was from Orange County and just coming down off an acid trip, but his friends who drove could give me a ride back, we'd just have to wait for them to come out. Needless to say, I was incredibly grateful. We settled down by a parking lot to wait for his friends, and he asked if I had any weed. What luck! That tiny bag of weed I'd brought and never used for anything! Unfortunately, we had no way to smoke it, so my new friend bummed a cigarette off a passerby and commenced emptying it and refilling it with weed. This was apparently much more difficult while coming down off acid.
Just as he finished that up, his friends arrived, and I learned that apparently, the ones with the car were a deaf couple. (Aside: you're probably thinking, wait, why on Earth would deaf people go to a live music event? Apparently, even though they can't hear the music, with large enough speakers they can physically feel the bass, and enjoy dancing to it. I found this pretty interesting). My friend explains the situation with the help of a T-mobile Sidekick (which were apparently quite popular in the deaf community, back in the pre-iPhone days), and I offer to give them my ten dollars for gas and my eternal gratitude. They hesitantly accept me on board, and off we go.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get to UCLA, and neither did anyone in the car. Worsening this is the fact that, did I mention, the driver is deaf and any communication is being done over a T-Mobile Sidekick. There is apparently some kind of proto-GPS-navigation service on the Sidekick, but it's not really working, and competing against communication for usage of the phone. It's probably 4:30 AM now, we're not sure where we're going on the snarl of LA freeways, and things are getting tense. If I were telling this story in person I would do a hilarious yet deeply offensive impression of a deaf person expressing displeasure at this point.
In what I can only ascribe to divine intervention, we somehow manage to reach UCLA. I make a hasty exit, leaving them with my $10 and the remainders of the weed, thinking they probably needed it more than I did. I walk to my friend's dorm, and of course, the door is locked. My phone's battery has maybe 1% left. I call my friend, but hey, it's nearly 5:00 AM, no answer. I call again, no answer. I call again, and then my phone dies. I'm thinking about scaling the building, when finally I see him tromping down the stairs to let me in. We return to his room in silence, and I sleep the sleep of the dead. The next day, I leave the cigaweed (which I still had) on his desk as thanks, and return to San Diego with literally every available resource spent.
On the plus side, that night taught me a valuable lesson about the importance of planning.
+11
knitdanIn ur baseKillin ur guysRegistered Userregular
Yeah the all caps thing isn't getting old at all.
“I was quick when I came in here, I’m twice as quick now”
-Indiana Solo, runner of blades
SO BRENT AND I FINISH PLAYING THIS SHOW AND WE MAKE LIKE $20 SO WE DECIDE IT'S HIGH TIME FOR MCDONALDS FRIES. OF COURSE WE'RE DRUNK BY THE TIME WE GET TO THE CAR SO WE NEED TO CALL UP BRENT'S GIRLFRIEND TO DRIVE US TO MCDONALDS. ONCE THERE WE'RE REALLY DRUNK AND I JUMP OUT OF THE CAR AND CLIMB UP THE ROOF OF THE MCDONALDS AND START RUNNING AROUND AND SCREAMING DOWN THOSE BIG METAL PIPES THAT STICK OUT OF THE CEILING AND I CAN HEAR THE EMPLOYEES DOWN BELOW SAYING THINGS LIKE 'WHO IS THAT?!" AND SOUNDING ALL CONCERNED AND MEANWHILE BRENT & BAR ARE IN THE CAR IN THE DRIVE-THRU LANE WONDERING IF THEY'RE GOING TO HAVE TO COME GET ME.
ANYWAY I COME BACK DOWN AND GET IN THE CAR AND BRENT ROLLS DOWN HIS WINDOW AND THE MCDONALD DUDE GIVES HIM HIS FOOD AND IS LIKE "SAY BUDDY, HAVE YOU SEEN A CRAZY DUDE RUNNING AROUND ON THE ROOF?"
