Oh No, Mister Walker, What You Gonna Do With Those Shoes?
I had a weekend. I first heard this term in the 40 Year Old Virgin when Cal described an incident with a girl and a horse. No horses were involved in My Weekend, but there were girls, and other grandiose details. So needless to say, when one says, "I had a weekend", they better be serious and talk just talking outta there ass.
Saturday night, after the Cocoa Wal-Mart 8 Hour Produce Endurance Test, I ran home to get prepared for an evenings with friends...and then drunkards. Some friends- Steve, Jason&Michelle, Andy; coworkers- Sean, Verniece, Aaron and his girlfriend Brittany; that Chip Jones miscreant(Who?! Chip Jones!), and I went to see Silent Hill. That movie might be called a little fucked up, but gnarly nonetheless. I think they were trying to explicate to you all the power of The Darkness, as it was referenced many times. It is a force to be reckoned with. At any rate, the rum a dumped into my pink lemonade also greatly helped my cinematic experience.
I shot the shit with everybody out in the parking lot for a few, and then eased my way toward the party I was invited to earlier that evening. With twelve pack of Bud Light in cooler, in hand, I rolled into the party, announcing my arrival with a boisterous WOOOOOO! and was greeted by a resounding WALKER! I placed my cooler pool side and drifted around, investigating the scene and talking with crowd.
Last party, I left my BIG FUCKING MUG there, so you can imagine how pleased The Dude was when it was returned to him...then taken by a cat named Michael and filled to the brim. Then of course he said, "CHUG THAT BITCH!" I got about half down, and someone topped it off again, and I was requisitioned to show how much of a recidivist I am/could be. Once again, got it half down, and moments later discovered I was afflicted with a cold burning sensation in my abdomen. Lemme repeat that, COLD BURNING sensation. Reflecting now on it, I realize that I probably shouldn't have chugged. I also probably shouldn't have answered when Michael yelled, "FLAIR, DO A KEG-STAND!", but I did, and it burned, burned, burned, the beer of fire.
The party slowly died by the half hour, but the true warriors kept on rockin' in the free world. I ended up engaging in discourse with Andrea Kent, a girl I had Algebra 2 with in high school. Still...looks...great. A friend of hers named Marley, a cute little spark plug who has a resemblance to WWE interview personality Maria, seemed to be having issues. Apparently a friend of hers "stole her car". I believe she even called her mother, and mother showed up. I should have asked her if she wanted a beer, but my manners obviously failed me, because I forgot to ask. Oh well. I intentively listened to Marley, nodded, then continued my circumambulation of Matt and Curtis' residence. Near the twilight of the evening, a girl, and I'm not sure if she was the Girl Who Took the Car or a friend of that girl, but she and this Marley girl proceeded to vocalize at each other, and at loud volumes..."BITCH, I WILL KICK YOUR ASS!!!"
They were separated, and we tried to calm the scene down. I grabbed my cooler and explained to the folks who were still there that problems happen to arise, and solutions can be found. I further narrated that I have a cooler of 12 ounce solutions and proceeded to pass them around. Not long after that, the once swinging party was reduced to myself, Curtis, Matt, a fellow named Kenny and his girl(Candi, I think?), and I think this other guy named Jeff was still there. On, and Jenn.
I can't remember why, but Kenny and I started cutting promos against each other. For the uncultured, a promo is when a professional wrestler talks about his opponent. We were operating in fine style too! Curtis got involved as well. Hell, I got him in the Figure Four Leg Lock. After it was all said and done, and we commented on how much ass that kicked, I grabbed Curtis and launched him into the pool with a Fallaway Slam.
The rest left, Matt and Jenn crashed, and Curtis & I did some drunk dialing. He and I ended up leaving Erika Lawhon a couple of six minute voicemails. The details are a little hazy on what was said, but...yeah. It was nearing 4am when we popped in Eurotrip. I found a vacant room and in a matter of seconds I was asleep faster than Rusty Hatchett fails.
I was awakened by the sound of Scotty Doesn't Know blaring through the walls!, into my ears!!, into my brain!!! I stumbled into the kitchen, then back into the bedroom, and then moments later gathered the strength to crawl back into the kitchen. Matt, Jenn, and I began cleaning. Matt inspired me, and I tried to throw Curtis into the pool. Sadly, my plan flopped. I was surprized when two peopled showed up OUT OF NOWHERE...or, as a matter of fact, the bedroom next to the one I slept in. It was Morgan and his gal, Alisha. The five of us bantered, and I went to get a beer. When I came back, that dirty, rotten scoundrel Curtis pushed me into the pool. Calm down, gang, I did manage to save the beer.
