I'd been saving this box for weeks now, but like a monkey jonsing for a banana, or a crack whore who NEEDS a big fat cock in her mouth, I found that I couldn't hold off any longer. I opened up my last box of Girl Scout Cookies that I had stored in my freezer. I saved the best for last: Samoas. I would fuck a fat Eskimo woman for a box of Samoas. Hell, I've already given a reach around to an Eskimo man for one. Quite honestly, I was very surprised that I had the will power to hold off on simply devouring these Samoas (container and all) for so long (though I was originally trying to save them for this year's scheduled Uber Week in November). Usually I don't sleep the night my Girl Scout Cookie order comes in: I eat them all (usually a clean dozen boxes) in one sitting, and then stay up till dawn due to an even mix of sugar-buzz and aggressive indegestion.
Anyway, I couldn't supress the urge for chocolate, coconut, and whatever the hell the rest of those heavenly cookies are made of, and I ripped the front of the box clean off... But then I stopped myself and reminded my brain that this was in fact the LAST box of these sweet, sweet baked treats that I'd be able to enjoy for close to a year. I then decided that the best way to savor each and every bite was to write a review about it. Here we fucking go!
The first cookie was a little artery-clogging bit of Nirvana — especially still partially frozen. I smiled with every chew. I held back though and only took small bites, and ate that dainty confectionary in 4 tiny chunks. I then followed it with a few sips of 2% milk. The second cookie went a little faster, as I chomped it down in only 2 bites, and barely chewed what was in my mouth at all. I took a giant gulp of milk which spilled all over my face and chin like a Thai hooker on "Thai Hooker Coupon Day" and found myself sucking down 4 more cookies in less than 10 seconds. I blew my load in my pants and realized that I needed help (not from the load blowing, that happens all the time, and it's usually just a symptom of the greater problem at hand... Usually). That's when I called up Kuni. He always makes me lose my appetite. His simple presence would curb my enthusiasm for my chocolatey prey. Sometimes I even vomit simply because he looks at me.
I tried that trick with the rubber band on my wrist (pulling it and then letting it slap my skin) whenever the urge hit me to eat another tasty treat, but I still scarfed down 3 more in the half an hour it took for Kuni to arrive. He rang the doorbell like he always did (trying to play "Living La Vida Loca" with its chimes), and the bile started creeping up my throat! Hurray!
I hid the box of Samoas just before Kuni walked into my foyer with a shit-eating grin and a declaration of "Yes! The Kuni is in the house! Now to party with the pants!" I tried to explain to him that this was not in fact a party, let alone a party in his, my, or anybody's pants (unless it was his sister, Kim-Chi's), but it was too late; Kuni had already taken off his jeans and was swinging them around his head like a retarded rodeo clown. He was doing his job TOO well... Now I never wanted to eat anything ever again.
I eventually settled Kuni down and got him to agree to start wearing his jeans again if I let him watch the shitty MASH marathon on TVLand. My GOD I loathe that show. The original movie is one of the funniest flicks ever made, but the spin-off TV series was just abysmal. None of the charm, none of the funny, and none of the actors (well, except for Radar) from the movie made the transition to the series... And yet my babysitter FORCED my brother, sister, and I to watch this fucking filth instead of The Muppet Show when we were all little kids. Goddammit! The Korean War wasn't good for anything... Although, without it we'd have no Kim Jong-Il, and if we had no Kim Jong-Il we'd never have a Team America: World Police. So I guess the Korean War was good for fantastic movies, but just really shitty television programming.
Anyway, after the ninth episode of Klinger dressing up in a wedding gown to get discharged, and the MASH crew befriending some local yokels and bettering themselves and their Asian brethren in the process, I found that I couldn't take any more. I grabbed the remote away from the giggling Kuni, slapped him in the face (for a myriad of reasons), and then changed the channel to G4, hoping there was some Ninja Warrior on. Unfortunately it was not. Attack of the Show was on (the absolute WORST thing basic cable has ever shat out of its gaping hole upon the general public, like a pile of raw sewage into the wide-eyed stare of an innocent toddler who had no idea that anything could possibly replace The Tom Green Show as the worst thing EVER broadcast across the nation's television screens). I swear to every uncaring diety ever created, those two (AotS) hosts are so painful to watch with their horrid (and UNwitty) back and forth banter, and their terrible non-abilities to read cue cards — cue cards covered in lame jokes that would make Oscar presenters shake their heads in disbelief — not to mention the fact that their "news" is always two to three days late, and their interviews with gaming and internet gods are only 90 seconds long and basically consist of questions like "So, you guys are awesome... I love that game where you shoot that big gun at aliens.... That was awesome! Did you... Did you come up with that, like, on your own?" Honestly, the best thing that AotS ever did was that one quick interview with that guy from Something Awful, in which he just blatantly lied and lied with every question asked. His lies were so obvious (like when asked about the forums on the SA site he'd say, "Oh yeah, we have forums... Well, we CHARGE people to use them, but then we kick them right off and then hunt them down in the real world. See, we figure that if they have enough cash to blow $10 on our shitty forum then they must be LOADED, so then we just go over and rob them. Or rape them. We love rape."). The WORST thing Attack of the Show ever did was NAME itself after a SHITTY George Lucas movie. Well, that and hire the two most non-charismatic hosts ever crapped out of a woman (well, I don't know it was a woman). But I digress.
