How To Tell Your Former Boss That He Sucks

My pal Jeffreybaby quit his job last week at a physical therapy clinic because his boss (Steve) was a complete asshole. The man would overbook patients and then leave them sitting alone for 30 minute stretches while he worked on other clients. One time Jeff had the audacity to remind the man that he had a patient waiting. Steve pulled poor lil Jeffreybaby into his office and berated him for “trying to tell him how to do his job”. Since Jeffreybaby is such a nice guy, he couldn’t be completely honest with his pig of a boss when he told him he was quitting. I urged him to send the guy an e-mail, and he did just that…

#1 Hit on Mike Smith’s Computer (when charles and crab are around).

It’s Fun To Do Bad Things

Degenerate Road Trip: Final Reflection

Tommy dropped me off in Fairfax VA yesterday afternoon, putting an official end to our degenerate cross-country road trip. Getting out of the Silver Chariot, I fought to hold back the tears welling in my eyes – caused by the realization that our journey had finally reached its conclusion. I think Tommy felt the same way. He opened up the car window while driving off, gave me the finger and screamed a string of obscenities. All was right in the world.

Although we weren’t able to post much during our adventure, there were many memorable occurrences on the road. 100 to be specific! Check em:

1. Drinking sparks on the beach in San Clemente.
2. Confessing my sins to Tommy each morning in CA.
3. Hearing Tommy read bible passages aloud after confession.
4. Watching Jerry Springer while cowering under the covers in a dark hotel room in CA.
5. Sneaking into a Blues Festival at the age of 24.
6. Getting caught sneaking into a Blues Festival at the age of 24.
7. Watching Tommy accidentally urinate himself on the beach in San Clemente. While sober.
8. Cruising around San Clemente while listening to the Brian Jonestown Massacre.
9. Attending an Angels versus Dodgers game without having any clue of what was going on.
10. Dinner with the Howell family, including the infamous Grumpy Grandpa (who didn’t turn out so grumpy after all).
11. Talking to Heather for 2 hours in a bar, and not remembering any of the conversation the next day. “So Heather, do you know insert name here?” “Um Chuck, we talked about that last night” “Whoops, sorry again!”.
12. “Go on, give it a jiggle!” (in a British accent). Our official trip motto.
13. Gambling redemption in Vegas.
14. Driving through the desert.
15. Watching Tommy heckle tourists on the Hoover Dam by yelling “HOLY SHIT! LOOK AT THAT BRIDGE!”.
16. Looking out for donkeys with horns in the desert.
17. Hiking to a cliff and jumping into a freezing cold pool of water in Flagstaff. Oh wait, that sucked!
18. Challenging Tommy to a who-can-go-the-longest-without-showering contest.
19. Lasting one week in the who-can-go-the-longest-without-showering contest.
20. Watching Tommy go the entire three weeks without showering.
21. Going into Mike Smith’s place of employment and attempting to interact with his coworkers while we were the opposite of sober.
22. Doing the same thing two nights later.
23. Getting free food everywhere we went in Flagstaff.
24. Refusing to follow Mike Smith underneath a bridge below a road in Flagstaff to drink cans of Sparks before entering a bar. What the fuck does this look like Mike? Billy Goat’s Gruff?!
25. Getting free t-shirts from Paul at Pay-N-Take. Yeah, you know, the guy who could talk Hitler out of the Holocaust. “Hey, hey, Adolf…Come on bud, the Jews aren’t so bad. What size shirt are you pal? You want a drink?”
26. Getting in some great altitude training in Flagstaff.
27. Sike.
28. Living with an Irish Olympic Qualifier and his miniature donkey for a whole week.
29. Living with an American Olympic-Qualifier-hopeful and his intergalactic battle station for a whole week.
30. Living with a Man-ape for a whole week.
31. Asking the Irish Olympic Qualifier if “Duck Tales” aired in Ireland when he was a child. It did!