The beer and the swim, mainly the swim, renewed me with a powerful vigor! Jenn left, and we fiddle-fucked around until we went to Sonny's for lunch. We were joined by a lad who's name escapes me at the moment. I ended up walking out of there with a tea pitcher, which I may or may not return this evening. We made a quick stop at Albert-MOTHERFUCKINBASTARDASSIHATEYOUFUCKERS-son's for ice and cups because we were going boating. And it had to be the greatest maritime epic there ever was because we brought the keg of beer from the party on the boat with us!
We eased away from where Matt's boat makes berth, and as soon as we got past the fuckin' manatee zone, Matt hit it. We were flyin'. It had been forever since I'd been on a boat, so I'd forgotten how much fun it was. Our destination was Ski Island, and clearly other boaters shared in this. We chilled there for a bit. I worked on my tan while sipping beer from my newly aquired pitcher. It was then that I thought, could life get any better than this?
It kinda did. We left Ski Island and swung by Kelly Park to pick up Erika and her companion, Brian. Erika said hello in the form of "Walker, are you drunk?", and then she started talking and walked off before I could properly explain myself. Matt turned the boat around, and we went back to Ski Island. Some of the gang from the party the previous night was there. The second time around at the island, I ended up doing a keg-stand on the boat for the sheer glory of saying I did a keg-stand on a boat. Honestly, how many people do you know have done a keg-stand on a boat? Some people can brag about knocking a person out with a single punch, but have they drank beer vertically on a sea-faring craft? Anyways...
A while later, we loaded up and went tubing. I used to go tubing in the 8th grade with this annoying jackass I knew. It's amazing how the sands of time cover such fond memories as skidding across the water on a huge rubber tube. They should replace Curling and Women's Figure Skating with Tubing as an Olympic sport. Matt had this dire dismount. We were going near 40, and he hit face first! FACE-FUCKIN'-FIRST! As we were coming back to drop off some of the people who joined us, we had a "conversation" with the Coast Guard. After some bad noise and some crafty BS work by Morgan we were on our way.
The gaggle of us: Matt, Curtis, Morgan, Alisha, Erika, Brian, and myself cruised over to their friend's place. We arrived just in time to see someone perform an incredible Shooting Star Press off a dock. A ladder was aquired, and the lot of us started jumping off the roof over said dock. The roof had to be 20 feet above the water, so needless to say looking down kinda fucks you up. On my second jump, I dropped my baggies and went bare assed. I figured what the hell, story for the grandkids. My performance was overshadowed by a topless female, but I'm not complaining.
After the grand revelry of roof jumping, we docked the boat, and cleaned it. I took a seat at the end of the dock to watch the sunset and sip a beer and reflect on the great day. Erika joined me, and we started to have a conversation. We wholeheartedly agreed how beautiful the scene we laid our eyes upon was. Then I went to give Matt a hand with the last bit of clean-up, and haul the empty keg to the truck. We got the keg trucked, and went to gather our effects. Oh, Jeebus! I almost forgot about the shoes.
When I threw Curtis into the pool, he was wearing jeans and I was wear my baggies...and my shirt...and my Chuck Taylors. Before we left for Sonny's, I put them in the dryer, but the sound of shoes banging around in the dryer in quite gruesome, especially when you may or may not be hungover. Matt turned the dryer off and said, "Here, you can wear these. Actually, you can have them." He gave me, and I wore all day, these garish, brick-red sneakers. They look like fucking clown shoes. But as a matter of fact, they're kinda comfortable. The Dude can handle it though, he can style and profile in anything.
The seven of us had dinner at Grills. As we sauntered up, I could hear a band doing a Doobie Brothers cover. "Roll black water, keep on rollin', Mississippi moon won't you keep on shinin' on me", was being decently sung in our general direction while we were being seated. Grills happens to have the BEST New England Clam Chowder EVER. Seriously, chowder fans, go there immediately! I had a couple Hurricanes with supper, and they were fairly potent.
