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Note to self 246: 11/10/2004
This week was kind of boring and all... Except for when I had the shady Dr. Dave turn me into a god. That was pretty cool. See, it all started on Saturday when I actually made somebody bow down before me and worship me. That felt good. My ego was stroked and I just had to have more adoration aimed at me. So I went to the good doctor and told him, "Deify me!" And the operation began. I awoke the following day and found a very sharp, spinning and glowing halo above my head. After bandaging my fingers up, I admired the saintly long locks and beard that Dr. Dave had grafted to my skull. Very nice. The robes were a groovy touch too. I also found, when I tried to take a bath, that I could walk on top of water... Unfortunately I couldn't submerse myself, but it was still a pretty cool effect. I then drove over to Lake Lanier in order to convert all the heathen sunbathers into Rossmanites. I walked out about 100 yards into the lake and began preaching from the Book of Ross (mainly my old Examiner pieces), and telling all the people that gathered that they were all very very naughty, and that the only way for them to make it into my eternal kingdom was to give me lots of money which I would then bless and keep. Just as 2 or 3 of the 10 people who gathered around started reaching for their wallets, one of the "aqua-repulsor units" that Dr. Dave had surgetically implated in my feet started to short circuit and I found that I was flipped upside down in the water with only my right sandalled foot sticking out into the air, repulsing the water above it. How very ungodlike... The next thing I knew I found myself on a cross next to Georgia 400 with a sign nailed above my head that read "Here lies King Kong's balls." Goddammit! I hate being crucified!
Note to self 245: 11/03/2004
The weekends in which good stuff happens to you that you didn't even plan on are the best. This Saturday, I was planning to crash whatever sort of Halloween social event that Team Greenwood may have had planned (horror movies, LANing, scaring the shit out of costumed tots), but instead I had a suprise visit early that morning (actually woke me up) from somebody I hadn't seen in well over a year. Pleasantness ensued. I don't think I even left the house until early Sunday afternoon when my special Guest finally said she had to leave.
That alone would have made for a great weekend (well, that and all the left over candy from the lack of "T or T"ers), but soon after that Bob From the Future paid me a social call, and then proceeded to take me on a temporal hunt for some robot demons that that he had accidently let loose in the time stream somewhen in the Reagan administration (He was only supposed to take them back 5 minutes in time from when he started). We found them on Halloween night, 1987, in Detroit, where they had proceeded to capture 57 young trick or treaters, hang them by their toes from tall oak trees, and bash their heads in with basball bats (with nails in them) until "a sweet surprise" came tumbling out. When we captured them I asked the red robo-devils why they didn't just eat the candy that the masked tykes were carrying around instead of eating the tykes themselves. They just kept spinning their heads at the question and they repeated "Does not compute.... Beedee beedee beedee..." That was when Bob From the Future informed me that the robot demons were originally created years before his time in order to hunt down and "terminate with extreme toddler prejudice" all the children who participate in the illegal, underground pagan holiday of All Hallow's Eve. Apparently the United Solar System Governating Body of the Republique declared that only the one true religion of Mosesism (named for John Hinkley Moses, who apparently, in 2792 AD, founded a church on the basis of all men being equal and guilty in the eyes of his double-barrelled pulse shotgun) could ever even be hinted at in day to day life without punishment.
So after the robots were captured I borrowed Bob From the Future's time traveling device and went to 2753 AD and aborted Mr. John Moses in his 140th trimester, and then set myself up as the leader of the Rossman School of Religiousy Thought and Nudity, where "all titties are considered equal and suckable." Then I travelled back to 1987 and went trick or treating with my own young self in St. Louis. With my adult driving abilities we were able to hit over 2 thousand houses that night. I even let my younger self keep 2/3rds of all the candy, but when I finally returned to my own time I had somehow lost four inches of height, and gained 35 pounds of belly. Fuck the space-time continuum!
