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This Entry Is Brought To You By The Letter B

2004-01-30 - 12:21 a.m.

Secret Word: Florida

Listening To: Interpol, The Flaming Lips, The Jayhawks, Talking Heads

Quote: "I. Thought. You. Were. My. Honey. But. Then. You. Got. Married." - Shannon & Zach

B: As in Birthdays, Beirut, Bowling, Bachelor Parties, Beards & Bitches! (But definitely not Butterfly Effects!)

For Reals.


You're all my bitches.

"Ya'll", I mean. "Ya'll my bitches!"

But on a less inflammatory note, I could totally be the Seafood Manager at Shaw's. I mean, I don't have any experience, and I'm really no fan of any seafood outside of clams, shrimp & scallops. Plus, once you get that fishy smell on your hands . . . I mean, it takes cauldrons of lemon juice to get that stank off. Man I hated portioning the haddock at Patrick's {Where Good Food, Good People, Good Entertainment & Freakishly Long Advertising Copy Come Together!} Well, actually, deveining the shrimp was pretty suck ass too. But when the haddock was all frozen together and shit? Oh man, that super mega sucked. (Mega!) They were SHARP. It was sharp corrugated fucking haddock. And let me tell you right here and now, and I'm gonna be a straight shooter with ya'll now, you do NOT want to get fishy juice in an open paper cut (that you got from a frayed paprus plate) and then be splashin' that there lemon juice in said cut. Lawdy, will that burn like the dickens! And not the kinda pain when ya'll rippin' a week-old band-aid from the hairiest part of your calf. But the kinda pain like when you get tricked for like the 17th time into biting really hard on your pinky fingernails and then interlocking them and pulling really hard in opposite directions. Except even worse. It's the pain of that 18th time when you try it again by yourself, away from the prying eyes of accusing friends and the damning gaze of untrustworthy stuffed animals, after you get home from school and a thunderstorm is rolling in off the plains and you can feel that warm wind on your face while the increasing spits of raindrops that navigate their way through your screen windows land on the porch's already faded and curling linoleum. Yeah - like that. I don't know, maybe I need to rethink this whole "dirty tricks campaign" to get myself into the cushy job of Shaw's Seafood Manager. I'm such a faded star nowadays. Ever since I won the County Clerk slot in the 8th Grade Student Council elections (a position, if I may add, that I ran for uncontested, not to mention that it was wholly created by me and for me - FZBZ, a forerunner to FUBU if you will) it's been downhill ever since. Oh sure, I've been VP a few times, President, hell, I've even been in charge of reading back the Minutes (with a capital "M") from the last meeting, but hell, who am I kidding? I've spent a good portion of that time being 2nd to Asshole, and baby, I don't got 1 clear card for your ass, let alone 2. That said, I always liked pulling way more than my fair share (which would be 1) of those tickets when you're waiting in line at the bakery/deli/fish . . . ery. I'd pocket an extra 3 or 4. You never know when you're gonna need them. You always end up trashing that seemingly innocuous shit like "Rusty Boot", "Shiny Rock" and "Spring Roll" early in the game in favor of cool sounding/looking shit like, "Venomous Vorpal Blade", "Omnipotence Ointment", and "Super Happy Daffodil Chain Mail!" only to find out at the end that you can only beat the big fucking boss by throwing a god damned spring roll in his mouth when he's fucking flashing red and hopping up and down or some shit. I don't know. Whatever. Some other fucker can be the Seafood Manager. But I'll always say I knew me when. I . . . sniff . . . knew me when. Damn it! I promised myself that I wouldn't cry! I promised! Anyway . . . time to talk about bowling.