By the time supper concluded, all the imbibing I'd done throughout the day led me to be "possessed by spirits". I love working on a nice slow drunk. The kind of buzz and mellow feeling that creeps up on you, and gently seizes you. The way Brad creeps up on a cheeseburger. Anyway, Erika and Brian left our company, and then there were five. We went to this cat Ben's place. Morgan and Curtis couldn't get Ben to answer the either of the two doors they tried, so we exercised our ability to enter a residence without the owner knowing. Morgan woke Ben up, and in a matter of moments, we're all on our way to Lido's Caberet. The details of this won't be discussed in mixed company, but I dropped quite a bit of cash last night. FYI- Make for damn sure one has plenty of cash when entering this establishment, for their ATM has a $4.00 surcharge. A FOUR DOLLAR SURCHARGE.
Ben dropped Curtis and I back at Matt's. Matt had left earlier with Morgan and Alisha, and then she split. So here's the scene. Morgan is sacked out on the couch, and I can't recall if this happened before or after Curtis barfed in the sink, but he grabs a marker and draws all over Morgan. I'm surprized he didn't wake up because we were laughing our asses off the whole time. I left Curtis doing that, and I went to bed.
I was roused from my slumber this morning by a terrible sound. Last night's extra-curricular drinking at Lido's allowed me to meet the requirements for a hangover. Having said that, the sound I heard was disturbing. It was on the level of that unique terror and pain-filled scream that a person makes when a manatee is eating them. And yes, manatees eat people. They are horrible beasts that should be hunted to extinction, and one day I'll prove that though they are the stupidest creature ever, they are smart enough to not let mankind know the truth about their carnivorous nature. At any rate, the sound was my cell phone's alarm going off. I turned it off and fell back asleep.
When I awoke, Dakota Time read 8:30. My class starts at 8. This knowledge caused me to proclaim, "OH SHIT! OH SHIT!! OH SHIT!!!" I got up, grabbed my gear, told Matt farewell, and tore the fuck outta there to get to class. I endured the last bit of class, and eased my way over to the nearest pornbox to put this epic into writing. Right now, I'm still feelin' rough, but I'll survive. By the time I get to Phoenix, she'll be rising...I mean, by the time I get to Sonny's, I'll be good again.
I've had a hell of a weekend, and I had great company all along the way. And in a few minutes, I'm fixin' to be homeward bound. So adios, gang, I'll catch ya on the flipside. Take it easy, if you can.
"It's all over but the shoutin', y'all" - Joe Cocker
Saturday night, after the Cocoa Wal-Mart 8 Hour Produce Endurance Test, I ran home to get prepared for an evenings with friends...and then drunkards. Some friends- Steve, Jason&Michelle, Andy; coworkers- Sean, Verniece, Aaron and his girlfriend Brittany; that Chip Jones miscreant(Who?! Chip Jones!), and I went to see Silent Hill. That movie might be called a little fucked up, but gnarly nonetheless. I think they were trying to explicate to you all the power of The Darkness, as it was referenced many times. It is a force to be reckoned with. At any rate, the rum a dumped into my pink lemonade also greatly helped my cinematic experience.
I shot the shit with everybody out in the parking lot for a few, and then eased my way toward the party I was invited to earlier that evening. With twelve pack of Bud Light in cooler, in hand, I rolled into the party, announcing my arrival with a boisterous WOOOOOO! and was greeted by a resounding WALKER! I placed my cooler pool side and drifted around, investigating the scene and talking with crowd.
Last party, I left my BIG FUCKING MUG there, so you can imagine how pleased The Dude was when it was returned to him...then taken by a cat named Michael and filled to the brim. Then of course he said, "CHUG THAT BITCH!" I got about half down, and someone topped it off again, and I was requisitioned to show how much of a recidivist I am/could be. Once again, got it half down, and moments later discovered I was afflicted with a cold burning sensation in my abdomen. Lemme repeat that, COLD BURNING sensation. Reflecting now on it, I realize that I probably shouldn't have chugged. I also probably shouldn't have answered when Michael yelled, "FLAIR, DO A KEG-STAND!", but I did, and it burned, burned, burned, the beer of fire.