AND I SIT BOLT UPRIGHT AND LEAN FORWARD INTO THE FRONT AND I START SAYING VERY LOUDLY "NO BUT I WILL FIND THAT MOTHERFUCKER IF YOU JUST GIVE US THESE FRIES FOR FREE. JUST GIVE THEM TO US FOR FREE AND I'LL GET ON THE ROOF SO QUICKLY IT'LL MAKE YOUR ASS CRACK AND I'LL FIND THAT GODDAMNED SONOFABITCH AND I'LL MAKE HIM PAY!!" AND I'VE TOTALLY FORGOTTEN IT WAS ME ON THE ROOF AND THE MCDONALD'S EMPLOYEE IS LIKE "UHH, NO THAT'S OKAY!!" AND I'M LIKE "NO! NO! YOU GIVE US THOSE FRIES FOR FREE AND I'LL GET ON THE ROOF AND CATCH THAT DIRTY ROTTEN BASTARD OF A MAN AND I'LL -" AND THE MCDONALDS GUY IS LIKE "NO! NO! IT'S OKAY! IT'S OKAY! IT'S OKAY!" AND I'M LIKE "NO! YOU DON'T GET IT!" AND BRENT DRIVES OFF AND WE SAIL HOME INTO THE SUNSET AND THEN THE NEXT MORNING I HAVE TO WATCH THE VIDEO OF IT (WHICH BAR CONVENIENTLY TOOK) BEFORE I REMEMBER WHAT WAS GOING ON.
PaperLuigi44My amazement is at maximum capacity.Registered Userregular
Ever uttered something and then realise immediately after that it was something horrible? Of course you have.
Alright, so, if you've never heard of The Big Issue, it's a street magazine that supports homeless people by giving them employment as vendors. It's basically an international version of New York's Street News.
So I walked past a vendor several years ago and saw it had comedian Frank Woodley on the cover, so it caught my interest. But I had insufficient cash on me and an ATM was not super close. So I looked at him and joked "Do you have EFTPOS on you?" The man just stared at me and I hastily made my departure feeling like the biggest jerk.
ALRIGHT SO I SHOWED PROMISE IN PRESCHOOL AND WAS CHOSEN FOR THIS SPECIAL 'EARLY START' PROGRAM WITH 3 OTHER LOSERS IN MY PROVINCE AND WE SPENT THE MAJORITY OF OUR KINDERGARTEN YEAR IN A MUSEUM. KIND OF SWEET, BUT I DIDN'T LEARN MUCH AND WHEN I WENT TO A REGULAR ELEMENTARY SCHOOL IN GRADE ONE I WAS THROWN INTO THESE SPECIAL 'ENRICHMENT' CLASSES BECAUSE OF IT. ENRICHMENT SUCKED. IT WAS DONE OVER HALF OF OUR LUNCH AND THE 'BRIGHT' KIDS FROM GRADES 1-6 WOULD GET TOGETHER AND WE'D BE GIVEN THESE RIDICULOUS PROJECTS.
ANYWAY I REMEMBER THIS ONE YEAR THE PROJECT FOR THE ENRICHMENT KIDS IN GRADES 1-3 WAS TO DO SOME LOSER PRESENTATION OF 'THE LOON' OR SOMETHING, WHICH WAS THIS TOTALLY RANDOM INDIAN/NATIVE AMERICAN NARRATIVE THAT INVOLVED THINGS LIKE TREE SPIRITS AND MENORRAHS AND THINGS OF THAT NATURE.
ANYWAY I AM PRETTY SURE OUR ENRICHMENT TEACHER HAD IT ALL PLANNED OUT IN HER HEAD BECAUSE SHE SUGGESTED WE HANG UP A SHEET AND MAKE A TON OF CARDBOARD CUTOUTS AND THEN BUY A REALLY POWERFUL BULB AND DO A SHADOW-PRESENTATION WHERE THE AUDIENCE WOULD ONLY SEE THE SILHOUETTES OF OUR CUTOUTS PRESSED GAAINST THE SHEETS, ILLUMINATED FROM BEHIND BY THE BULB. WHICH IS KIND OF DUMB BUT OF COURSE NOBODY FELT LIKE ARGUING SO THIS IS WHAT WE DID.
JEFF AND I IMMEDIATELY GOT SCREWED AND HAD TO DO ALL THE CUTOUTS FOR SCENERY. IF YOU DON'T KNOW, 'THE LOON' IS PRIMARILY BASED IN THE GODDAMNED REEDS, WHICH IS THE WORST SORT OF SCENERY TO MAKE IF YOU'RE DOING CARDBOARD CUTOUTS AND JEFF AND I WERE REALLY HAVING A HARD TIME OF IT. I WAS SUGGESTED WE JUST TAPE A BUNCH OF COMBS TOGETHER AND PUT THAT UP AGAINST THE SHEET BUT THE TEACHER SHOT IT DOWN FOR NO GOOD REASON AND JEFF AND I SPENT HOURS MAKING THE SCENERY.