~Bowlingo El Cosmico~

So yeah, since Kate apparently had come down with 24 hour Ebola or some shit, we finally all had to go Cosmic Bowling. Seeing as I told her I'd only go if it was her dying wish, and with her then conveniently getting Ebola, don't for a second think I wasn't suspicious. But my suspicion dried up just around the time that her face started eating itself. That Ebola. It truly is the quiet killer. Granted, bowling in HazMat outfits was a bitch for the rest of us, but we wanted Kate's last few hours on Earth to be truly special. If by "truly special" you mean "Andrea hustling everyone about her supposed lack of bowling skillz, Ben fighting with some Mormons, Al-Y sermonizing about the Good Book that is Bluegrass music, Hannah crazy-gluing her fingers inside the bowling bowl . . . FOUR TIMES, and Zach constantly making Kate openly weep due to him continually bringing up 'how many Watermelon Jubilee Rolls from Friendly's she'd miss out on once she was dead!'", then yes, it was truly truly special. Yeah. The teams were Kate, Zach, and Hannah (Team Squid) VS. Andrea, Al-Y, and Ben (Team Stupid . . . or Team Idiot . . . I don't know, they changed it a lot). Kate stayed pretty consistent (when she wasn't cheating) and scored probably the most spares and strikes of all of us (including a TRIPLE STRIKE one time. It was like Delta Force shit or something.) Al-Y was the most consistently inconsistent raising the bar with strike upon spare and then lowering it again with three or four gutter balls in a row. Poor Hannah didn't even know that there was a bar - let alone something that needed raising and lowering. I've been told, since I don't recall seeing anything of the sort myself, that Ben was mixing it up with kidney punches and nerve pinches to the family of Mormons that were playing next to us. That Ben - always fighting the good fight. God love him. Or Jesus. Or some Latter Day Saints - I don't fucking know. Meanwhile, Minnesota "Andrea" Fats was busy hustling school children in the arcade out of their Yu-Gi-Oh cards that she could bowl at least a 45, and would then go on to bowl a 295.

And did I mention that at 9 o'clock everything went . . . COSMIC!! Well, if I didn't, it did.

~Pats (not of the "Fat Chase" variety) Win!~

Yeah, so Ben and I went over to Aaron's to watch the AFC championship game and were joined by an Amy-less Nick. (Amy, who I should mention, seeing as I haven't before, who is pregnant with their spawn). With Kelsey there, it was truly 4 Men & A Baby. Except there was less running around with the naked baby and copious amounts of baby powder in comical attempts to changer her diaper. Plus, we knew who the father was. But it was still fun. Especially do to the fact that the Pats won. Where's your precious God now Peyton and Donovan?! Muahhahahahah! Man, all this maniacal mockery - I'm starting to sound like Justin. Yeah. Speaking of Justin, he's been growing his "beard" (and I intend that term to be taken about as loosely as Paris Hilton at 3 AM passed out on some strip of sand and broken glass in Ibiza) out ever since the Pats won and won't shave "it" until they win the SuperBowl. In an attempt to disguise my laziness in not getting my haircut, I'm claiming to be doing the same thing with my "getting-dangerously-close-to-Johnny-Damon-esque-length" hair. But it's not true. As I JUST STATED (if you were fucking paying attention), it's just due to sheer laziness.

~Party of 14 . . . IN YOUR PANTS!~

Honestly? I have no idea what that title means. I mean, I get the Party of 14 bit, but the rest? No clue. I think the earwigs need to fix my alignment, I seem to keep slowly listing to the bat shit insane side of the road. You know that part of the road? Next to the public community garden? Where all the Laners come and plant their fucking pumpkin seeds and magic beans? Yeah . . . so anyway, it was Ben's birthday last Sunday. The big 26. (For those of you keeping track, it was also Christine Joyal's birthday yesterday, the 28th - also the anniversary of the Challenger disaster - as well as a warning to all that there's only 7 more months of shopping days left.) We all went out to Margarita's Saturday night to welcome Ben into that scary world that is Twenty-Six. A world the likes Tim Curtis hasn't seen in 5 years. (Get it? I'm making a joke that Tim is so much older than everyone else? Get it? I only have the balls to make such a hurtful and psychologically damaging joke with Tim being all the way across the country with no chance of him poisoning my water supply . . . for now.) Yeah, so who were these 14 peeps? Glad you asked. Ben, Aaron & Michelle, Nick & Amy, Shannnon & Matt, Rich & (current girlfriend) Julie, Brooke & Kyle, Roy, KP, and myself. Like all social ventures, we made sure to keep Justin off the guest list. Jeff & Amy were partying it down in Bethel, ME that night so they couldn't join us. Truly a risky venture on their part, for as Jeff put it, "Are we even legally allowed back in Bethel, ME yet?" After waiting roughly 4 hours for them to seat us, the ever-so-kindly hostess staff split us into a Party of 4 and a Party of 10 next to each other and we ate lots of Mexican Food and drank lots of drink. Roy won "fruitiest drink" by far, but I won't make fun, as it was darn tasty. Let it also be said that Roy would like to publicly (and pubicly) distance herself from this "Want to get some free movie tickets?!" bonanza. She said a mail-bot got a hold of her name from the original forward she sent and has been using it ever since then. Roy, Roy, Roy, when are you gonna learn? Never trust a mail-bot. After Margarita's, everyone, save Aaron & Michelle and Nick & Amy, regrouped at Chef Chen Kenichi HQ for some Beirut and Cahds while Birthday Boy Walden kept his steely gaze on anyone who came within 3 feet of the thermostat. Ben and I started the night by winning Beirut. Over the next 4 hours it was the last time we'd win. Ever again. As in, "we didn't win another game of Beirut." As in we were beaten by Shannon & KP! You know how that feels? It cuts.

