I figured if Axl Rose can release an album, I can write a blog. I’ll catch you up on my life at a later date, so why don’t you get acquainted with some of the people in my life:
The Who (oh, one other thing-- This blog is essentially for the amusment of those listed, so if you're not listed, you'll be bored. And you're probably a jerk)
My brother Jay, my dad, my mom, my sister Anne, my girlfriend Jamie, and my friend Hampton
Conventional Reasons to Like These People:
Jay: In the past, he was often punctual.
Dad: He’s always up for some drunken Taco Johns. Once when I was little I went with him as he drove for some drunken Taco Johns (you read that right) and he rather vehemently decried one of Jay’s friends for trying to steal all our winter hats. Of course, no one ever actually tried to steal our winter hats.
Mom: She takes care of people. For instance, she sometimes will go get my dad Taco Johns, so he doesn’t drunkenly run over nuns and school children on his way to the drive-thru.
Anne: Sometimes she’s overly sarcastic to other people and more or less leaves you alone.
Jamie: She sleeps 17 hours a day, so if she’s bothering you, you just need to wait her out. You know how some people (douchebags) say they work 25 hour days? Jamie added an extra hour to her day so she could sneak in another nap.
Hampton: You can always silence his calls.
Why I Actually Like These People:
Jay: Last weekend he claimed he calls his wife Kelsey “Red Skittle Vagina Candy.” Her reaction made me think he probably doesn’t call her this.
Dad: Once, at breakfast, my family was having a discussion about what kind of movie biopic would eventually be made about us (because it’s inevitable, right?). My dad said he wanted his movie to be “a poor black boy Lion King” story. He was very excited about this.
Mom: She’s disgusting. She refers to pooping as “brown potty” and has my and Jay’s game of “who can say the grossest thing?” into an art form. Here’s an exchange that took place this weekend:
Jay (Contemplative, then with conviction): I don’t know what I’d say after a blowjob.. Everyone should have a post-fellatio buzzword!
(Laughter, then silence)
Mom: Lord knows I do.
(Everyone vomits quietly)
Anne: She’s a great communicator. For example, if you’re having a conversation she doesn’t approve of, she’ll use her polite voice and say, “change the subject, this is boring,” or “Ugh! I don’t care what you’re talking about!” Then she’ll talk to you for hours about High School Musical.
Jamie: I’m going to answer this by getting you up to date on Jamie’s weekly schedule. Here’s how she actually spends her week:
Monday
Sleep until 5:30 pm
Eat
Workout
Eat
Nap
Eat
Pout
Tuesday
Sleep until 5:30 pm
Eat
Nap
Workout
Eat
Nap
Whine about getting a second dog
Wednesday
Sleep until 6:00 pm
Wake up, then nap
Eat
Make up song, sing it acapella (don’t stop singing, even if Dallas begs)
Tell Dallas you’ll do the dishes
Thursday
Sleep until 6:00 pm
Pout—refuse to smile or enjoy life
Take NO Shotgun—get really hyper
Try to annoy Dallas
Pout when it works
Nap
Workout
Friday
Sleep until 6:30 pm
Take something too seriously, but refuse to admit anger
Get mad at Dallas for asking why you are mad
Give Dallas a pizza cutter?
Make an excuse about why you haven’t done the dishes
Saturday
Sleep
Nap
Sleep
Sunday
Sleep until 5:30 pm
Thank Dallas for doing the dishes
I mean, how could you not love someone like that?
Hampton: He is apathy incarnate. He once ate only peanut butter and Oreo cookies for almost two months, simply because he forgot to eat other things. He lived in an apartment for an entire year without putting sheets on his bed—he thought it was a waste of time because he was planning on moving out someday.
Less Desirable Qualities:
Jay: He’s very very fun again, which makes him much more difficult to mock.
Dad: He’s blindly Republican despite overwhelming evidence the GOP is pure, unadulterated evil. Also, he steadfastly refuses to monetarily support me if I retire when I want/deserve to, in April 2009.
Mom: She’s blindly Republican just because other people are Democrats. Don’t look for the logic there. She felt that Sarah Palin had/has merit as a leader in government. Don’t look for the logic there, either. She waits until lunch or dinner to bring up horrific car accidents or ask us about our bowel movements That last one might have been just for me, though, because I used to only make brown potty once a week. Hey Mom, I’m up to once a day! Hooray for modern science!
