So Long Chumps and Chumpettes!
I guess 'so long' isn't really all that suitable, as I'm not really going anywhere -- I've already been gone so 'Hey Chumps and Chumpettes' would be more suitable.
I'm sitting on the floor of my ever more livable living room, watching the doctors on Nip/Tuck remove an IMMENSELY fat woman from the couch she hasn't left in three years wondering "why am I watching this?" Marisa can give me the play by play on this deal, so I'm slowly becoming acquainted with the show -- same goes for the OC (shiver) and Lost (which I regret to say I find myself becoming interested in). I suppose this is all okay because I'm forcing her to participate in my television rituals -- Buffy, Firefly, and the first season of the new Battlestar Galactica (best show on TV people, I shit you not)
Life here is like living in an anime -- we're surrounded by elegant trees and asian people, all nestled between gleaming modern high rises and lustrous apartment towers, all of which just begging to be leveled by an Eva in a life or ultimate world destruction struggle with an eight tentacled two hundered meter tall Angel -- so my life is still pretty much as boring as it used to be.
But things here have not always been boring.
On our first night here, Marisa and I were lounging on the air mattress that uselessly served as our bed the first two nights blissfully watching 'The Big Lebowski' (Stay outta Malibu Lebowski *KICK* Stay outta Malibu DEADBEAT!)when there was this rattling at the door, as if someone were trying to get in past our two chain locks, deadbolt and knob lock -- I, being the alert genius that I am, decided to ignore it and believe it to be nothing, Marisa nearly peed herself, but I assured her it was nothing. (silly Steve.) A moment later the same thing, longer and more pronounced, with a voice.
So of course Marisa isn't going to get up to see what crackhead is trying to force his way into our apartment, being the one with the testicles, this is of course my job. I go strait to the door, and see a man who looks like sam Elliot wearing Chuck Bakers hat and Brian Setzers zoot suit through the peephole. The rest of the altercation went reasonably as such:
ME: (naked) What the hell do you want?
SAM ELLIOT: smf...hlmmmmmhgnol...rrrr....how much rent do you pay?...mmejghg...wiflflflfl....
ME: (weilding an aluminum broom handle -- 'd4-3 dmg') Get the fuck outta here man.
SAM ELLIOT: mfmmloeqoqo...fljeofhohaohfoj...what's your rent...(tries handle again)
ME: (everyone knows how much I like stupid drunks -- my friends excepted of course) GET THE @!$#*&%@@ FUCK OUTTA HERE!!! (there is no way for me to convey over the internet the rage in my voice at this point, that old man would have literally been in so much god damned trouble if I wasn't stark sexy naked at that point -- Everyone knows I'm quite the wuss but MM has helped develop my uncontrolled anger, and the minute somebody scares MY girl on our most vulnerable night in town {our first} all fear leaves me and is replaced by a grim determination that would make gas chamber operators shudder.)
So what could top that as our first night in town? How about the woman in Money Mart who says:
"I feel for all those Hurricane victims, but lets not forget that god sent that Hurricane for a reason"
"Pardon?"
"Oh indeed, such a place full of sin, just like god sent that Tsunami to rescue the souls of all those children in sex slavery in south east asia."
You'd think I'm making this up its so...odd. (that's the word I will use to prevent a diatribe of mass proportions) -- nothing like putting a happy Christian view on one of the worst disasters to ever strike the third world (the United States not withstanding -- sorry Spunkytwit!) I guess it's easy for this woman in the western world to call two hundred thousand deaths a 'good thing' when her exposure to poverty is praying for the homeless man on the corner (but having no sympathy for his plight as he is not a 'devout christian'...)
Rrrrr
What they say is true. That bullet proof (sorry, 'resistant') glass is there to protect the customers, not to protect us. For every would be robber that comes through our lobby there are easily two hundred crack whore parents who would rather pay money to Clarence their corner dealer than dish it out for Simulac. This job may make me money but it is still poisoning my soul with Human waste, and not the kind you can flush down the toilet...unless you cut them up real small and puree them in our quesinart.
But lets now talk about the future...
I miss you all so very very much, (in whatever city you dwell) my world is online now, and you will hear more from me as life continues.
Goodbye losers whom I have always hated --
Don't touch my stuff after I'm gone !