SO OTHER KIDS ARE MAKING CUTOUTS OF THE CHARACTERS AND EASY THINGS LIKE THAT, AND WE'RE GLUING THEM TO STRAIGHTENED-OUT COAT HANGERS SO THAT THE PUPPETEERS CAN MANIPULATE THEM ACROSS THE SCREEN WITHOUT THEIR HANDS CASTING SHADOWS AND THIS IS REALLY TURNING INTO A BIG THING AND SOMEHOW THE TEACHER DECIDES WE SHOULD PRESENT THIS LITTLE SHOW IN THE AUDITORIUM IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL.
SO THE BIG DAY COMES, JEFF AND I ARE SITTING TO THE SIDE, THERE ARE PEOPLE'S PARENTS HERE FOR SOME REASON, AND THE MAIN PUPPETEER IS THIS GIRL WHO I ACTAULLY THINK WAS NAMED SADDAM. SADDAM WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE LOON, AND SHE HAD OBVIOUSLY BEEN FEELING PRETTY IMPORTANT AND IT WAS ALL SHE TALKED ABOUT FOR THE LAST COUPLE OF WEEKS.
SO THE AUDITORIUM LIGHTS GO OUT AND A HUSH SETTLES OVER THE CROWDS AND THEN THAT SINGLE 800 WATT BULB IS TURNED ON AND THE BED-SHEET-SCREEN IS ILLUMINATED. OUR GODDAMNED REEDS AND TREES ARE LEANED UP AGAINST IT AND JEFF AND I SMILE IN SATISFACTION BECAUSE THAT SHIT LOOKS DAMN GOOD. THE TEACHER TURNS ON THE TAPE DECK AND THE ROOM IS FILLED WITH THE SOUNDS OF A LOON CALLING, BIRD CHIRPS, RUNNING WATER, SOME NATIVE AMERICANS DOING A POW-WOW FAR OFF IN THE DISTANCE, YOU KNOW, NATURE THINGS. THEN THE BOY WHO WAS SELECTED TO NARRATE BEGINS:
"LONG AGO, WHEN THE WORLD WAS GREEN, A SINGLE LOON SWAM ALL ALONE IN A SACRED LAKE WITH EMERALD SHORES"
OR YOU KNOW, SOMETHING RIDICULOUS. SADDAM PICKS UP HER LOON BY THE COAT-HANGER AND MAKES THE LOON DO THIS RIDICULOUS LITTLE HOPPY DANCE ACROSS THE SHEET.. THAT IS UNTIL SHE ACCIDENTLY TOUCHES HER HAND AGAINST THE BULB SOMEHOW. ALL WE HEAR IS THIS SLIGHT HISSING NOISE, SADDAM CRYING OUT IN PAIN, AND THE LOON TAKES THIS TERRIBLE FALL TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SHEET AND KNOCKS OVER OUR GODDAMNED SCENERY.
THEN ALL YOU HEAR IS JEFF YELL OUT "MY REEDS! MY FUCKING REEDS!" AND LIKE THIS IS GRADE 1. 6 YEAR OLDS DON'T SAY 'FUCK' IN FRONT OF GROWNUPS AND TEACHERS. THE LIGHTS GO ON AND THERE'S ALL THIS CONFUSION. SADDAM HAS BURNT HER HAND PRETTY BADLY, THERE'S A LITTLE 'TEAM' OF PEOPLE ATTENDING HER WOUNDS, THE ENRICHMENT TEACHER IS TRYING TO KEEP THE SHOW GOING, EVERYBODY IS STARING IN MY DIRECTION AND TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHO SWORE, AND ABOVE ALL OF THIS I CAN STILL FAINTLY HERE THE NATIVES DOING THERE LITTLE POW-WOW HEYA-HOYA'S BECAUSE NOBODY HAS STOPPED THE TAPE.
THE NEXT YEAR AT ENRICHMENT WE HAD THE SAME TEACHER AND OUR PROJECT WAS TO MAKE OUR OWN BOARD GAME.
In high school I was a very naive kid. I didn't even realize my classmates were regularly throwing massive drinking parties until senior year, because I had a small group of friends and I wasn't interested in parties anyway. One time we had a speaker come in to discuss drugs and risky behavior. He asked us to raise our hands if we had ever smoked pot or if we knew that a friend of ours had ever smoked pot. Literally everyone raised their hand except me.