Note to self 244: 10/13/2004
Well, this past Tuesday was Angry Amy's birthday, and that meant "office lunch". Joy. And since Angry Amy's on a (fagtastic) vegan kick right now, that meant the restaurant that she chose for us to go to was the shittiest place in town, The Grit (I don't know why she couldn't just pick a normal restaurant that serves meat AND has a crappy vegan menu... Why do all vegans pull this kind of shit?). Things started off calm and controled, but soon Marv from HR couldn't contain his retarded political beliefs and blurted out, "My God, if we don't get Bush out of the White House next month I am going to fucking move to Canada." It was completely out of the blue, and despite the fact that we all agreed to not talk about religion, politics or Oprah (as all conversations on any of those topics have been known to create full-blown fistfights in my office). Well, before I could say anything, Angry Amy herself spat out, "You promise? Cause that's a good enough reason for me to vote for him." Then the gloves came off. Plates, forks, knives and bread was thrown, eyes were gouged, faces were raked with finger nails, perfume spray was turned into flame throwers, mace was let loose and midgets were tossed (ummm, I want to apologize to Frank in PR for that last one... It was just something I always wanted to do). It was a slaughter! The police and some ambulances were called, two entire buildings were burned down, and 4 wound up dead. Unfortunately Marv was one of them and now we'll never know if he really would have moved if W was re-elected. Thanks, Amy, for the shit food and a new eternal mystery. What a bitch.
Note to self 243: 10/06/2004
Ahhhhh, what a blast from the past. Aladdin finally came out on DVD yesterday. Aladdin will always hold a warm and juicy place in my heart. It was the first movie I took Just Kidding to back in high school... Errr, wait, or was Groundhog Day the first movie I took her to? Eh, I doubt even she'd remember. Life is a Highway, huh?
Anyway, Kiff, Carl and I went to the UGA vs. LSU game this past weekend. Too bad LSU didn't show up. The score was 45-16... But it wasn't even that close. I can't believe that they were ranked #3 pre-season. Faggy tigers. Carl beat six of them up after the game too.
I also watched an entire anime series this weekend. It was only 13 episodes, and I was bored. The thing about this show though is that it was so embarrassingly fucked up, I will never ever admit that I saw it. Never! My God, the nerve of the writers and director... Just frighteningly disturbing that somebody saw fit to pour money into its production. People I've already told I've seen it, but refuse to tell them what it was, have already spent dozens of guesses as to what show it was in order to see just why it was so bad. Some have guessed it, but I just said, "Nope," or "What's that show about? Sounds lame." Nobody will EVER get me to acknowlege that I watched it. My street cred would would be lower than Mondale's in mid November, 1984. You want to know just how bad this show is? Well, remember that I actually DID admit that I saw stuff like Onegai Twins, Chobits and Popotan.... And yet THIS one must remain a secret. Sweet zombie Jesus, if it ever got out.....
Finally, dream analysis time. Had a dream on Monday morning that I was back at my old (first) high school. I dreamt that I had started the semester late (due to an extended vacation), and was having a really shitty time trying to figure my schedule out. See, I remembered that the class schedules varied depending on what day of the week it was, but I couldn't remember which schedule it was that day (for some reason I knew it was a Wednesday). I went to two of my classes that I thought were first, and didn't get busted or yelled at for being there, but my third period gym class just seemed wrong. So I started wandering around the campus (Wow! Seriously, they like quadrupled the size of the place since I was there last), and found the enormous cafeteria where Mehve was eating lunch with everbody (Three things here should have tipped me off that this was a dream. Firstly, Mehve is older than I am and we were both supposed to be freshmen or sophmores in high school; Secondly, there were plasma TVs all over the place showing volcanoes, floods and earthquakes from all around the world.... Even if it was a private school, that's a lot of bread to throw around on entertainment for the pupils just in the cafeteria; and Thirdly, the place was co-ed now. If it was co-ed for my two years there I don't think I would have had 1/8th the shitty time that I initially did). I remember thinking "Why is Mehve here?... That's not right.... But somebody better know if today's schedule is either a 1, 2, 3, 4, or a 5 or I'm gonna go apeshit!" So many things were out of place, but it felt so damn real. Kooky. So, lots of randomness today. That's all though. Go look up some pr0n now or something.
