"You don't want those mullets parking 2,000 cars"

The above quote was uttered by Andy Smart in 2002, and your guess is as good as mine as to what it was about, but let's not miss the humor. First of all a group of people is referred to as "mullets", secondly, he seems to wish them to not be parking cars. My apologies to the mullets who read this, and to people that look like muppets.

Well, as I have been informed that last week's post lacked the necessary humor that I always bring to the counter (yes, I know the phrase is "bring to the table", but I am merely keeping it tasty...to the nth degree), and I'll admit, it was a tad unfunny, but after my editor (my left brain) and I went over it a few times, it was definitely just as absurd and slightly offensive as usual. But anywhat (yes, I know it's "anywho", but see tastiness reference above) I have decided to provide a special Monday post to discuss the humorous occurences of my real life this past weekend. They are funny enough that I might be able to weave a not so intricate cobweb and let everyone in on the general malaise of the situations. alright there was no malaise at all, except for one or two parts.

THURSDAY: Trevor had called me on Wednesday and asked me if I wanted to go out Thursday night. I, of course, responded in the affirmative. He had hoped only a handful of Vatican power brokers knew of Opus Dei's impending annulment (WRITER'S NOTE: the last sentence is a line from The DaVinci Code, by Dan Brown...I was hoping to make my musings just as exciting and popular as Dan Brown by inserting this line). Thursday, after a quick trip to the grocery store, I began cooking dinner (some exquisite salmon, cous-cous, and other stuff) and drinking 7 and 7's. Trevor arrived and began drinking low quality LTD and Cokes (the drink makes the man, or the man makes the drink or something, isn't that what they say?). Long story short, by the time Brian returned to the casa to pick us up for a trip to the bar (and upon arrival he said "Damnit you're smashed already, aren't you?"), we had become too intoxicated to even desire to leave. Sleep ended up occuring pretty early that night, and the ill effects of the previous evening were felt the next day

FRIDAY: After a lovely day at work, Trevor and I once again convened at the house, once again consuming the same spirits we had been drinking the previous day. Trevor invited over some girls and we were sitting around drinking. Brian showed up and abducted me....alright, alright, he asked me if I wanted to go to Wrigleyville and I later claimed to have been abducted (which would have sounded more convincing had I not left, and then returned to get my wallet while Brian peed). We made it down to Wrigleyville at which time many "summers of" people convened (many other people are having summers of themselves, not just the Summer of Tim is out there....but it is the main one, and sort of like the Central seat of the government). It was good times and I somehow ended up spending a decent amount of money there. All the while Trevor was calling me millions of times to find out where I was and evidently I was accused of stealing someones cell phone (well actually they thought Brian did it...racial motivation...because he's so damn white). Eventually 7 of us piled into a five person vehicle, and for a good part of the ride I was stationed in a non existent middle seat in the front....how does the biggest guy in the car end of there? seriously now. Then once we dropped some people off, I evidently, due to sheer exhaustion I am sure, "fell asleep" in the front seat of the car, even while Brian stopped to get food and do various other activities. Wowzah. Langdon nodded, feeling the first faint wists of possibility materializing (DB....plus I can't get sued for copyright infringement by this guy...he likes it).

SATURDAY: Trevor after another evening of fine couch sleeping for him, woke me up at nine AM, at which time we promptly sat around for about three hours. In the meantime the girl who had been accusing everyone of cell phone thievery returned to find it leaning against my computer monitor as she had left it. During our idle time, we decided we had finally come to a day to attempt the vaunted nine for nine. One baseball game=nine innings=nine beers=nine hot dogs....one of each per inning. So we purchased our beers, and hot dogs and set about on the task at hand. At first, due to not eating the whole day, everything was going quite smoothly....and I must say the beer, not so much of a problem. By about the fifth or sixth inning though, Trevor, Jay, and me were dreading the hot dog we had to consume and they were sitting on our plates until two outs in the bottom of the inning....I'll tell you this much none of us have futures as competitive eaters or anything like that. Actually writing about this makes me feel rather disgusted at the feat, but now we are part of an ultra-exclusive club containing the likes of Chris Farley, George Wendt, and other fat people like them who may have accidentally eaten this much at some point. The drinking then continued....7 and 7's, beer...everything. I personally did not eat for about the next 27 hours. So as we continued drinking into the evening, I went to Brian's briefly to have some beers with him and Paul. While there, a couple things happened: 1)Trevor called and asked if he could give away/eat some of my food. To which I told him no. Trevor happens to be the king of the not so secret society of mooches. He is good at it, I will give him that, but you really have to put your foot down sometimes. 2)Brian, Paul, and I were watching Ultimate Fighter, and on this show they always endorse a nutritional supplement called "Xyience" so as we are watching this (and I have been drinking for about seven hours) I inform them I am going to buy some Xyience. Only the next day do I realize I have purchased about $156 worth of these products. Brian's karma is going in the shitter for that one. So I eventually returned home. Without ever lifting his eyes, he stepped backward, out into the room's vast empty spaces (DB). At this time, around 10:30, Trevor and I were both growing very tired. At this point Brian and Paul were becoming very not tired and very ready to go to the bar. At this point I was then dragged by my leg out to my living room from my bed. It was then I discovered I also lacked the faculties to stand up. So we went to the bar, a la Jean Parmesan (arrested development reference) and stayed for about two hours. Due to some reasons for which I feel deep unrest, Brian and Paul had to step up their drinking efforts for the evening. I offer my condolences to all the friends and family members involved in that. Trevor and I finally concurred and said "Why the hell are we even here?" and left to a waiting cab out front. Upon arriving home, the cab driver requested $7...I had $6 and Trevor (which I don't even think I asked him) obviously had none. So as a sign of good faith, I gave the driver the six dollars and explained that I was leaving Trevor with him in the car as collateral. sweet move, is it not? I then went inside, got a dollar from Derek, and got a big handful of change from the good old piggybank. The driver was more than happy with this and agreed to let Trevor go. As T-Bag was falling asleep he confessed that he had eaten some of my deli ham "Three slices" he even added to show how little damage he had done.

SUNDAY:I find my ziploc bag of ham torn open with 1/4 pound remaining of the previously unblemished 1.08 pounds.

Moral of the weekend: Trevor is a glutton for meat and is not to be trusted around meat products in your home.