I wonder if Obama will pardon Mumia.
Archive for January, 2009
I’m sorry, but you’ve got problems if the best hero you can find is a dude that throws shoes. Not to mention the guy *missed.* Just sayin.
Never underestimate the importance of the pitchâ€¦when T-bone invited me out to Vegas to help celebrate Chrisâ€™ birthday, he put the word Vegas, right there in the subject line and reiterated it again very early in the email. Now, while he is under the gross misinformation that I play â€œblackjackâ€ and â€œcount cardsâ€ (hahahahahaahahahahaâ€¦How broke and filing for bankruptcy would I be if I tried to â€œcount cardsâ€? Hahahahaha), his general sense that I would be lured to Vegas for cards was right on the money. I had my tickets and hotel booked before I was even sure whose birthday it was. â€œOh, rightâ€¦Chris!â€
Chris is the most high energy positive upbeat person I have ever met in my whole life. That honor used to belong to my high school senior class President but I saw her in a museum one day after we graduated and whoaâ€¦in like three years, sheâ€™d aged about ten, cursed like a sailor and hated everybody and everything! I was like â€œdamnâ€¦you and I might have been friends in high school if you were like this all time.â€
And so Chris ascended to the throne.
He is one of these school spirit, tear ligaments and suffer injuries for intramural sports just for the honor of it! (Yale is broken up into 12 colleges and weâ€™re assigned one freshman year and those are your mates for life. Some good care less, some take it really seriously and then thereâ€™s Chris. His college was his life! His girlfriend was making fun of the system by calling it â€œHogwarts. Yeah, Chris was in Huffelpuff and you were in Gryfindorâ€¦â€ Chris. Not. Amused. NO ONE MAKES FUN OF TD! (Well, you know, except the other 11 colleges.)
I hadnâ€™t seen T-bone since graduation like 10â€¦erâ€¦(11? (counting cards? Hahaahahahahah)) years ago, but he comments on the blog from time to time (he claims that my wholesome family blog is banned by his employer, the Oakland public school system) and he is also on the life suck known as facebook. (Seriously, join. Join now. Friend me, not Karol or Ugarles.)
The Vegas trip was to be a surprise for Chris thrown for him by his girlfriend, Jen. Now, I probably havenâ€™t seen Chris in like five or six years, but he is such a character that as I circled the lobby of the Wynn looking for them, I heard his voice saying the word â€œballsâ€ from halfway across the casino floor.
(Chris is always saying balls, or dick or turd, sometimes all at once, as in â€œI told that dick he could suck my turd balls.â€ Actually, true story, he and his girlfriend went to that Baltimore/Steelers game a couple of weeks ago (Chris is from Pittsburgh). So heâ€™s telling me that he was riding the Baltimore fans so hard and telling them they could suck his fat dick and all this other awesome trash talking. So, Dawn Summers, being the interested in awesome trash talking football fan that I am, asks â€œoh yeah, what else did you say to them?â€ He thought about it for a minute, as evidenced by his putting his thumb and pointer fingers on his chin, and then said â€œyeah, that was about it. That they could suck my fat dick.â€
(Okay, my blog is so getting banned by the Oakland school district now.)
So, yeah, basically, heâ€™s your guyâ€™s guy and T-bone is his boy.
I bought the first round of drinks and we sat down to play roulette. I employed my careful roulette playing system and managed to tread waterâ€”I maybe lost two dollarsâ€¦which is AWESOME for playing roulette while sipping Jamesonâ€™s. Chris, on the other hand, put a redbird on a hard 7 AND HIT. He then hit with 28. And then his girl made him cash out and we went to play slots.
I did not know you could slip dollar bills right into the slot machines. I always thought you needed to go buy a card somewhere. You donâ€™t. And now I know.
Chrisâ€™s buddy (everybody is his buddy!) had hooked us up with a VIP booth? Lounge? Spot? At â€œPureâ€ the hottest nightclub on the Strip.
I stared blankly.
â€œParis Hilton parties there.â€
Okay. I know Paris Hilton. Check.
When we got there we saw posters advertising Wilmer Valderramaâ€™s birthday party there.
We got our hands stamped and IDs checked at the door and we were escorted to our booth/lounge/spot. We ordered â€œsome bottlesâ€ and chillaxed. About twenty minutes later this huge burly dude came by to let us know that he was â€œour securityâ€ for the night and if we wanted to go â€œup to the roofâ€ heâ€™d make sure no one came into our b/l/s. T-bone and his lady were all about the tequila. The rest of us had vodka and I said that tequila was the worsest thing the planet.
â€œJose Cuervo has ruined tequila for a generation.â€
â€œIs Patron good?â€
â€œItâ€™s the worst of the good stuff.â€
I canâ€™t remember the name of what they were drinkingâ€¦something brown in a glass bottle.
â€œSo, where in Brooklyn do you live, Chocolate Ã‰clair?â€ asked T-bone using favorite fastest way to annoy me.