Note to self 242: 09/29/2004
Jezus fucking Keeeeerist! That's hurricane number three that's run over Athens, GA, in the past 4 weeks!! Seriously, what the goddamn fuck?! This time we didn't even get a day off from work! What's the point?!
Anyway, despite my not wanting to go, the Wolfman talked me into checking out Anime Weekend Atlanta this past Saturday. It had been years since I had been to AWA, and I was immediately reminded why once I walked into the conference center's doors. L-A-M-E. Yes, I understand that the simple idea of an anime con is lame and embarrassing, but AWA continues to break new ground in "shittiness". No guests of honor beyond the English voice cast of Pokemon and no anime that they showed was new or fresh. Everything was either already released in the States or just about to be released (and out in digisubs for the past 2 years). And a good portion of what they showed (or at least what I checked out) was dubbed. What the fuck?! The Wolfman, who had never been to a real anime con before) was twitching in his chagrin, and he's a regular at DragonCon! Fuck, if something makes you feel like a geek just for walking through the lobby when you feel comfortable at goddamn DragonCon you just KNOW that they're doing something wrong.
The only good thing that I got out of AWA this year was the Live Action Asian Film Room. They played the ubertastic Azumi and the Thai film Ong Bak (with that crazy Thai Jackie Chan kicking ever so much Thai ass). We did run into Foxfur, but after that meeting and those "custard shots" I felt that I had to apologize to a lot of ladies I've known since high school. So here's a group apology: Ladies, I'm sorry. I honestly did not know it was that bad when I grabbed the back of your head like that.
Note to self 241: 09/22/2004
Jeezus Christ!!! That's like two hurricanes kicking Georgia's ass in two weeks! This time it was Ivan the Terrible, and at least he had the common courtesy to cause juuuuust enough damage to shut the University down, but not kill anyone I know. Thanks to Ivan I got a 3 1/2 day weekend! Hurray! Hurrah! Luckily enough I had just gotten in a bunch of my Hong Kong bootleg DVDs the morning that the weather started getting all tornado-y and shitty. I got all of Gunparade March done, half of Neo Ranga and half of Ninja Scroll the TV Budget-sized Adventures of Jubei. They were all okay, but Neo is kind of dragging. Fuck you, Neo Ranga!
I also got to see the epiglorious Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, and Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence of Mental Masturbation. Both either good or GREAT! Other than eating my weight in stuffed crust pizza, playing strip poker with Karen and Tammi With an "I" (with a rigged deck o' cards), and playing "ring and run" on Carl until he started shooting blindly at us in the dark, nothing really got accomplished this weekend. Oh, Robot Pedro did go on a killing spree this past Saturday and tried to blame it all on the hurricane, but the cops didn't buy it mainly because the hurricane was past us by Friday morning and the bodies were all chopped up with a meat cleaver.
Note to self 240: 09/15/2004
Two and a half years ago, after I inherited the house I'm living in from my good buddies the Bannisters, I unfortunately involuntarily took control of all the responsibilities that came with it... And as I just found out last night at the first neighborhood committee meeting that I ever went to, apparently the Bannisters were the prez and V.P. of the whole community before they die-... disappeared for Europe. And apparently apparently I inherited their gay little positions along with their possessions and I've been re-elected 2 more times without even my knowledge of my situation. The only reason I found out about my elected post and even went to the meeting was because I told Robot Pedro to go over to the school that it was being held it in order to kill or ship off a few more families so that the Megaplayboy, the Wolfman and Carl could inherit some posh, tax free estates of their own (well, at least I'VE never paid any taxes on jack shit).
So Robot Pedro went over there, and when he heard them all cackling about how they were going to stick me with the neighborhood deficit, send me to jail for a couple of life terms, and then burn my "house of sin and anti-Godliness" to the ground and pee-pee on the ashes, he quickly called me up to laugh at me. That's when I rushed over there, sealed all the doors and windows with duct tape (man that shit really works!) and then pumped a couple hundred gallons of Dr. Dave's very own mantaba-ebola-AIDs virus into the air conditioning to the heathens stranded within. The best part of Dr. D's specialty virus is that it disintegrates flesh and clothing material into a fine sugary substance, leaving no trace of murder, and it has only 1 calorie for every 10 teaspoons. I have GOT to market that stuff!... The sugary substance, not the virus.
