Monday, June 4, 2007
I'm like whatever.
Hey. What's up. I'm like, "whatever." This has been the stupidest weekend in the history of weekends. It was so stupid that I ended up sleeping through most of today, and woke up around 4 pm to eat a ham sandwich and take a nap. And I think I'll continue to take this course of action, because the world is one big fat stink hole.
So you remember what happened Friday, right? I asked Trudy (bank teller) to go out on a date with that dillweed Damien (trickster jerk), so he would return to me my rightful place as the second baseman for our softball team. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, skip down three blog posts. Or go away forever. I don't care.) Anyway, I eventually figured out this was a really dumb and ineffectual plan, and decided to ride my bike down to the pizza shop, crash into their table and whisk Trudy away on my handlebars. The result?
THINGS DIDN'T GO SO WELL.
I went to every stupid pizza place in town, and they weren't anywhere! Plus I kept calling Trudy on her cell, but she wouldn't pick up. Frankly, I was scared poopless. (PMF—"pardon my French.") Finally she calls at noon on Saturday, and was all like, "Hi! What's up?"
And I was all like, "You scaring me poopless. PMF. That's what's up."
Turns out she's absolutely fine—and even worse? She said her date with Damien was "DREAMY." And not only that, she said Damien was actually "a really sweet guy" once you got to know him, and that she not only kissed him on the mouth, but she also stuck her tongue inside a little bit! EWWWWWWWW!!!!
I slammed down the phone and decided I wouldn't call her back until I could get the taste of bile out of my throat. At least I got second base back, right? Well, at Sunday's softball game…
THINGS DIDN'T GO SO WELL.
Damien was all like, "Jesus! Dude! That date with Trudy was super hot! She could be the one, dude!" And I was all like, "WHATEVER, dude! You're the catcher now, so why don't you start catching?" But right when I went to second, the coach walked up and was all like, "Jesus… what are you doing?"
And I was like, "Damien said I could have second base back."
And he was all like, "Well, Damien doesn't coach this team, I DO. Get back behind home plate!"
I kind of don't remember much after that. I think I went into some kind of comatose state that people go into when their entire world starts spinning really fast and falls apart and comes crashing down like the Red Sea on top of their heads. The next thing I knew Karen (lamb) was licking my face at 4 pm today, which is her code for "eat a ham sandwich." I did, and felt a little better. That is until I cried myself to sleep. I just woke up again a minute ago to evacuate my bowels, and thought I'd write this. I'm going back to bed now. I've got some more crying to do. Maybe I should have faith things will get better. But since it won't, I can't.