Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Flounder, I Am Appointing You Pledge Representative To The Social Committee; It Means You Have To Drive Us To The Food King
Man, I'm bored. Is anyone else bored? I'm totally bored.
Booooored. Bo-red. Be-ored. Bjøred.
I am typing I am typing I am typing I am tying I am typing I am typing I am typing I am typing I am typing
Damn. I just can't seem to...
You know what, fuck this. Anyone else want to get out of here and do something crazy? Just break the fuck out and just go buck wild. OK, maybe not totally "buck wild" as some of us are a) not 21 (or younger) anymore and b) not characters from a early/mid-1990s sketch comedy show oriented toward an African-American audience, but you know what I mean, man. Come on, you HAVE to come with me. No jail-time this time, I swear.
Look, we could all drive down to TJ. Not all day, just for a couple of hours or something, you know. I know there are a lot of us, but we could pass the hat around until we pool enough money to rent a bus. Anyone know how much one of those things cost? Whatever, I'm sure we could swing it. If not we can all carpool. I have a minivan.
We don't have to do anything weird like go see one of those donkey shows. We can just hit some bars, make some awkward conversation with some drunk underage gringas, drink some of those fancy drinks that they light on fire first, maybe get in a bar-fight with some Marines down from Pendleton. On the way back we can hit the street vendors and pay too much for a cheap-ass "Indian blanket." If we park in San Ysidro and walk across, we can roll some beggars on the way out. There's not much to take from a panhandler, but this isn't about practicality; this is about entertaining me because I'm bored.
Maybe you're not down with border crossing because you don't like to be around foreigners or you don't like to be hassled just because you carry fresh fruit with you or maybe there's a description closely matching yours with the Tijuana police in connection with a string of unsolved prostitute murders. Whatever, man. We don't have to do that. I'm not married to the idea.
Hey, this is California. There are lots of things we could do.
We could always hit the beach. You could even go into the water for a while if you want to. Nah, it's OK, I'll just hang back and watch. I have sensitive skin; it's part of my allergy to raw-sewage-tainted-seawater. Yeah, I know, it's freaky and kind of a bummer, but I live with it. Some people have amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, I have this. It's my burden.
Maybe after you get out of the water we can get some of those fresh fish tacos from one of those beachfront little places, like Del Taco. I know it looks like a school-cafeteria fish stick inside tortilla, but come on, it's down by the beach, man. It has to be ocean-fresh. It comes with a lime wedge. You can't get more Mexican authentic than that.
After that we could just hang out. You know, kick it on the sand for a while, check out the sunset, watch the gay couples in spandex hold hands while they roller-blade past us. Dude, don't get all uncomfortable, they're in love. Look at you getting all squeamish. Don't be such a homophobe, you fag.
OK, fine. We don't have to go to the beach either. But I'm still bored. You know what? Vegas.
Roadie to Vegas. We don't even have to stop in Baker to see the World's Largest Thermometer if you don't want to. Straight up the 15, bitch. I can get you there, feet on Strip in 3 hours. We don't have to do anything weird like go see one of those donkey shows. We can just hit some bars, make some awkward conversation with some drunk underage whores, drink some of those fancy drinks that they light on fire first, maybe get in a bar-fight with some Marines up from Twentynine Palms.
And dude, the best thing is, if you don't like Vegas, you can always pretend you're in Paris or New York.
OK, you know what, fine, we can do the goddamn Star Trek Experience if you want to, but there better be some hot Klingon bitches there at least and you TOTALLY have to wait until I'm half-way loaded at least. There's no fucking way I'm watching "Borg Invasion 4D" sober.
Come on. That's a lot of options. You can't say no. If you want to beat traffic, you have to be here by 2:00. You let me know. I gotta make some calls.
This post on the Narcissus Scale: 6.1