Anne: She has cool friends, hip taste in clothes and music, and just entered college. Basically, when God sucked all the youth and fun out of your life, he gave it to people like Anne. You should resent her for this—now you’re stuck with flab and French onion party dip stains on your sweatpants.
Jamie: See List Above
Hampton: Some of my clothes still smell from when he refused to shower freshman year of college. No joke! One particular smelly Sunday I asked him, “Hey Hampty-Hamp, why do you smell as if you were peed on and covered in stink bait and buried in hot, sweaty manure and then spent five years of your life living in the dumpster behind a Vietnamese whorehouse/restaurant?”
Hampton replied, “I showered on Thursday. Like you shower on the weekend.” HE THOUGHT PEOPLE DIDN’T SHOWER ON THE WEEKEND! The hell?
Anyhoo, not a long blog. I’m just getting back in the swing of it, so sorry if it sucked. But don’t worry, I’ll post again when Axl’s robot sentience puts out his next album, recorded in a studio on Mars in the year 2064.
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6 comments:
oh my god. you're back.
and to refute your early point: i was not profiled but enjoyed your stylings profusely. so, you failed at being entertaining to an exclusive audience. i expect more from you down the road, say in a year and a half when your next bloglet appears.
couldn't have been happier to see that it was your blog that moved to the top of jay's treasured blogs i like list.
Oh, "Sweet Child O' Mine," I am so glad you're back! Your blog is awesome. Keep 'em coming.
Dearest Dallas,
I've been meaning to share with you a new apathetic moment for some days now, and since you didn't answer your phone the past four times I've called you so I could tell you about it, now seems the best venue for the tale:
For the past several years I've wanted a hooded sweatshirt. But I didn't know where to find one. Common sense would say any clothing store or retail warehouse like Target or Wal-Mart would probably have what I was looking for. But no, this did not occur to me. I figured one of those stores would carry such a product, but not one in my area.
Fast forward to about a week ago, when I was out buying a new pair of pants for work at a Target store. While in the men's department, I found a hooded sweatshirt, a red number much like I'd been pining for for the past several years. Now seemed like a great time to buy it, as California has gotten relatively cold the past several weeks. Then I saw the price tag. $10.99. This made me stall for about fifteen minutes. I was already buying pants. DId I really need a hooded sweatshirt? I could probably wait out winter over the next several months and do without it, and just be cold until it warms up again. After fifteen minutes of deliberation, I came to and decided to buy the hooded sweatshirt that I am wearing right now as I type. The downside was I would have to shave my food budget for the next two weeks to recoup the expense.
As for my least likable quality, you make it sound like it was a common occurrence. When in reality, it was only that one weekend that I had decided I was going to do nothing but play Castlevania all weekend, which included not showering. It was unfortunate it had to also be the same weekend I was peed on and covered in stink bait and buried in hot, sweaty manure and then spent five years of my life living in the dumpster behind a Vietnamese whorehouse/restaurant. Besides, the rest of that week I spent taking my customary 45 minute showers nightly.
High School Musical is great. You should be honored that I talk about it with you
I was forced against my will by one of the aforementioned people to read your blog. He gave me the impression I would be entertained, even though you specifically stated that I wouldn’t. I reminded him of what your blog said, but the stubborn fool insisted. (Not surprising act # 1)
I guess he assumed that because I am so madly in love with him, that I would get pure unselfish enjoyment out of reading the parts about Mr. Fashionably Late himself. (Not surprising act #2)
Anyways, he practically read the thing out loud to me over my shoulder. Stopping, you must know, multiple times to laugh hysterically at the parts where he was mentioned.
“Isn’t this blog hilarious? Dallas is such a superb writer.” He commented, alluding to the fact that you had written some funny things.
After closer observation, I have to say; I don’t think he was laughing at what you had written. I’m pretty sure he was laughing at all the hilarious things he had said and done. Which makes his actions totally contradict his words. (Not surprising act #3)
As I finished reading the blog, with the giggling boy still hovering over my shoulder, I couldn’t help but notice I didn’t get the same satisfaction out of the reading as Mr. Peanut Butter M&M Penis Candy.
Had he completely ruined this experience for me, or am I just… a jerk?
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