Chrisâ€™ girlfriend said â€œoh, that name is so cute!â€
I glared again. â€œYeeahhhâ€¦ccuuutee.â€
(And yes, I realize that it may seem ill-advised to post that name here, however, you are all aware that I do know how to use a SAW automatic weapon, right? Okay then.)
â€œHow do you know Brooklyn?â€ I asked him. (He is also from Pittsburgh.)
â€œI know Brooklyn bands like the Yeah Yeahs [and The Blah and the Mememememes]â€
â€œDude, the only music I know is Britney or Nsync, Clay Aiken and Ooh, Katy Perry!â€
(Really, in trying to recreate this conversation, I canâ€™t even plausibly pretend to recall any of the bands he mentioned. Itâ€™s like the time I tried to blog about a conversation in my car on the way back from AC. I was asking Alceste football questions and then Kearns was all â€œwho won the blah blah rugby qualifierâ€ and Alceste was like â€œoh, the Welsh Rocketmen. And you know, whatâ€™s funny about the Welsh Rocketmenâ€¦theyâ€™re actually Scottish!â€ And then he and Kearns laughed and laughed. And then Kearns was all can you believe the Florence Canalites beat the Sicilian rocketbottoms 2-1 in the third pitch snicket? And then Alceste was all â€œI know! What an upset! Itâ€™s like the time the Danish cruellers tied the Swiss butterballs 1-1 and won the cup. Itâ€™s likeâ€¦what language is that!?!?! And then I declared that soccer was ghez and banned them from my car. Oh yeaahâ€¦dude, you guys are so banned from my car!)
Whoaâ€¦I digressâ€¦so anyway T-bone is talking about music I donâ€™t care about and mocking me for playing Alanis every single day during junior year of college. (Really, I did. And then when they couldnâ€™t take it anymore, they stole the CD out of the computer. And I got so mad, that I went to the record store and bought another one. Soâ€™s their faces.)
Ha, Iâ€™ve actually blogged about the nefarious T-bone before.
Anyway, Chrisâ€™ girl was saying how she got tickets to Britneyâ€™s Pittsburgh concert and she was going with her sister.
â€œIt will either be the most awesome disaster ever in the history of mankind or it will be a good show.â€
I had settled on a steady of stream of vodka cranberries, when I for some, redonkculous reason, decided I wanted to â€œtry tequilaâ€ â€“ so I poured some in a glass and downed it.
And then I blacked out and when I came to there were three of everybody.
And T-bone was pointing and laughing.
â€œFUCK! This stuff is LIQUID CRACKâ€
That made me laugh, so I borrowed T-boneâ€™s iphone so I could update my facebook status.
The club started to play the opening chords to Some Arrested Development song, but then they didnâ€™t finish and I was mad. Tequilaâ€™d up mad.
â€œChill, theyâ€™ll bring it back. Havenâ€™t you ever been to a club before?â€
Uhmmâ€¦doesâ€¦umâ€¦Scrabble club count? Cause I go there every week, kiiiid!
It did not count.
The DJ started to play Sascha Fierceâ€™s â€œSingle Ladiesâ€ and Chrisâ€™ girl got up on the couch thingie in our B/L/S and started dancing.
â€œHey, youâ€™re not single,â€ T-bone said.
â€œDo you see a ring on it,â€ she said swerving her hips around and extending her left hand, â€œDo you hear the song, Chris?!â€
Chris covered his face. â€œYes, I hear the song.â€ And then I think I saw him stab Sascha Fierce to death with his mind.
I mean, not positiveâ€¦but pretty sure.
We went upstairs and I chatted with the girls for a bit and then I went back downstairs and chatted with the boys for a bit.
Now, I will never repeat what either party saidâ€¦but I will say this is one of my favorite pastimesâ€¦talking about the same thing with two halves of a couple. Itâ€™s so fascinatingâ€¦way better than that stupid newlywed show with the cardboard.
Ok, well I will ahre one thing, because itâ€™s hysterical and all parties involved seem to be well aware. I gathered that Chris and Jen have been going out for about the same number of years that T-bone and his girl have been dating: 3 or 4 years. So, T-bone girl said that if Chris and Jen get engaged first, she is going to cut T-boneâ€™s balls off.
So when we were alone Chris was all â€œdude, you got nothing to worry about manâ€¦if I ever plan to get engaged, youâ€™re the first person Iâ€™m calling.â€
I assume so T-bone can pack his things and move in the dead of night.
I remember very little after the tequila tryingâ€¦though I do remember the cab driver begging us not to let Chris vomit in his cab cause it â€œhappened to me over New Yearâ€™s and my cab had to sit in the depot for a week.â€
I was starving, so I went with the single ladies to go look for food. I had asked for a food menu at the club and was laughed at by â€œour security guard.â€ â€œWe have alcohol; we donâ€™t have food.â€
I did not bother to point out to him that the Scrabble club offers food.
I staggered up to bed where I begged myself not to vomit in the bed cause I doubted that even the Encore would offer that kind of clean up service.
