Best Day Evah!

Sometimes you eat the bar, and sometimes, well, he eats you. Today I'm eating the bar, for today is the best day ever! When I awoke from an erotic dream that involved me and Scott Baio humping some couches on the set of Mork & Mindy, I realized that I did not have to report to Orson and, more importantly, I am not in any way related to Robin Williams or his knuckles, or rainbow suspenders. Advantage: me. Sidenote: What ever happened to wet dreams? Those used to be awesome and then grunge came around and then they were more out of style than quaaludes. Plus, how are you supposed to have a proper nocturnal emission when you know that the Melvins are probably playing Portland or a European festival or a European V.F.W. hall tonight (except in Europe they call them V.W. halls because they're the foreigners) There's an old sailor trick that man-types have used to 'last longer' in the sack. I know what you're thinking--the Baltimore chop--unfortunately, it takes skill to locate the ball correctly in that situation. It's called 'checking the runner,' which means: think about baseball when you're about to pull grape duty. That works O.K., assuming you aren't already charging the mound. I suggest that if you really want to impress her with your stamina, think about yourself at a Melvins show instead. And, if you want to really push the 3:00 minute mark, think about being in the Melvins' van.
Hey, got any ludes? What happened to the good drugs? Not that I do any, but what ever happened to all those great drugs? Remember Rush? No, not the Canadian, government-subsidized, progressive rock trio who wrote "Take Off", but the cleaning fluid stuff that you'd huff and turn bright red and black-out. God, that was an awesome fake drug. Say what you will about huffing cleaning fluid, at least it's not Oxford Blue Krylon out of a paper bag. I mean, if you're going to huff, go uptown. Skip Ace Hardware (they fucking card you now anyway) and bust some Damar varnish from Utrecht. Make sure you get the flat, not the high gloss--it can leave an embarassing lustre, trust me. The only card they'll ask you for is you ArtSmart card which might just get you a kick-ass discount or some art fag's digits cuz you're both down with Honoré Daumier or whatever. What about that designer drug, CAT (also known as 'Meth's Kitten') Remember that snowmobiler variation of that stuff that they made in the upper penninsula? It was so potent they had to cut it with cocaine to "take the edge off." What about Whip-its? I mean whipped cream charges. Holla! Anyway, back to my awesome day: I was at the gas station--a BP nonetheless (I feel so Benneton buying petrol from the Brits)--and I was fillin' 'er up and all of a sudden this lady steps out of her car and I was intantly transported to a ZZ Top video shoot. Not literally, dipshit. This lady gets out of her car and I'm certain I heard traffic screeching to a hault as well as a needle getting dragged across a record. She was probably 50, fake tits, spray tan, oversized sunglasses, fuck-me pumps, Botoxed, Asian and wearing a none-tighter Baby Phat dress. I have to give a shout out to my girl, Kimora. You my bitch. You could tell she was older because she had knee-back fat. Anyway, all of a sudden I start hearing catcalls and whistling. I turn around and there's three New Jersey construction workers from 1974 sitting on a girder making off-color hand gestures. Not really, but there were some construction workers who stopped what they were doing to check it out. And gas was only $3.07 a gallon! Whence I went in to pay, I once-overed my main lady just to, you know, what th fuck else are you gonna do when you're waiting in line at the gas station? Lighter humor just isn't what it used to be, so skip reading lighter comedy. She was borderline tranny but all that jibberjabber stopped once she spoke. How do you describe someone's voice when they sound like a nasally mix between Henry Kissinger, Chiaki Kuriyama, and Buckwild from Flavor of Love? I guess I just did. That was just the best! And when I got home, the new Pottery Barn catalogue had arrived! Score. The only problem I had with the day was noticing Walgreen's phantom architecture. Ever notice the fake atrium on the top of Walgreen's where the neon mortar and pestle is? It's covered in glass but serves no purpose. It doesn't let any light in. I think it should. But I'll save that for my shitty day tomorrow.