Like a knife.

Shannon and I also must have repeated the phrase, "I thought you were my honey, but then you got married", oh I don't know, about a THOUSAND times. To truly understand it you have to say it in a slow, almost retarded robot kind of way. Why were we saying it? Damn, it's so convoluted I'm not even gonna try to explain it. Sometime around here Shannon broke out the Fun Dip, or Lik-M-Aid, as it were, and let me tell you - drunk kids and Fun Dip do not a mixture make. Don't even make me get into the story about Keith convincing me to snort Fun Dip while we sat on the steps outside Larry's Market. Well . . . actually, I guess that's the whole story. Anyway, I think there was some sort of titanic tussle between KP and me for the cherry dip . . . dust, or powder, or whatever the fuck it's called. And we ended up getting a majority of it on the floor. And then I ate the candy stick out of spite. And then I got a tummy ache. And then I found out the hard way the difference between "coloring books" and "grown-up books." Shit! Bitch washed this dawg's mouth out with same nasty ass Ivory soap. That Mrs. Trickey didn't babysit no fools. We learned damn quick you keep yo jive elbows off the table when yous eating. Oh - and taking the school's canoe? You better believe that's a paddlin'! Anyway, it was a lot of fun, and it was fun seeing everyone. Although, I have to be honest, it still seems weird to not have Jimbo at these kind of things. I wonder what ever happened to him anyway? All I know is that he packed up his clothes and his fear of giant boats and moved out West. I hope he's ok and that his cystic fibrosis isn't flaring up under the harsh sun of whatever planet he ended up on.

~The Fatmat Agenda~

Didja hear? Petrarch is gettin' hitched! Yeah, I figured you'd have heard something about that. Anyway, Ben and I finally got our plane tickets. We're leaving out of Boston, stopping in Charlotte, and then on to West Palm Beach. Good lord are we going to have us some fun. We're going down early for the "still-in-the-planning-stages-bachelor-party" and hopefully we'll be joined by some other former Sachems including Jeff, Chad, Rich, Jimbo, TC, and McLaughlin. Sorry Braden! Maybe next time!

Anyway, I am so looking forward to it. I want to get married too! Mostly so I can have the big party and invite all my friends (no - don't be silly, I wouldn't include Justin) and eat lots of Veal Zachariah, but of course I'd have to have Chicken Zachariah for people like Al-Y who are Vegan and don't eat Veal - maybe we could even scrape us up some Hot House Corn for her too! Wouldn't that be nice? I think so. Yeah. So expect to hear more on the Fatmat hi-jinx as we get closer to the date.

In conclusion, (as they say in "the biz"), I leave you with: GO PATS!!!!!

Also: That root beer isn't sitting very well.

It's been real,

Ronald Von Kleinenschtein

ps - the last poll, which was up there for far too many fortnights, broke down a little something like this. To the question, "What are you most looking forward to in 2004?" a hopefully prescient 1st place went to "Voting Bush out of office (November)" with 10 votes and 33% of the vote. A 2-way tie for 2nd place went to "NewsRadio DVDs (Spring)" and "Red Sox, take 2 (April)" with 4 votes each and 13% of the vote. And it was another 2-way tie for 3rd place with "David Byrne's New Tour (Spring)" and "Outdoor Beirut Tournaments at Silver Street BBBQ's (Summer)" both getting 3 votes each and 10% of the vote. So now quit yer bitchin' about the old poll and go vote in the new one!

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