:bz: :bz: :bzz:
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Tommy2Handswhat is this where am iRegistered Userregular
edited April 2013
rant and rave thread
one time I started to write a funny story about a rave I went to once and then halfway through, I got embarrassed! Does that ever happen to you? * audience cheers*
e: to be fair, a room full of people on drugs with glowstick juice flying about all willy-nilly is probably the type of thing that only I can find inherently hilarious
Posts
see, this saturday is free comic book day. it's a pretty busy day, as you might imagine
do you know what else happens to be this saturday?
yugioh regionals
guess what store they're being held at
For whipping.
but it always seems like the free stuff runs out way too quickly
1:1 something gets stolen
2:1 it's from another player
5:1 i kick someone out for cussin up a storm
10:1 i ban someone for selling cards
1000:1 someone tries snagging a trade binder and my manager spears him (this happened once)
10,000:1 it's a perfectly uneventful day and i don't have an aneurysm before noon
out of all of these "kick a dude out for cussin up a storm" is the one i'm hoping for the most
you drove multiple hours to play in the yugioh regional? should've followed the rules then shitlord~
When I was around ten I took my grandpa and his buddy down into this local fishing spot where you could regularly catch 20 pound catfish. It was down in a deep ravine, where you could walk out onto this sandbar.
So my grandpas buddy starts talking about how it reminded him of when he was in Vietnam, when his squad got pinned down by a sniper for two days in a very similar ravine. No big deal I loved war stories.
So we got about an hour in and had started running out of bait so the guy was going to go back to the car to grab some more bait. It took us a few minutes to realize that he had gone down the wrong path, and had gone into the forest instead of back up the ravine. We figured he would realize his mistake soon enough.
We got to a point where twenty minutes had passed without him coming back.
My grandpa sent me to go run down the trail to find him, to make sure he hadnt hurt himself.
I found him a few minutes in. He had slipped in the mud and hit his head off some tree roots, his eyes were kinda glazed over and his hair was caked with blood.
Apparently he had given himself a concussion, because soon as he saw me he pulled out his fishing knife and started screaming at me in Vietnamese. So I, naturally, freaked out, which was apparently enough to get him to wake up a bit. He just sat down and just started to plead with me to save some guy im guessing was his military buddy.
So I ran back to my grandpa, and we spent the next hour trying to convince a vet he wasnt in Vietnam and that he should put the knife away.
Well, there was the time that the PA crew crashed FloPAX, but @Sheri would definitely be better at telling it.
So a few years ago I had a Green Lantern hat. Nerdy, I know, but I liked it.
So one day I'm just walking around, wearing my GL hat, when an an older gentleman notices it. He asks me "Do you know the Green Lantern Oath?"
I immediately launch into it.
"In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let all those who... um."
For the life of me, I couldn't recall the next line. I had read it so many times before, but I just couldn't remember it.
I said I couldn't recall the next line. The guy filled in the line I missed ("let those who worship evil's might...") and left.
And that's the story of how I flubbed my chance to join the Green Lantern Corps.
I don't really see it, for which I am ever thankful
Hugs?
Hugs.
Give me a picture and I will tell you if she's hot. I am an expert at this.
you're only an expert at being terrible
you should just be able to filter it by my last name and find her
nope, married
She's pretty. Not as pretty as the sister of another forumer who kinda holds a special place in my heart because reasons.
But yeah, pretty. I now understand where you seem to pull some of your man prettiness from.
Though that's not a high bar to clear, really.
SO IT'S CHRISTMAS AND MY FAMILY IS PLAYING 'SCATTERGORIES' AND EVERYONE IS DRUNK, ESPECIALLY MY STEP-UNCLE RICK. HE'S JUST RAVING DRUNK. IT'S CRAZY. SOMEONE ROLLS THE LETTER 'F' AND WE ALL SPEND 2 MINUTES TRYING TO FILL OUT THE BLANKS. THE TIMER DINGS AND WE GO AROUND TELLING EACH OTHER OUR ANSWERS.