Note to self 239: 09/07/2004
Hurricanes, college football, Labor Days and LAN parties. That's what the Rossman's extended weekend was like. I wasn't able to join the Wolfman at the DragonCon this year (something he has already stated deserves a massive vengeance attack sometime when I'm not expecting it... but to be honest, other than not getting to hang with the Wolf this weekend I'm not really disappointed I didn't get to go. The DC has gotten to be even lamer than most anime cons in the country. No really big stars, shitty shows and panels and the fact that you can only really see how lame shit like that is when you're watching it from afar scares me... After seeing the news broadcasts from the con floor I was really kind of embarrassed that I made such a big deal in going to it in the past. But I majorly digress), but that'll work its own way out. I did get a break from babysitting my nephews and niece this past Saturday (by bribing Robot Pedro to watch the tykes with energon cubes made of apple sauce and Stinky Pete's Red Vine Whiskey... They've gotta learn to fend for themselves against evil, Nazi, death robots sometime) in order to go over and bug Team Greenwood who was LANing all weekend long. After reminding them how cool I was/am, and after helping them combine their teamwork in order to all die at the same time in Rainbow Six 3, they gave me Psycho Weasel's PC in order to look up all the pr0n I could find, and then watch the newest Fullmetal Alchemist and Naruto eps over and over again (the "over and over" part refers to the pr0n, not the anime). At about 4AM they finally kicked me out cause I was just rocking too much, just not in public... I still have some modesty. There were some explosions and whatnot, but the fire department couldn't even pin those on me so I felt pretty safe. Today we're still getting hammered by Hurricane Frances who came all the way up from the Florida panhandle to fuck us Georgians up the ass. They only real big surprise I had this weekend was when I eventually came home on Sunday morning and found that my nephews had somehow sawed off Robot Pedro's arms and legs and turned him into a coffee table that kept repeating, "Beady beady beady... Please kill Robot Pedro... Beady beady beady..." *Sniff* They grow up so fast.
Note to self 238: 08/23/2004
I am infatuated with the Olympics. Have been since '84 when my older brother, my younger sister and I put on our own summer games to coincide with the L.A. Games that we watched every night on the TV with the whole family. In order to relive the nostolgia I had Bob From the Future send me back to the past to see my siblings and I when we were kids living the American dream of Golding, Silvering and Bronzing every event we partook in!
Well, I got back there and watched from cranky Mr. Kerchov's yard behind our old house as the sporting episodes unfurled. My brother won most events, with me placing second and Jaime placing third... But then I noticed something that turned my stomach; my brother was juicing up during the competition!!! He was sucking down Kool-Aid, Coca Cola and Mountain Dew like it was magical Narnian water pouring straight out of Aslan's ass! My sister and I would only drink a glass of water (as the rules allowed) once every half hour, and we were melting in the hot St. Louis summer sun (it got up to 101 degrees that day)... But big brother was cheating like a mo fo! After he lapped us in the 8th competition that day (the 10 lap around the house race), I ran from my hiding place in Mr. Kerchov's bushes, tackled the punk 11 year-old and began making him eat grass (big fistfuls of the yard). My younger self and my sister came around the side of the house, saw us, and then screamed. My younger self then declared, "He's out! I got gold! Ha ha ha!" and then continued running. Jaime was confused and didn't get back in the race until young-me had already cleared the other side of the house. In the end my big brother was disqualified and all the judges rulings for the day had to be recalculated. My brother's trainer (i.e. our mother) was then brought before the Ross Children's Olympic Judiciary Committee on charges of supplying illegal sugary substances to her athlete. My brother was even too ashamed to beat us up mercilessly that night (or maybe he didn't hurt us because my future self told him that he'd be watching him and would hunt his butt down if he ever laid another finger on his little brother ever again... Jaime was still okay to beat up though). Ahhhhh youth.