Unfortunately, I couldnâ€™t stand upright anymore, so walking to a bathroom was so not an option.
I fell asleep around 4.
I was then up at 8. And possibly still drunk.
I decided to go to churchâ€¦since I was up and it was across the street.
I do so love attending mass in Vegasâ€¦though this was the hippy church where they make you tell people where youâ€™re from and I was still wary about opening my mouth too wide.
I felt better after mass and was singing â€œHere I am Lordâ€ all the way back to my room. Where I promptly passed out again.
There I go Lord.
From the younger and obviously WAY better branch of the Ari family tree: The hysterical Eric, who writes:
1) I love words like tidbits, factoids, hullabaloo, malarkey, palaver, hijinx, shenanighans, tomfoolery, meander & hogwash. The less people use it, the more I like it. Anything old timey is fine by me! [I myself am currently attempting to bring back “groovy”…of course followed by the obligatory “maaan.”-Ed.]
13) When I pass a girl on the street and she doesn’t even notice me, I don’t get upset, cause I just assume I’m too good for her. The odds are that I am. Every once in awhile I’ll follow the chick for awhile and eventually end up pushing her into a puddle or stabbing her, but hey, what fun is instinct if you never act on it, right folks!!?? Right……..???
14) When something goes wrong in my life I just stop for a minute and think about how utterly awesome I am, and then, amazingly, whatever was bothering me just doesn’t bother me as much anymore. It’s very empowering to be THIS awesome.
15) Along with the words I listed in #1, I also love the word awesome. I have to, because it’s applied to me on a constant basis. You’d think it would get frustrating always hearing people telling you how awesome you are, but surprisingly, it doesn’t.
He’s mine now. All mine. Whatever, Ari’s got an extra one.
Listen, the reason why I like butterscotch and you like caramel, and I prefer red wine and you prefer white, is because neither one of us would share and God wants us to be happy and get along. Plus, more for us. –Tae
â€œGo get Osama for me.â€
He tilted his head to my stack of crap.
I flipped through my targets and found the one he asked for.
â€œYou got it! You did in one minute what Washington couldnâ€™t do in eight years and two wars.â€
The customer ahead of me was already on to shooting his handgun. It was so loud. No, whatever you are imagining, amplify it by 100 decibels loud. So loud, I canâ€™t even put the word in all caps because it will hurt my ears with the memory, loud. I jumped every time he pulled the trigger. This made Luis, understandably nervous about handing me a loaded automatic weapon.
â€œEasy girl. Weâ€™re going to train that fear right out of you.â€
I smiled. Then jumped. He showed me how to hold the butt of the gun and how to brace the nose of it while I lined up my shot by looking through the sight thingie. I was still jumping at regular intervals as my next door neighbor emptied his clip.
Luis asked me if I was ready. I nodded. Then jumped. He clipped Osama to the target and reeled him out to about halfway down the range.
â€œYou ready, girl?â€
No. Definitely. Absolutely not.
I squeezed the trigger, nothing happened.
â€œOh, wait,â€ Luis said as he took the gun from my hand and unlatched or latched something or other, â€œyouâ€™re good now.â€
I repositioned the gun to my shoulder.
Read the whole thing. I mean, if you want, if you don’t that’s cool. I mean, hell with you.
Wow, I haven’t been to California in a year and a half…I used to go every year…and I can’t begin to imagine when I’d ever have cause to go back.
I was so caught up in my absolute football quiz domination (yes, pearatty, that’s your cue…it is a new year, after all) that I didn’t write about much else that happened on that trip to Las Vegas…and well, now that it has been one or three Las Vegas trips ago, I likely never will. However, as I was flipping through my photos, this one jumped out at me:
The lot of us had brunch at some fancy hamburger place in the Mirage– where the measured the meat, not in quarters of pounds, like normal establishments, but in ounces, resulting in me getting the Alceste look of ridicule and damnation when I opined that I didn’t want any “stupid mini sliders” with respect to the 12 ounce burger offering.
“How much meat do you eat?”
So blah blah we had our subpar burgers, then I decided to order dessert. As you are all well aware, I have been on a bit of a bread pudding kick, so the offering of a bread pudding made out of KRISPY KREME donuts (Peter, you give me my donuts back, dammit.) was too tempting to resist.
For *me* anyway, I believe Alceste and Kearns were making vomit sounds all through my ordering of it.
I had one bite of this thing when it came. It was one bite way too many. OH MAN. IT WAS SOOOOO WRETCHED.
I still get heaves just thinking about it.
So, if you’re in the Mirage…at some schmancy sounding restaurant with ounce measured burgers…you should definitely skip the KK bread pudding.
Karol: So he was all “how many of these facebook people do you know?” And I said I knew like 75% of them, so he opens up the first page of names and sure enough, I knew 2/3 of them!
Me: That’s 66.6%.
Karol: Oh…well, I knew 75%.
Me: That’s 3/4…wow and I thought I was bad…you suck.
Karol: I know.