THE FIRST CATEGORY IS 'VEGETABLE'. WE ALL GO AROUND AND WE GET TO DRUNK STEP-UNCLE RICK WHO LOOKS AT US ALL SMUGLY, DIGS UP THIS WIDE GRIN, AND THEN SAYS "FUCKING CARROTS!! BAHABDIUAGHF(*PA#HIOH BHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" AND LAUGHS LIKE A GODDAMNED DEMON KING FOR NEARLY A FULL MINUTE. ONCE HE'S SETTLED DOWN WE MOVE ON. THE NEXT CATEGORY IS 'THINGS YOU FIND ON THE BEACH' OR SOMETHING, AND WHEN WE GET TO RICK AGAIN WE ARE GIVEN THIS CONSPIRATORIAL WINK AND NOD, AND THEN HE SCREAMS OUT "FUCKING TOWELS, MAN!!! BBAHAHAHAHHAHA UAHDIUAHIUHAIUH AHAHAHAHAHA" AND AGAIN WE ARE UNNERVED BY HIS CRAZED LUNATIC LAUGHTER.
THIS GOES ON FOR SEVERAL ROUNDS! IT GETS TIRED REALLY QUICKLY! FINALLY, AROUND ROUND 7 OR 8 WE GET TO THE CATEGORY 'OCCUPATION'. WE GO AROUND AND GIVE EACH OTHER LOOKS OF DREAD AS DRUNK RICK'S TURN APPROACHES. FINALLY IT'S HIS TURN. WE BRACE OURSELVES FOR THE INEVITABLE 'FUCKING DOCTOR, MAN!!' OR 'FUCKING BUS DRIVER SHIT YEAH!!'. THE TENSION IS TERRIFIC. DRUNK STEP-UNCLE RICK CLEARS HIS THROAT, SHOOTS US A MANIACLE LOOK, AND THEN SAYS QUIETLY AND CALMY 'forensic scientist' AND THEN GIVES A CALM NOD TO THE PERSON ON HIS LEFT.
HE THEN GETS UP, WALKS INTO THE KITCHEN, AND FALLS DOWN ALL THE STAIRS INTO THE BASEMENT AND PASSES OUT.
No, no, no. Always mix hard liquors that aren't whiskey, and almost always never mix whiskey.
SO ANYWAY THIS ONE DAY WE’RE ON THE BUS HEADING HOME. THE CITY BUS DRIVERS HATED TO PICK US UP BECAUSE WE’RE LOUD NOISY KIDS, AND THE DRIVER THAT GOT SHAFTED WITH THE 3:45 STOP AT HADLEY JR HIGH ALWAYS TRIED TO BE ABOUT 5 MINUTES EARLY SO THAT HE’D ONLY PICK UP THE STUDENTS WHO DIDN’T DICK AROUND IN THE LOCKER BAYS AND LEFT THE SCHOOL THE MINUTE THE BELL RANG AND RAN UP THAT FUCKING HILL IN ORDER TO CATCH THE CITY BUS.
ANYWAY YEAH, THIS ONE TIME THE BUS DRIVER IS ON TIME SO WE’RE ALL WAITING FOR HIM AND WE ALL PILE INTO THE BUS. CINDY IS ALWAYS THE LAST ONE ON, NOT BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T LEAVE THE SCHOOL ON TIME, BUT BECAUSE SHE CAN’T RUN UPHILL VERY WELL DUE TO HER SIZEABLE GIRTH. SO SHE’D ALWAYS BE THE ONE WHO HAD TO STAND ON THE CITY BUS. SO ANYWAY THIS PARTICULAR TIME I’M SITTING IN THE VERY BACK ROW, DEAD CENTER, AND CINDY IS STANDING ABOUT 10 FEET IN FRONT OF ME.
MY FRIEND BEN AND I ARE JUST BEING RUTHLESS TO HER. DEFINITELY NOT COOL, BUT AGAIN WE’RE 12 AND ENJOYING OURSELVES. CINDY, ALWAYS IN A FOUL MOOD TO BEGIN WITH, IMMEDIATELY STARTS FROTHING AT THE MOUTH AND STARTS MAKING THESE DISTINCT GURGLING NOISES SHE MAKES WHEN SHE’S IRRITATED. BEN AND I DON’T STOP AND KEEP MAKING JOKES AT HER EXPENSE. CINDY’S BOMBASTIC CHASSIS BEGINS TO SHAKE AND QUIVER ALL OVER AND HER LITTLE BEEDY EYES NARROW. THIS IS ALWAYS A SIGN THAT WE’RE APPROACHING THE APEX OF HER WRATH, AND TODAY IS NO EXCEPTION.
