Suck a cheetah's dick

Sometimes my life is a living Seinfeld episode. I am not sure which character I am, but sometimes things occur, and I just think...Seinfeld.

This past Friday such a moment occurred.

My boss, also named Tim, was getting married at 4 o'clock in the afternoon on Friday. I have known about this wedding for the last six months since Tim got engaged. He and I have a good working relationship (or so I thought) and have for the last two years that I have worked here. But, out of the nine people who work here, all but two of us were invited to the wedding. The other, not too altogether coincedentally, is my roommate and co-worker, Logan.

So the past couple of weeks at work everyone is talking about this wedding. Including my co-worker Matt (who has a self-importance issue) who continually get off the phone with a client and exclame, "______ is going to Tim's wedding too!!!".

So not only was I not invited but clients of our company were even invited. This was not too big of a deal to me. I had one client meeting at 10 'o clock Friday morning and then I got to go home because there was no one else at the office. But I still did return in the afternoon so that I could call friends who were at work and yell obscene things when I was at my office desk. It was fun.

Tim (on phone at empty office): "Hey Brian, you filthy little WHORE!"
Brian (also on phone but at non-empty office): "Hey Tim, geeze, would you keep it down? I'm at work...where are you anyways?"
Tim: "I'm at work too, you stupid MOTHERFUCKER!"

So, even though my feeling were a little hurt, I found the whole situation slightly amusing. That is, until today. Everyone at work has been talking about the wedding. AND THE MOST EGREGIOUS PART OF THE WHOLE SITUATION WAS WHEN I FOUND OUT THAT EVEN THE MAILMAN WAS INVITED. Wow. I already have aspirations to leave this job and this just makes the notion even more realistic. And good luck getting good work out of me for the next few months.

Some other things I hate:

Saran Wrap: Who the fuck thought of this stupid garbage? It doesn't cling to anything and it is overall just really dumb. I applaud those who can use this effectively while also questioning whether they practice some sort of black magic or have conspired with Beazlebub to have the ability to properly use this product. Sometimes, if all plastic containers with lids are gone, I will simply eat whatever I was going to store rather than try and use that goofy ass saran wrap shit.

Delirium Nocturnum: This is some crazy Belgian beer that I bought because it had a cool name and was in a cool bottle with a cool elephant on it. It tasted, in my rough estimation, like sewer water. And it costs like $6. And it made me angry and drunk after one bottle I believe. So actually it wasn't all that bad. Except for the possibly fatal taste.

I feel that earlier there were many things whirring around in my mind which I may have/not hated. Maybe I will write about them some other time.

I never have given credit to Martin Rollins, who encouraged me to start writing down stuff. I don't think this is at all what he expected and I hope he never sees this.

Don't throw your fish in my backyard, my backyard's full

So this weekend I went to the first wedding of any of my close friends of my age. It, needless to say, was an awesome time and I think the bride and groom looked really happy (as far as I can recall..but they were for sure happy at the wedding) as did all of us drunk people. I want to live life with an open bar sort of philosophy. Tip if you want, drink for long periods of time and have fun. I have no clue how this will be applied to a life philosophy, but I will try. There are too many fun moments to recall in this entry and plus I do not want to be directed by people as to what they think my blog will be about each week (as Christi said to me at the reception, "I bet I know what your entry will be about this week....the wedding). No Christi, you silly bobblehead doll, you are wrong.

Monday Night Football Food Review (as written by someone talking to a baby) (imagine a singsong voice)

Who has pizza? Who has pizza? Weeeeeee! Weeeeee! Is the pizza yummers? Is the pizza yummers? Guacamole (tickles belly)! Guacamole (tickles belly)! (Funny face)

And finally, Tim's Top Ten Ways to Avoid Contracting the Avian Flu:

As you may or may not be aware, there is a pending threat of some sort of avian flu coming and killing everyone. Not to worry, here are some helpful tips I have devised.

1) Stop making out with birds, you sick fucks.
2) Do not simulate any sexual acts with any poultry prior to cooking it (anymore).
3) Avoid things and activities that weaken the immune system, like hanging out in nursing homes and kryptonite.
4) Really, it is not even that cute when you are nuzzling up to that goose.
5) Lather, rinse and REPEAT.
6) Instead of raising poultry, how about you poultry farmers realize the world has INDUSTRIALIZED and you can get real work now?
7) Stop using uncooked sinewy pieces of bird as dental floss. I already told you how much it creeped me out before.
8) Drink a bottle of Robitussin each morning upon waking and a bottle of NyQuill before you fall back asleep. These should be within about five minutes of each other.
9) If you hang out with anyone you call "The Birdman", "Bird" or even Larry Bird, stop. They probably already have the avian flu (Larry Bird got it from Magic Johnson)
10) Immediately cease all attempts to try and recreate the movie "Fly Away Home". After all, let's face it, you're no Jeff Daniels.

"I could bring home a gay retarded black man and my parents would just say, 'Proctor, you're gay and like retarded black people? No big deal.'"

I know, I know...I missed a post last week. It was probably only due to my new feud with more famous blogger, Jason Mulgrew (google him and then read it...it is some funny stuff). I began e-mailing him asking him to be my blog mentor and we have had several correspondences. Lately, as he has refused to be my mentor, but instead says he merely like to read my blog, I have begun threatening him.

Threat #1
I told him if I ever saw him I would battle rap him. Then I demonstrated my skills by rhyming Mulgrew with Taming of the Shrew. I think this quite nearly frightened him into mentoring me.

Threat #2
When I saw that early morning noise annoyed him, and armed with the knowledge that he lives in New York I told him that I have family in Brooklyn who I will tell to come and make early morning noise. He was far less amused with this. Who knows what Threat #3 will be.

MNF (Monday Night Football) Food Review (Every week I go to my friend Christi's where a gaggle of people gather to watch football. Well actually only the first half of the game and then we watch Ultimate Fighting. Or sometimes Laguna Beach depending on how effeminate we feel)

The food selection this week was a delight to the palette and tickled all five senses sensuously and crisply. The "Sloppy Joe's" had a refined taste that reminded me of Minsk, with a bold cedar undertone and delightful hint of crushed boysenberries. As the sloppiness of the joe's fell onto my pantaloons and juices seeped into my skin (dying it like a fine leather) I smelled the arrogant yet elegant aroma of this enchanting cuisine. The platters on which the food was placed were fine Old World- paper plate craftsmanship. The rods of pretzel were an absolutely perfect side dish.

So this past weekend I went home. It was a fun time. The quote by which this post was named was actually an utterance from famed humorist Eric Proctor, the funniest man alive. He said it when some girl was talking to him about how she liked a boy of mixed races and her family did not approve. Proctor, after saying the aforementioned quote, then began continually saying, "Barbara Boxer 2008!". Crazy man.