I’d Rather Trade For A Dodge Viper [Friday Thoughts W/ TeeCoZee]
Good Moleman. Aw, Marge, this is so depressing. My only hope is this homemade Prozac. Hmm…needs more dog. It’s Friday, February 7th, Twenty Twenty. The weather in Brooklyn is 34° & Pantone 19-4122 and somewhere, somebody can’t figure out what to watch. Five hundred-plus channels of the H-est D Quality and it’s nothing but garbage. He comes across Robocop, but he’s not a subscriber to Cinemax 8. Nor does he pay for Starz Texas, where he could be watching The Flintstones: Viva Rock Vegas. Finally, he lands on Freddy Got Fingered on Turner Classic Movies. It’s probably part of their Rip Torn Marathon. RIP Rip. Hopefully he gets more recognition from the academy in the afterlife. Unbeknownst to him, this version is heavily censored and his Hot Pocket is already cold. He could’ve easily solved this by putting in the VCD of Freddy from the getgo and getting right to the microwaved goodness. But he still doesn’t mind. He’s just glad he found something. And me? I always get sucked into Goodfellas when it’s censored and stretched out to 5 hours. The DVD is all the way on the side of the room. Why would I ever use it? I’ve got better things to do. I also have some things on my mind…
– I wrote that introduction at 10:30 this morning. And then I proceeded to procrastinate for 12 hours. Now there’s only an hour and a half left in the day. My only reader, Mom, even texted me, wondering if I was okay. I’m okay, Mom. I’m just lazy. I’m gonna have to power through this. In effect, I apologize for the length and sloppiness. But I don’t apologize for its content.
Okay, I’m sorry about its content.
– It’s that sexy and terrible time of the year where I get hopelessly anxious. Not only am I longing for the start of Spring Training, I’ve also been staring at the proverbial water on the stove, waiting for it to get hot enough to boil. I spent days with my face glued to the phone screen, refreshing, refreshing, refreshing. By Monday night, I felt like my soul had been sucked out of my body. Unbeknownst to me, my phone had taken my brain and hid it in a cabin on the North Pole. But I kept refreshing and refreshing some more. I knew at any moment, any second, maybe even seconds ago, the stove would get to cooking. And a few days ago, it finally did just that. That might’ve been because a few teams decided to put a flamethrower to it, assuming that every object in sight were an alien. Yes, it actually happened. The Dodgers actually made a move. Kind of. Not really. It hasn’t happened yet. But it happened. And we’re still waiting for it to happen. At this point, I am totally aware that you, the reader, fall into one of two categories. They are:
a. People that aren’t aware of the Mookie Betts trade and probably don’t care or understand.
b. People that are sick of hearing about the Mookie Betts trade.
In order to satisfy both parties, this will be the last time I say Mookie Betts. Instead, I’ll break the situation down in other terms:
I own a lot of cars. Like a disgusting amount of cars. Also, assorted vehicles. A lot of assorted vehicles. Motorcycles, boats, whatever. If it moves on it’s own, I own it. And for some reason, I always lose the Annual All Saints Day Vehicle Collection Contest Thing By The River [AASDVCCTBTR for short]. I know that I have a solid collection and a pricey one at that. All I need is that one special piece to put me over the top. I really need…Mark’s 1995 Dodge Viper. The holy grail of cool cars. Probably the second or third coolest vehicle in the world. And Mark is willing to part with it, because he needs the money for his coke habit. But of course he wants something back. I’m unwilling to give up any of my new cars, but I’m willing to toss him a first generation Tesla for his troubles. But Mark also insists that I take his tugboat, which is a huge spatial and financial strain. He’ll pay for half of the insurance and docking fees, but I’m responsible for the upkeep and the risk of it making my collection look bad. But I believe that with the right amount of elbow grease, I can make that tug boat shine again. Mark still isn’t pleased. He wants more. So I call up my buddy Gabe and I offer him my 2014 Subaru if he was willing to give Mark his bicycle. Gabe really needs my reliable car and his bicycle is in tip-top shape. He agrees, Mark agrees, we’re all happy. But now I have too much stuff, so I call up my neighbor, Jeffy, and offer him my speedboat and 2012 Ford Taurus for next to nothing. He agrees, but I won’t give Jeffy shit until the deals with Mark and Gabe go through. But then there’s a problem: Mark is pissed. He thought Gabe was giving him a motorcycle. What. The. Fuck. Mark knew fully well that he was getting a bicycle, but because of the terms of the trade, he claims that he hates it because it’s “broken”. But the only way in which it’s broken is in it’s lack of motor, which it never claimed to have in the first place. In other words, Mark got hosed and now he’s backtracking like a little bitch. Meanwhile, Jeffy is getting mad as hell because he promised some bimbo to take her on a spin on the speedboat next weekend. And I’m mad because I want my motherfucking Dodge Viper [and Tugboat, I guess] and the only reason why I don’t have it is because Gabe has shitty things. So we’re at an impasse, nobody is happy, we’re all miserable and the AASDVCCTBTR trials start in SEVEN FUCKING DAYS.
This is, essentially, what’s going on with the hot stove. Is it opening day yet?
– This week, Zach wrote a very Zach-like piece about the importance of eating oranges. And I’m here to tell you that it’s all bullshit. You don’t need to eat oranges to be healthy in the winter. Vitamin C culture has always made me agitated. People go so far out of their way to get Vitamin C. They’ll eat oranges, chug gallons of orange juice or even put a disgusting powder in their water and chug it. Everybody’s always doing things to get their vitamin C and bragging about it. Vitamin C comes in a pill, dummy. You can just take a couple of pills in the morning and then eat and drink whatever the fuck you want. It’s so easy! It’s great! Everyone should be doing it! Pills are even the cheapest way to get Vitamin C. You have no excuse. You can be immune to colds in a matter of seconds and then go on with your life! Oranges are a sham! Also, they give me heartburn! It hurts a lot! I’m getting too old for citrus!
Apples, on the other hand, those things fucking rock. They don’t give me heartburn, they make me poop regularly and they taste amazing! I eat one every night in bed, much to the chagrin of my wonderful, sleepy wife that has to listen to me eat apples. And no, I don’t believe that they keep the doctor away. I’m not 8. I just like getting cozy into bed, turning on the Simpsons and munching on my appy-apple. It’s a great way to end the day and you should do it too, no matter how much your significant other protests.
– Top 5 Topics That Rachel Told Me To Write About, But I Refuse To:
4) Girl Scout Trefoils
I refuse to write about these subjects because they are all edible objects that I either don’t enjoy or aren’t allowed to enjoy. And I’ve already written too much about eating things. I’m not a food cricket. I’m just a boy, starving for ideas on what to write about every week.
Try this trick over the weekend: Take your vitamins. You won’t have to drink your milk.
Have a Hulky Weekend, everyone!