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| A RETURN TO GRACE. |  | Category: Social
Saturday, February 14th, 2004 @ 04:40 pm
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I'm going to try to explain a pretty difficult concept here. Especially difficult to young lads and ladies such as ourselves. People who smoke smokeables via crude paper tubes that we insert directly into our mouths. People who drink any manner of stuff directly out of the container we purchased it in. People who style our hair in various fashions as our whims command. People who wear sometimes garish, sometimes unkempt, sometimes even unclean clothing.
Did any of you know that there was a time when people had manners? It is true. I'm not sure entirely what manners are, but I think this gentleman does.
You might think that having manners involves relaxing by a pool. Would that the task were so simple and enjoyable. Perhaps another example would better illustrate the point.
 I hope you're starting to get the idea now. Having manners and being a gentleman require proper dress, proper hair styling, and one more thing.
And that thing is a moustache. Simple facial hair will not suffice. Gentlemen do not parade about with beards as if they were pirates or hippies, no. And they do not galavant with big muttonchop sideburns, as if they were off to fight in the Boer war or sing Elvis tunes. No, the moustache is the right look for a gentleman. It says to the world, "I am a man and I can (and do!) grow hair out of my face."
Now, I'm sure by this point you are probably wondering, "What does this have to do with me? For I am not concerned with gentlemanly things." And to that, I say, "That is exactly the problem. Nobody is." It is actually a wonder to me that I found these pictures at all. But that needs to change.
As I am sure you are all well aware, there are morally challenging times upon us. Even as I type, I can hear revelry and chaos in the streets. There are people tootling on tooters, blaring loud jungle music through public address systems, and driving unsightly trucks mere blocks from my house. This cannot be allowed.
 We must band together, and show the world what decent behavior looks like. What civilized dress can be. That it is possible to not have one's hair blowing about all willy-nilly. That a moustache is a symbol of disinction.
When will we do this? I propose this coming February the 22nd. It is the Lord's day, a day practically founded for the express purpose of setting good examples. It is a day that I know for a fact will have carousers strutting their stuff mere steps from my home. It is also close enough to my birthday to call it a birthday celebration.
So come, join me. Be here and ready to represent in the morning, for the main thoroughfare that leads to my abode will be rendered nigh unpassable by 11 or so ante-meridian. Put on your finest robe. Wear some comfortable slippers. Slick back your hair. And if you must smoke, do find some way to keep the combustibles from touching your primary orifice.
AND HAVE A FUCKING MOUSTACHE!!!!
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| A RETURN TO GRACE. | | Category: Social
Saturday, February 14th, 2004 @ 04:24 pm
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I'm going to try to explain a pretty difficult concept here. Especially difficult to young lads and ladies such as ourselves. People who smoke smokeables via crude paper tubes that we insert directly into our mouths. People who drink any manner of stuff directly out of the container we purchased it in. People who style our hair in various fashions as our whims command. People who wear sometimes garish, sometimes unkempt, sometimes even unclean clothing.
Did any of you know that there was a time when people had manners? It is true. I'm not sure entirely what manners are, but I think this gentleman does.
You might think that having manners involves relaxing by a pool. Would that the task were so simple and enjoyable. Perhaps another example would better illustrate the point.
I hope you're starting to get the idea now. Having manners and being a gentleman require proper dress, proper hair styling, and one more thing.
And that thing is a moustache. Simple facial hair will not suffice. Gentlemen do not parade about with beards as if they were pirates or hippies, no. And they do not galavant with big muttonchop sideburns, as if they were off to fight in the Boer war or sing Elvis tunes. No, the moustache is the right look for a gentleman. It says to the world, "I am a man and I can (and do!) grow hair out of my face."
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| A BIT LATE | | Category: Social
Friday, January 16th, 2004 @ 09:59 am
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Well, I see you got those snakes and sparklers. But where's the good stuff man?
--Good stuff? This is the good stuff, snakes and sparklers.
Are you nuts dude? You need stuff that'll explode. Go BOOM!
--Why is that good?
Well, huh, might as, might as well ask why is a tree good? Why is the sunset good? Why are boobs good? Man, firecrackers, ya stick 'em in mailboxes, you drop 'em in toilets, shove 'em up bullfrogs asses.
--I would never do that cause I'm gonna be a veteranarian.
Well there ya go! Some one shoves an M-80 up a bullfrogs butt, blows 'em to pieces. He comes back to you to fix it. You win twice brother, it's good biz!
So you're gonna tell me that you don't have no Black Cats, no Roman Candles or Screamin' Mimis?
--No.
Aw, come on man. You don't got no Lady Fingers, Buzz Bottles, Snicker Bombs, Church Burners, Finger Blasters, Gut Busters, Zip A Dee Do Dahs, or Crap Flappers?
--No, I don't
You're gonna stand there, owning a fireworks stand, and tell me you don't have no Whistlin' Bungholes, Spleen Splitters, Whisker Biskits, Honky Lighters, Husker Dos, Husker Don'ts, Cherry Bombs, Nipsey Dazers, with or without the Scooter Stick, or one single Whistlin Kitty Chaser?
--No.
Wha?!?
--cause snakes and sparklers are the only ones I like.
Well that might be your problem. It's not what you like, it's the consumer.
--Joe Dirt
And with that I'm reminded that I never gave a proper rundown of my New Years festivities. Not a whole lot happened, just a lot of drinking, drifting back and forth from Matt and Amy's party across the street, introducing our yankee friends to the unacceptably southern names for various fireworks, and yes, more drinking. That's about that.
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| ZANY ZOOCAPADES II | | Category: Social
Tuesday, January 6th, 2004 @ 10:41 am
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Well, another trip to the zoo was had, and many beers were consumed. One of the funny things I've noticed in my travels to the zoo is that no matter how many people are there, me and my posse usually end up being the only people in the entirety of the zoo that are drinking beer. Its not as if its contraband -- they sell it in quite a few spots along the way -- maybe it's that mostly tourists go there and not the New Orleans local brand of alcoholics. We also tend to be the only smokers in sight, but with times being as they are, that's not all that suprising.
I didn't take too many pictures of animals this time round, mainly because I took a good many last time and frankly, they're not interesting enough to cause me to amass a large library of pictures of them. Also, their company holiday party must have been the night before because the majority of them were either sleeping or not that interesting in seeming alive at all.
After the zoo, we went to one of Ian's favorite greasy spoons, Slim Goody's. Or was it Slim Goodies. I can't recall at the moment, and honestly I lack the motivation to spend the 4 seconds it would probably take me on google to find out. Anyway, I got a salad named, get this, The Trailer Trash. Isn't that rock? I thought so. But, as you will see in the following pictures, Ian got something that caused me to doubt my choice and want to covet his. I have no idea how its made, but something tells me you just make a plate of regular nachos then pull the chips out from underneath the fixin's real fast and immediately replace them with french fries before the goods have time to settle.
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Another Halloween is behind us, and so are our tales of drink and debauchery. We started calling people on Friday to see where their plans were pointing them towards, but it appeared it was pointing everybody to their own damn house. So, with the thought of having to rough the seas of people and fight the arduous perils of parking downtown alone, we decided to meet everyone halfway and invite everyone over to our house for a party. A party planned 1 hour before it started, but a party none the less. Thus began our All Hallow's Eve adventure.