(it's booby trapped!)
How many more Benderisms can I fit into this?
I'm sitting on the floor of my ever more livable living room, watching the doctors on Nip/Tuck remove an IMMENSELY fat woman from the couch she hasn't left in three years wondering "why am I watching this?" Marisa can give me the play by play on this deal, so I'm slowly becoming acquainted with the show -- same goes for the OC (shiver) and Lost (which I regret to say I find myself becoming interested in). I suppose this is all okay because I'm forcing her to participate in my television rituals -- Buffy, Firefly, and the first season of the new Battlestar Galactica (best show on TV people, I shit you not)
Life here is like living in an anime -- we're surrounded by elegant trees and asian people, all nestled between gleaming modern high rises and lustrous apartment towers, all of which just begging to be leveled by an Eva in a life or ultimate world destruction struggle with an eight tentacled two hundered meter tall Angel -- so my life is still pretty much as boring as it used to be.
But things here have not always been boring.
On our first night here, Marisa and I were lounging on the air mattress that uselessly served as our bed the first two nights blissfully watching 'The Big Lebowski' (Stay outta Malibu Lebowski *KICK* Stay outta Malibu DEADBEAT!)when there was this rattling at the door, as if someone were trying to get in past our two chain locks, deadbolt and knob lock -- I, being the alert genius that I am, decided to ignore it and believe it to be nothing, Marisa nearly peed herself, but I assured her it was nothing. (silly Steve.) A moment later the same thing, longer and more pronounced, with a voice.
So of course Marisa isn't going to get up to see what crackhead is trying to force his way into our apartment, being the one with the testicles, this is of course my job. I go strait to the door, and see a man who looks like sam Elliot wearing Chuck Bakers hat and Brian Setzers zoot suit through the peephole. The rest of the altercation went reasonably as such:
ME: (naked) What the hell do you want?
SAM ELLIOT: smf...hlmmmmmhgnol...rrrr....how much rent do you pay?...mmejghg...wiflflflfl....
ME: (weilding an aluminum broom handle -- 'd4-3 dmg') Get the fuck outta here man.
SAM ELLIOT: mfmmloeqoqo...fljeofhohaohfoj...what's your rent...(tries handle again)
ME: (everyone knows how much I like stupid drunks -- my friends excepted of course) GET THE @!$#*&%@@ FUCK OUTTA HERE!!! (there is no way for me to convey over the internet the rage in my voice at this point, that old man would have literally been in so much god damned trouble if I wasn't stark sexy naked at that point -- Everyone knows I'm quite the wuss but MM has helped develop my uncontrolled anger, and the minute somebody scares MY girl on our most vulnerable night in town {our first} all fear leaves me and is replaced by a grim determination that would make gas chamber operators shudder.)
So what could top that as our first night in town? How about the woman in Money Mart who says:
"I feel for all those Hurricane victims, but lets not forget that god sent that Hurricane for a reason"
"Pardon?"
"Oh indeed, such a place full of sin, just like god sent that Tsunami to rescue the souls of all those children in sex slavery in south east asia."
You'd think I'm making this up its so...odd. (that's the word I will use to prevent a diatribe of mass proportions) -- nothing like putting a happy Christian view on one of the worst disasters to ever strike the third world (the United States not withstanding -- sorry Spunkytwit!) I guess it's easy for this woman in the western world to call two hundred thousand deaths a 'good thing' when her exposure to poverty is praying for the homeless man on the corner (but having no sympathy for his plight as he is not a 'devout christian'...)
Rrrrr
What they say is true. That bullet proof (sorry, 'resistant') glass is there to protect the customers, not to protect us. For every would be robber that comes through our lobby there are easily two hundred crack whore parents who would rather pay money to Clarence their corner dealer than dish it out for Simulac. This job may make me money but it is still poisoning my soul with Human waste, and not the kind you can flush down the toilet...unless you cut them up real small and puree them in our quesinart.
But lets now talk about the future...
I miss you all so very very much, (in whatever city you dwell) my world is online now, and you will hear more from me as life continues.
Goodbye losers whom I have always hated --
Don't touch my stuff after I'm gone !
(it's booby trapped!)
How many more Benderisms can I fit into this?