VERY SUDDENLY CINDY STRAIGHTENS UP AND BASICALLY SCREAMS OUT IN THAT ROBOTIC WHEEZE OF HERS “LOOK OUT EVERYBODY!!! IMA GONNA KICK DAVID IN THE FACE!!!!!”
I KIND OF SIT UP SMARTLY AND FEEL LIKE I’VE JUST COME OUT OF A DREAM OR SOMETHING. HAVING THIS MASSIVE BEAST OF A WOMAN KICK ME IN THE FACE IS A SOBERING THOUGHT. I’M CONTEMPLATING THE WHOLE SITUATION WHEN CINDY BEGINS HER CHARGE AND SLOWLY PLOWS TOWARDS ME LIKE A LINEBACKER. I’M THINKING I MIGHT HAVE 5, 10 SECONDS BEFORE I’M ON THE RECEIVING END OF A FLABBY FOOT WHEN CINDY SUDDENLY KICKS FORWARD.
AT THIS POINT SHE IS STILL A GOOD 9 FEET AWAY FROM ME. I HAVE NEVER SEEN SOMEONE MISJUDGE DISTANCE SO BADLY IN MY LIFE. SHE HAS TAKEN MAYBE 2 STEPS, TOPS, AND HAS SOMEHOW DECIDED HER TONELESS WRETCH OF A LEG IS GOING TO REACH ME. OF COURSE IT DOESN’T, BUT WHAT’S INTERESTING IS THAT SHE DOES MANAGE TO KICK THIS 80 YEAR OLD WOMAN SITTING QUIETLY RIGHT IN THE FACE.
THE WOMAN JUST SORT OF TOPPLES OVER BACKWARDS AND IS TOTALLY LIMP. I AM POSITIVE HER NECK MUST BE BROKEN IN A THOUSAND PLACES, IF HER SKULL ISN’T FRACTURED ALL TOGETHER. CINDY IS BELLOWING LIKE A HARPOONED WHALE, EYES CLOSED. SHE ISN’T EVEN LOOKING AND SHE’S STILL ON THE RAMPAGE. SHE TURNS ABOUT 10 DEGREES TO HER LEFT AND KICKS AGAIN. ONCE MORE I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER IF SHE HONESTLY THINKS SHE’S ANYWHERE NEAR ME.
THIS TIME CINDY KICKS THIS POOR KID’S DISCMAN RIGHT OUT OF HIS HANDS. I REMEMBER THE DISCMAN DESCRIBED THIS BEAUTIFUL ARC ACROSS THE BUS AND PULLED THE KIDS EARPHONES OUT OF HIS EARS. HE LOOKED UP IN A HURRY, I CAN TELL YOU THAT MUCH, AND TURNED GODDAMNED WHITE WHEN HE SAW CINDY IN FRONT OF HIM, HER MONSTROUS MOUTH OPEN AS WIDE AS A HIPPO’S. I FELT AWFUL FOR HIM.
THEN CINDY KIND OF OPENS HER EYES AND QUIETS DOWN. THE BUS DRIVER IS PUSHING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CRUSH OF ASTONISHED KIDS TOWARDS CINDY. THE OLD LADY I SERIOUSLY THINK IS DEAD, AND IS LYING VERY STILL WITH HER HEAD TILTED BACK TO AN UNNATURAL DEGREE. THE BUS DRIVER GRABS CINDY BY THE SHOULDERS, TURNS HER AROUND AND MAKES HER GET OFF THE BUS.
THEN HE WALKS UP TO THE OLD WOMAN, GRABS HER BY THE SHOULDERS, SHAKES HER LIKE A CAN OF PAINT AND SHE IS MIRACULOUSLY REVIVED AND LOOKS A LITTLE DAZED BUT OTHERWISE OKAY. THEN THE DRIVER SAYS SOMETHING MENACING TO BEN AND I, TURNS AROUND ABRUPTLY AND MARCHES BACK TO THE FRONT OF THE BUS. WE TAKE OFF.