Note to self 237: 08/18/2004
The Wolfman and I decided to have a cinematic weekend this Saturday past, and so we partook of our favorite pastime down at the local movie theater: Movie-hopping! We first hit the Dollar Store and stocked up on Peanut M&Ms and mini Baby Ruths, and then we started off the day with something that we thought would be okay, if not a little bit cringe-worthy, the Alien Vs Predator flick. Deeeeeeeeep huuuuurting. The unbelievable stupidosity of the whole thing! I can't believe this piece of shit first of all took more than $2mil to make, and second of all actually took IN something like $50mil it's opening weekend!!! What sucks even more is that despite the fact (yes, it's a cold hard FACT) that this shitty film hurt my brain more than getting a massive brain-freeze migraine from a 32 ounce Slurpee while Jimmy Jammer rocked my skull with a sledge hammer, its box office gross pretty much assures pissed off geeks everywhere that Wes Anderson will be making a mockery of both the Alien and the Predator for many undeserved sequels to come. SHIT!!
After AVP, the Wolfman and I had something like an hour and a half to kill before the next movie that we wanted to see, so we snuck into the closest theater when some dorky looking 18 year-old manager kid started approaching us (I think he was mostly pissed because we kept making fun of and laughing at the losers who were coming out of Princess Diaries 2... and the Wolfman kicked that one 8 year-old in the ear and then stole his popcorn). The theater that we snuck into was (most unfortunately) playing the uber-shitacular Yu Gi Oh the Motion Picture... Holy sloth turds, Batman! That was the most boring 20 minutes of my day. Sure, the Wolfman and I only stood in the corridor that led into the theater seating on the far left of the room, but we could still see the screen while we talked to eachother. Basically, the plot seemed to be this: Some anime kid with yellow and maroon hair talked to some other anime dude with even pointier hair and they kept putting the other's "special cards" down with insults like, "Your Ultra Unicorn Monkey Raper Card is pathetic! It cannot match the sheer ferocity of my Purple-Headed Gumdrop Warrior Card! Mine's got Super Lightning Life-Draining Toe-Chewing Panty-Sniffing powers!" "Bah! You stupid little man! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ah aha hahas hfah....." Twenty minutes of just two mouths moving. And since it was probably made in Taiwan or North Korea, and it probably only cost TriStar a buck fifty to make it. Well, in order to liven up the show for the adults forced to sit through the shittiness that was Yu Gi Oh, I opened up a full bag of Peanut M&Ms, ran to the front of the theater and then HURLED the little chocolate pellets towards the crowd while I screamed "FREEEEEDOM!!!"! I'm sure that fucker who started moaning "Urk! Shit, I'm alergic to peanuts!!" was just trying to get out of the second half of the movie.
After THAT, we then headed over to the Spider-Man 2 theater and caught the first 20 minutes of that film. Holy crap do I love that movie! The opening alone is just so beautiful! I just love that black guy who yells, "Hey! Spider-man just stole that guy's pizza!" Awesome. Anyway, after the opening act we then snuck into the final movie of the day, M. Night Shyalaminaliangadongodns' The Village. Totally tittacular! Not as good as The Sixth Sense, but that's only because that film came out of nowhere. By now everybody's watching all of his movies just WAITING for the twist ending... And still nobody sees 'em coming! This is probably my second favorite M. Night movie now. The only problem with the viewing of said Village was some RETARDED couple who brought their 5 month old into the theater with them! This is worse than having a cell phone go off in the middle of a movie (which happened too btw)! Little shithead kids like that are constantly cooing and shit and ruining the movie for other people who paid good money to see the show on the big screen (well, the Wolfman and I didn't pay for it, but still, we're the LAST people you want to tick off in a dark room). About halfway through the film, the kid just wouldn't shut his pie hole, so the woman picked it up and started walking back and forth, up and down the stairs to the stadium seating. This pissed me off like a rhino in heat who just had his dong cut off by dick poachers! So, everytime she'd turn to walk down the stairs I'd bean the bitch in the back of the head with a Peanut M&M. This happened something like 4 times before she started shouting back, "STOP THAT! STOP HITTING ME!!" That, however, initiated audience responses of "Get that kid out of here!" and "I swear to SATAN that I will kill you and that kid if you don't leave this instant!!" (that last one was mostly from the Wolfman... Mostly). The rest of the movie was quiet and enjoyable though, and when it was done we went back to my place, got a pizza, and watched the first two discs of RahXephon... Which sucks cause now I have to finish it while I'm also in the middle of Paranoia Agent and Nadia. Screw you, Wolfman!!
