one one millionth of what happened on th week end
26 JUNE 2005 SUNDAY, 4:21 p.m., Union Station
"you've got 4 minutes. Do you know your way?"
"Not really."
"Simon, maybe you and Mario can hop out and escort her, while I circle around."
"OK."
"Ah'll grab th bunny."
"Plenty of time, we just have to book it. That suitcase has wheels, right?"
"Yeah. I hope I make it."
"Of course you'll make it. You have 2 ninjas helping you."
"That's racist."
I slide out th handle, drop th suitcase down on its wheels, and we book it. Th rabbit inside has had a hell of a week-end: smokin' cigarettes, drinkin' beer, CHILLIN' (!), now Xtreme Go-Kart.
"4:25, 4:25, 4:25, I don't see it."
"It says 4:25 Boston, I don't see New York."
"Keep going."
Everything's been extremely seat-of-th-pants.
"It's probably the same train."
"Does th number match yr ticket."
"Yes."
"GO."
"Bye! I love you!"
Th utterance is so unabashed, extravagant and matter-of-fact all @ once, it cracks th ninjas up.
+ + +
27 JUNE 2005 MONDAY, 8:42 a.m., Hickzville, VA
I have just finished watching th 8TH and final episode of
th Australian comedy show, John Safran Vs God, courtesy of my only Australian friend, James. Th episode is a stunner, one of th top five most gut-wrenching things I've seen on a television program, easy. When a bunch of good friends and I watched several of th (hilarious) earlier episodes on Friday evening, one of us suggested that Safran was a cross between Michael Moore and Steve-O. I thought he was closer to Sacha Baron Cohen, but that now seems like a shallow comparison, too.
(2B replayed 4 shore, this Thursday Movie Night.)
+ + +
"Hey did I ever mention my idea, to buy 50 pink plastic lawn flamingoes, and sneak them onto my friend's yard in the middle of the night?"
"That could get pretty expensive, couldn't it."
+ + +
26 JUNE 2005 SUNDAY, 8:33 a.m., Hickzville, VA
I'm up too early after a late night. I go to th fridge and hold open th door, try to decide between beer and orange juice: orange juice. Wait, what is that. Rabbit pellets? What is that doing in there. Italian parsley, pretty much all gone. A bag of rice, chewed into. What th hell? Suddenly, a head, 2 ears, flop out from behind a bag of onions. I jump. "What th hell are you doing in there?" I grab him out w/ one hand; his fur's a bit chilly.
"Hey, you know what?"
"What."
"I think Pinkston spent th night inside th refrigerator."
"WHAT! OH MY GOD IS HE ALL RIGHT?"
"I think so. It looks like he ate and shit up a storm, but he was hopping around and stuff, just now."
"Oh my god, how did he get in there?!"
"I don't know. Th only thing I can think of is he musta hopped in there while someone was gettin' a beer last night, and they was too drunk to notice."
"Well, where is he now?"
Th rabbit is pissed, and spends much of th next several hours hiding silently.
"you've got 4 minutes. Do you know your way?"
"Not really."
"Simon, maybe you and Mario can hop out and escort her, while I circle around."
"OK."
"Ah'll grab th bunny."
"Plenty of time, we just have to book it. That suitcase has wheels, right?"
"Yeah. I hope I make it."
"Of course you'll make it. You have 2 ninjas helping you."
"That's racist."
I slide out th handle, drop th suitcase down on its wheels, and we book it. Th rabbit inside has had a hell of a week-end: smokin' cigarettes, drinkin' beer, CHILLIN' (!), now Xtreme Go-Kart.
"4:25, 4:25, 4:25, I don't see it."
"It says 4:25 Boston, I don't see New York."
"Keep going."
Everything's been extremely seat-of-th-pants.
"It's probably the same train."
"Does th number match yr ticket."
"Yes."
"GO."
"Bye! I love you!"
Th utterance is so unabashed, extravagant and matter-of-fact all @ once, it cracks th ninjas up.
+ + +
27 JUNE 2005 MONDAY, 8:42 a.m., Hickzville, VA
I have just finished watching th 8TH and final episode of
th Australian comedy show, John Safran Vs God, courtesy of my only Australian friend, James. Th episode is a stunner, one of th top five most gut-wrenching things I've seen on a television program, easy. When a bunch of good friends and I watched several of th (hilarious) earlier episodes on Friday evening, one of us suggested that Safran was a cross between Michael Moore and Steve-O. I thought he was closer to Sacha Baron Cohen, but that now seems like a shallow comparison, too.
- John Vs Scientology
- John Vs Atheists
- John Vs Lefty Pinkos with Aboriginal Land Rights Clerks
- John Vs Japanese Zen Buddhists
- John Vs the Ku Klux Klan
- John Vs Buddha
- John Vs Xtreme Mormons
- John Vs Haitian Voudou
- John Vs the People He Plays Scrabble With
- John Vs Vikings
- John Vs the Anti-American Michael-Moore-Fellating Lefty Pinkos
- John Vs the Magic Mormon Underpants
- John Vs the Exorcist
(2B replayed 4 shore, this Thursday Movie Night.)
+ + +
"Hey did I ever mention my idea, to buy 50 pink plastic lawn flamingoes, and sneak them onto my friend's yard in the middle of the night?"
"That could get pretty expensive, couldn't it."
+ + +
26 JUNE 2005 SUNDAY, 8:33 a.m., Hickzville, VA
I'm up too early after a late night. I go to th fridge and hold open th door, try to decide between beer and orange juice: orange juice. Wait, what is that. Rabbit pellets? What is that doing in there. Italian parsley, pretty much all gone. A bag of rice, chewed into. What th hell? Suddenly, a head, 2 ears, flop out from behind a bag of onions. I jump. "What th hell are you doing in there?" I grab him out w/ one hand; his fur's a bit chilly.
"Hey, you know what?"
"What."
"I think Pinkston spent th night inside th refrigerator."
"WHAT! OH MY GOD IS HE ALL RIGHT?"
"I think so. It looks like he ate and shit up a storm, but he was hopping around and stuff, just now."
"Oh my god, how did he get in there?!"
"I don't know. Th only thing I can think of is he musta hopped in there while someone was gettin' a beer last night, and they was too drunk to notice."
"Well, where is he now?"
Th rabbit is pissed, and spends much of th next several hours hiding silently.