The party slowly died by the half hour, but the true warriors kept on rockin' in the free world. I ended up engaging in discourse with Andrea Kent, a girl I had Algebra 2 with in high school. Still...looks...great. A friend of hers named Marley, a cute little spark plug who has a resemblance to WWE interview personality Maria, seemed to be having issues. Apparently a friend of hers "stole her car". I believe she even called her mother, and mother showed up. I should have asked her if she wanted a beer, but my manners obviously failed me, because I forgot to ask. Oh well. I intentively listened to Marley, nodded, then continued my circumambulation of Matt and Curtis' residence. Near the twilight of the evening, a girl, and I'm not sure if she was the Girl Who Took the Car or a friend of that girl, but she and this Marley girl proceeded to vocalize at each other, and at loud volumes..."BITCH, I WILL KICK YOUR ASS!!!"
They were separated, and we tried to calm the scene down. I grabbed my cooler and explained to the folks who were still there that problems happen to arise, and solutions can be found. I further narrated that I have a cooler of 12 ounce solutions and proceeded to pass them around. Not long after that, the once swinging party was reduced to myself, Curtis, Matt, a fellow named Kenny and his girl(Candi, I think?), and I think this other guy named Jeff was still there. On, and Jenn.
I can't remember why, but Kenny and I started cutting promos against each other. For the uncultured, a promo is when a professional wrestler talks about his opponent. We were operating in fine style too! Curtis got involved as well. Hell, I got him in the Figure Four Leg Lock. After it was all said and done, and we commented on how much ass that kicked, I grabbed Curtis and launched him into the pool with a Fallaway Slam.
The rest left, Matt and Jenn crashed, and Curtis & I did some drunk dialing. He and I ended up leaving Erika Lawhon a couple of six minute voicemails. The details are a little hazy on what was said, but...yeah. It was nearing 4am when we popped in Eurotrip. I found a vacant room and in a matter of seconds I was asleep faster than Rusty Hatchett fails.
I was awakened by the sound of Scotty Doesn't Know blaring through the walls!, into my ears!!, into my brain!!! I stumbled into the kitchen, then back into the bedroom, and then moments later gathered the strength to crawl back into the kitchen. Matt, Jenn, and I began cleaning. Matt inspired me, and I tried to throw Curtis into the pool. Sadly, my plan flopped. I was surprized when two peopled showed up OUT OF NOWHERE...or, as a matter of fact, the bedroom next to the one I slept in. It was Morgan and his gal, Alisha. The five of us bantered, and I went to get a beer. When I came back, that dirty, rotten scoundrel Curtis pushed me into the pool. Calm down, gang, I did manage to save the beer.
The beer and the swim, mainly the swim, renewed me with a powerful vigor! Jenn left, and we fiddle-fucked around until we went to Sonny's for lunch. We were joined by a lad who's name escapes me at the moment. I ended up walking out of there with a tea pitcher, which I may or may not return this evening. We made a quick stop at Albert-MOTHERFUCKINBASTARDASSIHATEYOUFUCKERS-son's for ice and cups because we were going boating. And it had to be the greatest maritime epic there ever was because we brought the keg of beer from the party on the boat with us!
We eased away from where Matt's boat makes berth, and as soon as we got past the fuckin' manatee zone, Matt hit it. We were flyin'. It had been forever since I'd been on a boat, so I'd forgotten how much fun it was. Our destination was Ski Island, and clearly other boaters shared in this. We chilled there for a bit. I worked on my tan while sipping beer from my newly aquired pitcher. It was then that I thought, could life get any better than this?
It kinda did. We left Ski Island and swung by Kelly Park to pick up Erika and her companion, Brian. Erika said hello in the form of "Walker, are you drunk?", and then she started talking and walked off before I could properly explain myself. Matt turned the boat around, and we went back to Ski Island. Some of the gang from the party the previous night was there. The second time around at the island, I ended up doing a keg-stand on the boat for the sheer glory of saying I did a keg-stand on a boat. Honestly, how many people do you know have done a keg-stand on a boat? Some people can brag about knocking a person out with a single punch, but have they drank beer vertically on a sea-faring craft? Anyways...
A while later, we loaded up and went tubing. I used to go tubing in the 8th grade with this annoying jackass I knew. It's amazing how the sands of time cover such fond memories as skidding across the water on a huge rubber tube. They should replace Curling and Women's Figure Skating with Tubing as an Olympic sport. Matt had this dire dismount. We were going near 40, and he hit face first! FACE-FUCKIN'-FIRST! As we were coming back to drop off some of the people who joined us, we had a "conversation" with the Coast Guard. After some bad noise and some crafty BS work by Morgan we were on our way.