My point is that Ninja Warrior wasn't on, but Kuni wanted to keep watching AotS... Because he is a retarded human being with the IQ of a stillborn. That's when the smackdown began.
I tried to change the channel again (to Comedy Central, MTV, the History Channel, E!, ANYTHING else), but Kuni had grabbed a lamp and bashed it into my skull with a look of absolute anger and fear on his face. I retaliated by hitting him with the small table that the lamp had been on before it turned into a thousand little pieces on the couch and floor. Kuni then tried to tackle me, but he's only like 5'1" and 98lbs, and so I picked him up and body slammed him into my brick fireplace. Then he had to go and reach for the fire poker. All I could think to do was run to my bedroom and grab the Big Stick of Justice... God, it makes me feel like a man to swing that thing around like one of those neanderthals in the beginning of 2001 - A Space Odyssey. I think my balls get hairier every time I handle it too.
Anyway, I came at Kuni with the Big Stick of Justice, and he started screaming "Bonzaaaiiiiiiiiiii" and charging me like a samurai on a kamikaze mission. Just before either of us connected though, his cell phone rang. It was the ring tone that he uses for his sister, so we both stopped what we were doing and he answered it. After a few "Uh huh"s and "Yup"s Kuni finally said, "Kim-Chi, yes, I think the problem to your solution is to sending me pictures of your bosom. Yes. Use camera on phone. Thank you!" Then we both crowded around the little LCD screen on his phone and marveled at Kim-Chi's awesome Oriental globes. After a moment I.... had to use the bathroom, but when I came back to my living room I found that Kuni was back to watching Attack of the Show (the gay guy-host stuttered out a five second insult to his co-host, for which he then mugged for the camera, and then turned and apologized to the bitch who didn't seem to have gotten it anyway). That's when I picked up the Big Stick of Justice again and smashed it into my TV set 3 or 4 times until the picture and sound went dead. Then I pointed at Kuni like the evil monkey that lives in Chris Griffin's closet. He got the hint and got up, brushed himself off, walked to my front door, turned to me and said, "And a good day to you, sir." Then he left.
I breathed a sigh of relief and thought to myself "Yes, getting Kuni to leave was worth a $2,000 TV." Then I went to get the box of Samoas out again and simply finish them up before I got any more ideas in my head regarding, well, anything. So I pulled the box out of its hiding place and was about to take a bite when I noticed that what I had in my hand was not a tasty baked good, but was instead dog droppings. All of the remaining cookies had been replaced with doggy donuts... Fresh ones. My pissed-offness was quickly replaced with a kind of admiration for the guy. Honestly, how did he do it? I didn't leave him alone for more than what, 3 minutes? Kuni, I salute you!
Fantastic day for the Kuni! Lots of Mash, lots of Attack of my Show, and then some beating the Rossman with a fire stick! Absolute fantastic! Many, many joyous dreams has Kuni had of such days! Then Kuni founds the box of cookies Rossman try to hide. Sneaky, but Kuni sneakier... Only cookies tastes like poo. Kuni KNOWS. Trust in the Kuni. After the many poo cookies Kuni was not to feeling well and Kuni has to go diarhea poo in Rossman's bushes. Even with all the poos, it is great, fantastic Kuni day!
Okay, so I was bored a couple of days ago. You know, after being unemployed for a few years you really end up just doing the same shit day in and day out... So I decided to see what the Rossman's fridge was up to... See if it was still doing those sit-ups in order to get a nice cold six-pack or two... When I got there though the Rossman must not have even heard me come in since he was yelling at Kuni like the guy just personally insulted his mother's reproductive capabilities or something. So I just made myself at home and hit the kitchen. I made it through about 8 longnecks when I noticed a box of -- what I thought was extinct! -- Girl Scout Cookies hiding behind the rotten and fur-covered fruit in his crisper in the refridgerator... I think that it was once some strawberries, a couple of oranges, and some apples. No idea if the apples were delishious red or granny smith.... Or fuck, even pears.
I ate the remaining dozen or so cookies in a few seconds, and then downed them with the last 3 brews in the place, but then I started to feel bad. Not for the Rossman and his ex-cookies, but I started to feel bad for me, and what the Rossman might do to me if he noticed that I ate his cookies... He must have been saving them for weeks! That's when I snuck out the garage door, found the pile of dog shit that the Rossman's neighbors have their pooches leave in his backyard — he hasn't mowed in years, so he never even notices it despite the sewage treatment plant-stench that the pile gives off that you can even smell inside the house — and with a garden spade I patted a few patties into cookie-shapes, and then replaced 12 of the empty spaces in the box with my shitty works of art. Then I got the fuck out of Dodge.