Note to self 236: 08/11/2004
Robot Pedro went on a rampage again this past weekend, but this time I let him go without any repercussions. In fact he had my blessing. See, some asshat has been letting his or her dog go wee-wee and poo-poo all over my fecking yard for the past few weeks, killing all my shrubs (yes, the dog fucking AIMS for my shrubbery) and leaving landmines around my mailbox and tree. So, in order to set Robot Pedro off and let HIM hunt the damn mutt down I told him I wanted to take a picture of him in front of the house so that in case I died he'd be able to prove that he owned it (I didn't bother to tell him that since the likelihood of me dying at his hands was about 1 to 1 I had left tapes and letters to all my acquaintances telling them that Robot Pedro more than probably killed me if I ever disappeared for more than 4 days, and that I wanted him punished by the strictest letter of the law). So Robot Pedro stood right next to the mailbox and immediately started cursing and yelling stuff like, "N-n-n-n-noooooooooo!!! Inferior fecal matter on Robot Pedro's robotic f-f-f-f-f-feeeet! This is unacceptable! T-t-t-t-t-this cannot be!!! Did you leave your fecal matter on the front lawn, Rossman?!?!?!" To which I had to say, "No, Robot Pedro. In fact, that looks like doggy poop. You might want to hunt down and eviscerate every dog in the neighborhood to exact your vengeance and to ensure this never happens again.. Oh, and kill all the cats while you're at it too." He came home last night all bloody and covered in matted fur. I swear he's never been happier.
Note to self 235: 07/28/2004
A little back story to today's tale. The city that I live in has recently been cracking down on jaywalkers since a couple of (really stupidly retarded and drunk) moronic students have been hit by cars after (drunkenly and ferociously stupidly) walking their fat asses into oncoming traffic without looking to see what was coming. So anyway, I stopped by Big D's place of business yesterday to pick up some articles on dating and prostitution (2 different articles, just similar subjects), and then crossed the 4 lane street outside his office after making sure their weren't any cars coming for at least fifty yards either way. Well, the first car that was coming from the left just so happened to be a cop car, and as soon as I noticed him (halfway across the street) I began to book it, and so did he. I started crossing a green space in order to carve a short cut back to my office, but as I made it about 2/3rds of the way across I saw the same cop slam on his breaks in the parking lot directly in front of me (damn he must have sped around the block like a mo' fo'!!). So I did the only logical thing anybody would do in the same situation, I turned tail and RAN.
I headed for the closest building, which just so happened to be a hotel and mini convention center. I raced inside and made it past the front desk when I heard somebody shout "Hey! Hey, boy!" To which I stopped, slowly turned around and looked around for what surely was a police officer ordering me to stop resisting a ticket/arrest. What I saw instead were two guys in black slacks and maroon with black striped shirts on holding trash bags and toilet scrubbers. I asked them, "Did you just call me?" The older one (guy in his 60s) said, "Yeah, boy. Where you work?" I said, "Over in the building next to the library.. Why, did the cops ask you to ask me?" The younger guy started laughing as the old man said, "Cops? What kinda trouble you in?..." But before I could answer him Officer Ponch came into our field of vision outside the front glass doors. That's when the old guy grabbed my umbrella, threw it under one of the front lobby lounge chairs, shoved his dirty baseball cap on my head and pushed the trash bags in my arms. Then the younger guy dragged me to the closest trash can and started helping me empty it.