The gaggle of us: Matt, Curtis, Morgan, Alisha, Erika, Brian, and myself cruised over to their friend's place. We arrived just in time to see someone perform an incredible Shooting Star Press off a dock. A ladder was aquired, and the lot of us started jumping off the roof over said dock. The roof had to be 20 feet above the water, so needless to say looking down kinda fucks you up. On my second jump, I dropped my baggies and went bare assed. I figured what the hell, story for the grandkids. My performance was overshadowed by a topless female, but I'm not complaining.
After the grand revelry of roof jumping, we docked the boat, and cleaned it. I took a seat at the end of the dock to watch the sunset and sip a beer and reflect on the great day. Erika joined me, and we started to have a conversation. We wholeheartedly agreed how beautiful the scene we laid our eyes upon was. Then I went to give Matt a hand with the last bit of clean-up, and haul the empty keg to the truck. We got the keg trucked, and went to gather our effects. Oh, Jeebus! I almost forgot about the shoes.
When I threw Curtis into the pool, he was wearing jeans and I was wear my baggies...and my shirt...and my Chuck Taylors. Before we left for Sonny's, I put them in the dryer, but the sound of shoes banging around in the dryer in quite gruesome, especially when you may or may not be hungover. Matt turned the dryer off and said, "Here, you can wear these. Actually, you can have them." He gave me, and I wore all day, these garish, brick-red sneakers. They look like fucking clown shoes. But as a matter of fact, they're kinda comfortable. The Dude can handle it though, he can style and profile in anything.
The seven of us had dinner at Grills. As we sauntered up, I could hear a band doing a Doobie Brothers cover. "Roll black water, keep on rollin', Mississippi moon won't you keep on shinin' on me", was being decently sung in our general direction while we were being seated. Grills happens to have the BEST New England Clam Chowder EVER. Seriously, chowder fans, go there immediately! I had a couple Hurricanes with supper, and they were fairly potent.
By the time supper concluded, all the imbibing I'd done throughout the day led me to be "possessed by spirits". I love working on a nice slow drunk. The kind of buzz and mellow feeling that creeps up on you, and gently seizes you. The way Brad creeps up on a cheeseburger. Anyway, Erika and Brian left our company, and then there were five. We went to this cat Ben's place. Morgan and Curtis couldn't get Ben to answer the either of the two doors they tried, so we exercised our ability to enter a residence without the owner knowing. Morgan woke Ben up, and in a matter of moments, we're all on our way to Lido's Caberet. The details of this won't be discussed in mixed company, but I dropped quite a bit of cash last night. FYI- Make for damn sure one has plenty of cash when entering this establishment, for their ATM has a $4.00 surcharge. A FOUR DOLLAR SURCHARGE.
Ben dropped Curtis and I back at Matt's. Matt had left earlier with Morgan and Alisha, and then she split. So here's the scene. Morgan is sacked out on the couch, and I can't recall if this happened before or after Curtis barfed in the sink, but he grabs a marker and draws all over Morgan. I'm surprized he didn't wake up because we were laughing our asses off the whole time. I left Curtis doing that, and I went to bed.
I was roused from my slumber this morning by a terrible sound. Last night's extra-curricular drinking at Lido's allowed me to meet the requirements for a hangover. Having said that, the sound I heard was disturbing. It was on the level of that unique terror and pain-filled scream that a person makes when a manatee is eating them. And yes, manatees eat people. They are horrible beasts that should be hunted to extinction, and one day I'll prove that though they are the stupidest creature ever, they are smart enough to not let mankind know the truth about their carnivorous nature. At any rate, the sound was my cell phone's alarm going off. I turned it off and fell back asleep.
When I awoke, Dakota Time read 8:30. My class starts at 8. This knowledge caused me to proclaim, "OH SHIT! OH SHIT!! OH SHIT!!!" I got up, grabbed my gear, told Matt farewell, and tore the fuck outta there to get to class. I endured the last bit of class, and eased my way over to the nearest pornbox to put this epic into writing. Right now, I'm still feelin' rough, but I'll survive. By the time I get to Phoenix, she'll be rising...I mean, by the time I get to Sonny's, I'll be good again.
I've had a hell of a weekend, and I had great company all along the way. And in a few minutes, I'm fixin' to be homeward bound. So adios, gang, I'll catch ya on the flipside. Take it easy, if you can.
"It's all over but the shoutin', y'all" - Joe Cocker