Tuesday, February 21, 2012

I've tried every karate move I know and still can not kill this mosquito

Two days in a row? Yes, I'm going to start off strong and then slowly decline and disappoint you all.

I forgot to mention one of my favorite parts about going Downtown/Uptown/wherever in a city: CAB DRIVERS. This is clearly dripping in sarcasm, so please read it as such. (Someone should invent a sarcasm font already.) Cab drivers have this wonderful talent for freaking me out.

Now, what made this pub crawl (in reference to the previous post) so great was that it included cab fare for us to get our drunk asses home. How thoughtful. Well, Lisa decided to use her cab fare to get TO the first bar, and met the sweetest cabdriver that completely broke every stereotype about cabdrivers. No, he wasn't. No, she didn't. She met a very self-righteous cabdriver that proceeded to scold her for going to a bar at noon on a Saturday. This taxi driver asked her if she was married, and when she said "No", he then told her that she would probably marry an alcoholic if she ever got married at all

Maybe this is what Lisa should've said, "No, I'm not married, I'm a hooker." Shock and awe might be my favorite kind of comeback. It's usually in retrospect, though. I guess I'm not ballsy enough to actually say what's rattling around in my head while the hilarity ensues.

* Can I side note and say that one of my life goals is to find The Cash Cab? He's out there. Probably not in Dallas, but the world goes around, so I'm optimistic.

That's usually the part where I turn to someone who is far more gutsy, or in this case drunk or maybe they're not too quick on the cause and effect flowchart of actions and consequences. Either way, I can tell them the wildly outrageous action I'm thinking and sit back and smile. "You should take that tire and this rope and tie it to a tree to make a swing.". It's like, "Smell this, I think it's gone bad."

I hate that game.

I'm pretty sure that's what little brothers are for anyways. That and coming up with zombie apocalypse scenario games. Now, I've played my fair share of Nazi Zombies and Call of Duty, usually out of sheer curiosity and a few times out of determination for redemption. The flamethrower is my weapon of choice, who doesn't want to see something set ablaze in a fiery triumph? Thought so.

My Call of Duty skills are less than... they're just "less than" even with said flamethrower. I spend too much time shouting obscenities at my guy that's helplessly trapped in a corner, jumping up and down while shooting at the sky. Kind of wish there were birds so I at least had a fair shot at hitting something.

Well, the Nazi zombies, brought up a wonderful dinner conversation one day. I decided to test the little brother's zombie readiness by telling him that he has to use the 5 random objects in our current location to defeat a wild pack of brain-eaters. He did alright with a box of toothpicks, a parrot, fig newtons, floss, and a Spice Girls cd. This has now become our thing.

We randomly text message each other an assortment of items, a location, time, weather conditions, and then we wait. We wait patiently and hope for the other's survival. It's kind of our way of saying we love each other without all the x's and o's. That and quoting Fantastic Mr. Fox.

It's really not fair to call the 16 year old boy wonder "little" when he's 6'4 and can crush a coke can just by looking at it.

Another way to show someone you love them? Only a real bestfriend goes to the gym with you and then convinces you to pour cake batter on the wafflemaker. For dinner. Yes, cakewaffles are delicious.

Oh, the mosquito? It's like I'm sharing a room with a kamikaze fighter pilot vampire.

DOA by The Foo Fighters because I miss the old Foo.

1 comment:

  1. it's the zeppelin tats, right? hoooooo, you are a babe. play COD with me.