Friday, June 24, 2005

Wasting Time

I attended a stag party a few weeks back in Changhua. It was great fun checking out the strippers although I was disappointed that the waitresses no longer dress like slutty nurses. Anyway the night turned black at some point and I woke up the next day with a banging hangover with my body aching in many different places. I am not sure what happened and haven’t been able to piece together much of what happened. With my body still aching I decided to visit my masseuse and get my body realigned. After and hour of excruciating pain my pain remains. This got me to thinking am I gay for going to a masseuse to cure my aches and pains? Or am I gay for having a masseuse? Well just when I needed questions answered I found this internet quiz that laid my mind to rest.
I'm Not a Faggot!

I'm Not a Faggot! Oh dear. I don’t seem to be a faggot at all. Luckily, George Hennard, Robert Mochrie, Timothy McVeigh, and George W Bush are all world famous non-homosexuals (probably) upon which I can model my sad little unfulfilling life. I grew up being taught serious and important things like sports and engine mechanics, with little time for the frivolity and campness which faggotry encourages. I am depressed and I often cut myself. I wet the bed when I was younger. Um. Yesterday.

What kind of Faggot are you?
Brought to you by Pushing Through

Another consequence of the stag party is that I woke up with a swollen right hand. I used to scrap now and again when I was younger. If memory serves, waking up with swollen knuckles was always the first sign that something went totally awry the night before. My car smashed up in front of the house was usually the second. Normally there was also lots of blood on my clothes, like when my fingernail got bitten off at a grad party in NE Calgary. That was a bloody mess, and took tons of clorox to clean. I am now old and fat and I doubt that I got into a scrap that night. I believe the swollen knuckles were the result of falling down on pavement and/or hitting inanimate objects who were looking at me funny. I am ashamed of my disgraceful behavior and I doubt that I became violent as that would go against the teachings of Gandhi, Martin Luther King and my lord Jesus Christ. Anyways my swollen knuckles got me to thinking of all those good times when I defended good against evil in the parking lots and bars Old Testament style. I started looking around and found that many kids are keeping with this bare knuckled tradition. Here is another good video showing some kid getting clocked. Oh the memories.

I may go to China next month and need to watch out for this old guy. He is fucking tough, watch him take down all these guys.

In Junior High we had boxing night in my basement. I organized the fights, kept the rankings in my notebook and cleaned the blood from the walls. I remember kicking the shit out of 6’7” Dave Van Hall to become the first ranked contender. I lost the title bout to Scott Jamison who hit me so many times in the kidneys that I pissed blood. Good Times! Sometimes I wish I was still in high school because the internet would have made making spending money so much easier. No dishwashing and paper routes for me, I could have sold these fights on the internet like these enterprising kids from Rogers, Arkansas. They filmed and marketed a DVD called Friday Night Fights now the cops want to talk with them. The video link is to the left of the story.

Finally, as a dog owner I found this video pretty funny. Apparently the crazy woman’s dog really likes biting crotches.

5 comments:

Sean Reilly said...

Well, I'm not as light in the loafers as I feared I may have been, but it took forever for that test to come back and I bit my fingertails down to the fuckin' cuticles. But the test came back clean so I guess I'm not biting any pillows.

The old man in the yellow shirt is awesome. That's how I want to fight when I grow up.

Karl said...

That test is broken. It says I am a 'Trendy City Faggot'. I am going to restore my non-faggot reputation by beating up some old fat guy. Some Canadian old fat guy.

BigEll said...

Oh, oh, I appear to have unleashed the wrath of Chaon. I am in big, big trouble.

Karl said...

The Wrath of Chaon is similar to the Wrath of Khan, minus the cool accent and the part where I get blown up at the end.

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