I TAKE A QUICK LOOK OUT OF THE WINDOW AND SEE CINDY STANDING ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. SHE’S SWINGING THOSE COLOSSAL ARMS OF HERS AROUND LIKE LOGS AND IS DEFINITELY STILL SCREAMING AND SHOUTING OUT NONSENSE. BEN YELLS OUT ‘HEY CINDY!!’ AND SHE TURNS TO US AND THE LAST THING SHE SEES THAT DAY IS BEN HOLD UP HER KNAPSACK TO THE WINDOW WITH A GIANT GRIN ON HIS FACE.
the emphasis aids the comedy
Sophomore year of college rolls around (which was 2007) and pathetically enough, I still have some Feelings for her. Not ever having kissed a girl exacerbated the situation, no doubt. Around October, a flyer shows up in our apartment (courtesy one of my roommates) for something called Monster Massive. For those of you unaware, Monster Massive is an annual Halloween rave held at the time in the Los Angeles Memorial Sports Arena and surrounding area. I had never been to an event like it, and really hadn't even been to that many plain old parties. However, the confluence of several unrelated reasons convinced me that I should go, those reasons being:
1. Infected Mushroom was playing, who, despite my extremely limited exposure to electronic music at the time, I was actually a fan of
2. There was a meetup thread for the event on Something Awful and I thought maybe I could meet up with some cool dudez
3. Last and by far the most convincing of all was the fact that I remembered that Bianca, and really more her boyfriend Martin, were at UCLA and into these "rave" things and hey maybe there was a chance I would see her there! Yes, I was this pathetic, and also idiotic - at the time Monster Massive was pulling 30k+ attendees, so the chances of randomly running into someone is basically zero. It can be hard to meet up with people even when you have a plan to do so, as I would find out later.
So, I bought the ticket, and asked a friend at UCLA if I could stay with him that weekend. At the appointed time, I took fucking Amtrak from San Diego up to LA, then public transportation from the station to campus (neither my friend nor I had a car), and hunkered down to sleep on the spare bed vacated by my friend's roommate, who was visiting family that weekend.
Day of, I bummed some cafeteria food off my friend's account and got ready for the show, which is to say, put some weed (the hardest drug I'd ever even seen) in a bag and put the bag in my pocket. I didn't even have a costume for a Halloween rave, because as previously discussed, I was afflicted with an extreme case of lameness. To get there, I decided I would take the bus, because that's what you do when you don't have a car, right? This ended up taking probably an hour and a half on two different buses, but finally, I arrived. Keep in mind, I was completely alone, a helpless nerdlet completely out of my depth and with no understanding of my surroundings or the subculture I was diving headfirst into.
The line to get in was, as you might expect if you are smarter than I was at the time, heinously long. That, combined with my time spent in public transportation hell, meant I didn't get in until quite late. After trying to get my bearings and wandering around a bit, I went to where the Something Awful meetup was supposed to be happening. Of course, the meeting spot was actually quite a large area, and crawling with people, many clearly high as fuck. After half-heartedly asking a dozen or so people if there were stairs in their house, and being told sorry I don't sell drugs a dozen times in response, I gave it up as a fool's errand. Somewhat discouraged, I figured I might as well get inside for Infected Mushroom, still alone and stone-cold sober.
"Inside" was bugfuck crazy. A veritable sea of people filled the entirety of the Arena. People pressing against you from every side. Moving through the crowd was basically impossible, and I decided fuck it, and let the ebb and flow of human bodies carry me where it may. Turns out, I was in a current headed into the heart of the crowd, which was cool, because that was when Infected Mushroom came on. I'd like to say they were good, but honestly I remember nothing of the set. What I do remember is that at some point, I noticed a girl's hair through the throng of people. I noticed because it looked a lot like Bianca's. I had spent countless hours stealing furtive glances at her in AP classes and had every aspect of her appearance engraved into my mind's eye. Her hair was a sort of dirty blond, with (natural) streaks of lighter blond running through it.
Anyway, I was just thinking to myself that that girl's hair looked quite a lot like Bianca's, when she turned and I saw her face; and of course, there in the middle of thirty thousand screaming people, with some infinitesimal probability, it was her. "Kevin?!", she wonders just below shouting volume. "Hi!" I respond. "Oh my god! It's you!" she says, bemusement written across her face. She signals her boyfriend (who I was also friends with in high school) who looks at me with incredulity and waves, and I wave back. And then the crowd carries us apart. That was the last time I saw her, that night or afterwards.
***
That chance meeting was the last item on my vague plan for the night, which, incidentally, did not include a way to get back to UCLA. I didn't realize that public transportation had stopped running already, so my go-to "uhhh... bus?" method of transportation was out. Also my phone was dying. Also I had about $10 in cash on me. Also the Sports Arena is located in a pretty rough part of town, and it's 17 miles from there to UCLA, so not really a feasible walk anyway, especially at 4:00 AM (as it was now approaching).