The chubby cop then came barging into the lobby, looked around started walking to the three men all dressed alike who were cleaning the dust bins out (Yeah, it took me a while but I realized the reason the old man originally shouted at me was because I looked like I was in one of the hotel's uniforms). Well, the cop was stopped by the old man who then asked if there was a problem, and the officer said that he witnessed me jay walking just outside of the hotel and that I had a large fine coming my way. But the old man stated matter of factly that John (supposedly me) has been on the job for the past 3 hours with no break, and that it would have been impossible for him to have "Jail walked across the street just now." It was awesome! After he told the cop that he didn't see nobody come into the lobby in the past few minutes (and their was nobody behind the counter to say any different), the cop got all pissy and left. I then gave my new buddies some high and low fives and then let them photocopy the prostitution article that I just got from Big D. That's the circle of life right there, brothers!
Note to self 234: 07/14/2004
They should put a warning on stuff like that. Carl, the MegaPlayboy and I went to see Anchorman this weekend and we laughed our butts off. No, that's not what I want a warning for. I want a warning that tells me "Do Not Try This At Home" or something after seeing something that incredibly awesome. I mean, who WOULD'T get all excited after seeing Ron Burgundy and Brick do their newscasting thing and want to go out into the world and do it themselves?! Brick is now my idol. He killed someone... Stabbed them in the heart. With a trident.
Anyway, so after coming out of the theater all jazzed up about the newscaster lifestyle, we all got to thinking how cool it would be to start our own newscrew club and get on TV to show off how utterly rugged and groovy we all were. I then remembered that the University had a newsroom of its own, thanks to an old girlfriend who majored in journalism and minored in looking hot on the tele. Even though it was late, the three of us broke into the place and got to work with our fancy production (it was surprisingly high tech and a pretty cool little studio, which worked out great for us). We made our news show for the day, but then left it for all the journalism students to broadcast the following evening (due to the fact that we're essentially morons who couldn't figure out how to actually transmit the thing to the public access cable channel). Well, Monday at 5PM, when the class got all set to do their show, they inadvertantly started sending out our show instead! We were so happy! The MPB swore that a Pulitzer was practically in our hands (Carl corrected him by saying, "You mean a 'Golden Globe.'")! Anyway, we sat and watched ourselves on TV as I read the news (mostly about where to download Cameron Diaz's pre-movie star nudie movie the quickest), Carl reported on sports (well, he gave a punch by punch reenactment of his fight with the studio security guard with me filling in for the guard) and the MPB just drank a whole bottle of Vodka in one gulp and then urinated into the camera lens. It was the best thing EVER to be shown on the old boob tube. Man, we rock!! As soon as the warrant for our breaking and entering expires we'll try to get The Rossman, and Company, Show Part II out. Get your Tivo ready!
Note to self 233: 07/07/2004
God bless America! It was a relatively quiet 4th of July this year, but thanks to a couple of travelers in the group (who made the trip to South Carolina for some much needed fireworks and other asplodin' materials) we were still able to have a loud and banging holiday of our own without having to brave the wild crowds in either downtown Atlanta, or the Mall of Georgia. Team Greenwood started things off by watching ID4 on TV in order to get all patriotic and shit, but then the sparklers, fire crackers, roman candles, bottle rockets and mortars were broken out and we made the neighbors hate us more than Greenwood's old neighbors loathed our previous hilarious, holiday shenanigans. We blew up a few dozen ground based artillery shells before taking things to the backyard (mostly due to what was more than likely several thousand dollars of smoke damage to the house across the street and one roof that caught on fire). Once in seclusion in Mehve's woodsy yard, we proceeded to shoot the shit out of one of the mighty oaks that the Baldwin said was hiding Osama bin Laden (he has video to prove it!).
If I don't sound too enthusiastic about writing about blowing crap up today, it's because my mongo smoke detector went off last night at about 12:30, causing me to throw myself 5 feet away from my bed, and crash into my dresser on which I shattered two ribs and elbowed the crap out of my mini stereo system. After all that there wasn't even a real damn fire, just low gay batteries. Fuck life-saving technologies.
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