"I took 3 days to walk down 1 street."
My life at this point is a series of lulls liberally spread throughout exhausting adventures of.......
Eff that. I hate when I even try to be serious about the labors of middle-class boredom. Here's what is really on my mind. This guy that was my best friend when I was 13 just got busted for being part of this steroid/coke/heroin/pot/prescription drug ring. I shit you not. I used to be this guy's only friend in the world and now I hardly know him and he's going to jail for being Johnny Scarface of the suburbs. I thought about that today inbetween bouts with my parents' pets where I try to keep them from getting hair or other dander on my cashmere sweater (yeah, the one I should hang up or take to the dry cleaners).
This dude lived down the street from me when we were teenagers. I used to skip school in the 8th grade and go to his house and have band practice in his garage. He was a junior in high school and had gotten expelled for putting ex-lax in his algebra teacher's coffee. We started this band and as soon as he got his license he made a lot more friends (who were also my age and ostensibly stole my driver, I got a new one later). This guy used to come down and knock on my window when I was in high school and ask me what he should do with or say to these women he was always trying to score with. Whenever he took my advice he got lucky.
I could go further into the intricacies of this guy's pathetic life but it doesn't matter at all. He ended up being a completely different kind of loser than the kind of loser he was when I found him. Could this somehow be my fault? I won't go into it, but I have had it explained to me before by close friends that I am somehow the nurturer of this world of characters that whether I keep on them or not, always end up how I predict they will. My predictions are just when I go into wanna be stand-up comedian type rants about the lives of my friends and their lackies and their lackies' lackies.
My other buddy, for instance, is taking steps into a more hilarious sad state. This guy always had more potential than anybody else around us. He was street smart, outgoing, easy to get along with- and he always had the most beautiful girls ready to do the dumbest shit just to be around him. I used to tell him "______, if you don't at least try to do something useful with yourself you're going to end up in jail or even worse, you'll end up like everyone expects- you'll sell insurance and go bald."
I call him up to see what his status is and he says that his buddy was doing coke with this guy who dropped 20 grand in one night at strip clubs and other craziness. Through the course of the coke and booze ingestion, the guy mentions that he makes his money in Thailand. Long story short, my buddy and his buddy are going to Thailand for two months to sell stock options or something stupid. They are getting paid $500 a week and at the end of the two months they get to see what they would have made in commission and decide whether they want to stay or not.
He says: "....and dude, nobody ever leaves." I let him know about the drugs and the transvestites and the web cam sex slavery and how they'll end up in jail or jerking off in front of south east Asian business men and will never have a chance to leave.
I'm sure to have more to say as these events unfold. Maybe I'll be more coherent then.
Eff that. I hate when I even try to be serious about the labors of middle-class boredom. Here's what is really on my mind. This guy that was my best friend when I was 13 just got busted for being part of this steroid/coke/heroin/pot/prescription drug ring. I shit you not. I used to be this guy's only friend in the world and now I hardly know him and he's going to jail for being Johnny Scarface of the suburbs. I thought about that today inbetween bouts with my parents' pets where I try to keep them from getting hair or other dander on my cashmere sweater (yeah, the one I should hang up or take to the dry cleaners).
This dude lived down the street from me when we were teenagers. I used to skip school in the 8th grade and go to his house and have band practice in his garage. He was a junior in high school and had gotten expelled for putting ex-lax in his algebra teacher's coffee. We started this band and as soon as he got his license he made a lot more friends (who were also my age and ostensibly stole my driver, I got a new one later). This guy used to come down and knock on my window when I was in high school and ask me what he should do with or say to these women he was always trying to score with. Whenever he took my advice he got lucky.
I could go further into the intricacies of this guy's pathetic life but it doesn't matter at all. He ended up being a completely different kind of loser than the kind of loser he was when I found him. Could this somehow be my fault? I won't go into it, but I have had it explained to me before by close friends that I am somehow the nurturer of this world of characters that whether I keep on them or not, always end up how I predict they will. My predictions are just when I go into wanna be stand-up comedian type rants about the lives of my friends and their lackies and their lackies' lackies.
My other buddy, for instance, is taking steps into a more hilarious sad state. This guy always had more potential than anybody else around us. He was street smart, outgoing, easy to get along with- and he always had the most beautiful girls ready to do the dumbest shit just to be around him. I used to tell him "______, if you don't at least try to do something useful with yourself you're going to end up in jail or even worse, you'll end up like everyone expects- you'll sell insurance and go bald."
I call him up to see what his status is and he says that his buddy was doing coke with this guy who dropped 20 grand in one night at strip clubs and other craziness. Through the course of the coke and booze ingestion, the guy mentions that he makes his money in Thailand. Long story short, my buddy and his buddy are going to Thailand for two months to sell stock options or something stupid. They are getting paid $500 a week and at the end of the two months they get to see what they would have made in commission and decide whether they want to stay or not.
He says: "....and dude, nobody ever leaves." I let him know about the drugs and the transvestites and the web cam sex slavery and how they'll end up in jail or jerking off in front of south east Asian business men and will never have a chance to leave.
I'm sure to have more to say as these events unfold. Maybe I'll be more coherent then.
posted by Anonymous at 12:55 AM
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