I knew Bianca and Martin went to UCLA, so I figured maybe I could get a ride back with them. Unfortunately, I didn't have either of their numbers. Feeling resourceful, I text a friend of mine and ask him to look up Martin's number on Facebook (which was new and exciting at the time). He comes through, and I fire off a text - how are they getting back to UCLA, and could I possibly hitch a ride? After an agonizing wait, he reponds that their group is taking a limo back, and sorry, the seats are all spoken for.
At this point, I begin to realize that I am in a bad situation. $10 is not going to cover a taxi, there is no public transportation, I have no ride. Maybe I could have a taxi drive to an ATM, get more cash, then have him drive me home? But I wouldn't even know where to tell him to go - keep in mind, this is before the iPhone even existed. I decide that, seeing as we are in LA and there are lots of young, collegeish-aged people here, some of them must be going back to UCLA. If I just ask enough, someone will say yes and help me out in my time of need! This proved to be a naive assumption. I must have asked at least a hundred people, and the ones who actually responded with 'no' were the nice ones. I was considering finding a glowstick, cracking it open, and writing "UCLA?" on my chest, when a guy I had just asked responded with, "No... why?"
Encouraged by someone showing even the barest interest in my situation, I explained to him that I was an idiot and had no way to get home. He told me that he was from Orange County and just coming down off an acid trip, but his friends who drove could give me a ride back, we'd just have to wait for them to come out. Needless to say, I was incredibly grateful. We settled down by a parking lot to wait for his friends, and he asked if I had any weed. What luck! That tiny bag of weed I'd brought and never used for anything! Unfortunately, we had no way to smoke it, so my new friend bummed a cigarette off a passerby and commenced emptying it and refilling it with weed. This was apparently much more difficult while coming down off acid.
Just as he finished that up, his friends arrived, and I learned that apparently, the ones with the car were a deaf couple. (Aside: you're probably thinking, wait, why on Earth would deaf people go to a live music event? Apparently, even though they can't hear the music, with large enough speakers they can physically feel the bass, and enjoy dancing to it. I found this pretty interesting). My friend explains the situation with the help of a T-mobile Sidekick (which were apparently quite popular in the deaf community, back in the pre-iPhone days), and I offer to give them my ten dollars for gas and my eternal gratitude. They hesitantly accept me on board, and off we go.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get to UCLA, and neither did anyone in the car. Worsening this is the fact that, did I mention, the driver is deaf and any communication is being done over a T-Mobile Sidekick. There is apparently some kind of proto-GPS-navigation service on the Sidekick, but it's not really working, and competing against communication for usage of the phone. It's probably 4:30 AM now, we're not sure where we're going on the snarl of LA freeways, and things are getting tense. If I were telling this story in person I would do a hilarious yet deeply offensive impression of a deaf person expressing displeasure at this point.
In what I can only ascribe to divine intervention, we somehow manage to reach UCLA. I make a hasty exit, leaving them with my $10 and the remainders of the weed, thinking they probably needed it more than I did. I walk to my friend's dorm, and of course, the door is locked. My phone's battery has maybe 1% left. I call my friend, but hey, it's nearly 5:00 AM, no answer. I call again, no answer. I call again, and then my phone dies. I'm thinking about scaling the building, when finally I see him tromping down the stairs to let me in. We return to his room in silence, and I sleep the sleep of the dead. The next day, I leave the cigaweed (which I still had) on his desk as thanks, and return to San Diego with literally every available resource spent.
On the plus side, that night taught me a valuable lesson about the importance of planning.
-Indiana Solo, runner of blades
Alright, so, if you've never heard of The Big Issue, it's a street magazine that supports homeless people by giving them employment as vendors. It's basically an international version of New York's Street News.
So I walked past a vendor several years ago and saw it had comedian Frank Woodley on the cover, so it caught my interest. But I had insufficient cash on me and an ATM was not super close. So I looked at him and joked "Do you have EFTPOS on you?" The man just stared at me and I hastily made my departure feeling like the biggest jerk.
can i tell you about the south american vomit bus
I'm assuming that's like, a credit card system?
Exactly that.
one time I started to write a funny story about a rave I went to once and then halfway through, I got embarrassed! Does that ever happen to you? * audience cheers*
e: to be fair, a room full of people on drugs with glowstick juice flying about all willy-nilly is probably the type of thing that only I can find inherently hilarious