32. Hiding under the covers with Tommy and Mike Smith (obviously in the same bed), to protect us from the 6 feet of snow that fell in Flagstaff. Anytime someone would get up, we’d scream “GET BACK HERE, WHAT’RE YOU THINKING YOU SUICIDAL MANIAC!!!”.
33. Playing ‘Punk Rock Girl” by the Dead Milkmen over and over again on Mike Smith’s computer.
34. Attending a Hippie party in Flagstaff, AZ. Complete with a drum circle and women sporting armpit hair.
35. Hearing Tommy scream “HOLY FUCK!” at the top of his lungs upon seeing a group of hippies playing hackey sack in downtown Flagstaff. Can the town’s residents do anything more to fulfill the place’s stereotype? I don’t think so.
36. Seeing a coffee mug in a candy store in Flagstaff that read “We can send a man to the moon, but we can’t e-mail chocolate?!” It was quite possibly the most moronic attempt at humor since Gallagher’s watermelon-smashing antics.
37. Dancing like we dropped E at 80’s night at the Green Room.
38. Getting into a scoundrelling war with a dude named ‘Cletus’ at 80’s night. I accidentally bumped into some dumb redneck named Cletus and he started to pick a fight with me. I apologized and he suggested that I buy him a beer to make up for it. The minute I bought the man a beer I realized that it was all a con to get a free drink, so I demanded one back in return. After another potential near brawl with the goat-man, he finally caved and returned the favor. Gully, remember Cletus’s trick for future reference.
39. Having two lesbians ask if we were gay, based solely on dance moves.
40. Tommy ‘accidentally’ walking off with a girl’s license at 80’s night.
41. Chillin at Pay-N-Take with my dog, Anthony.
42. Drinking at a bar alone in Flagstaff, assuming people would meet up with me. When no one did, I soon found myself alone and stumbling down the streets at 3am. I called Mike Smith and he got out of bed to pick me up. Great friend. I then pushed the boundaries of our friendship by falling over furniture in his house and ‘accidentally’ kicking a wall – waking up the Olympians preparing for the most challenging competition in the history of sports. The next day they asked if we had a party, because “it sounded like you guys each brought girls home”. Nah dogs, just me.
43. Waking up the morning after 80’s night with a perfect lipstick stain imprint on my Sonic Youth t-shirt, and having absolutely no clue where it came from.
44. Trying to make out with Jenny whenever I saw her, but being rejected each and every time. Damn Jenny, that was cold-bloooded!.
45. Asking for a pink lemonade at a wine bar – a drink which contains alcohol – and being served a non-alcoholic, yellow lemonade. The waitress put it down and said “uh, yeah, the bartender made this lemonade. Sorry, it’s not a pink lemonade”. Puzzled, I asked “So, uh, does this one have alcohol?” to which she responded “No. Is that OK?”. I agreed to take the lemonade, putting aside the fact that this woman knowingly brought me the wrong drink, since I thought it was awesome for a bar to hire mentally handicapped employees.
46. Calling Mocku and making him explain the “Double Stack” to Jenny over the phone.
47. Watching Tommy wear a hat that had fur and wolf ears to dinner and a bar. He officially become “Wolf-Donk” for the rest of the trip.
48. Saying the word ‘donkey’ about 300-400 times over the course of the journey.
49. Saying the term ‘motherfucking rape party’ about 300-400 times over the course of the journey.
50. Passing the orange vomit bucket (aka- Mike Smith’s garbage can) back and forth with Tommy.
51. Taking credit for cleaning the vomit bucket when Mike Smith asked me who cleaned it the next day. Gotem.
52. Asking Mike Smith to summarize his experience hosting us, which he could only respond with, “Everyday…vomit…vomit”.
53. Threatening to kick the shit out of two college kids who were taping “scenes from Flagstaff’s nightlife” with a video camera. They got footage of us being denied entry into a bar and who knows what other mumbo-jumbo that came out of our mouths.
54. Crowding around the photo-hunt video game at a bar for what seemed like hours. Mike Smith looked around at one point and said “People are staring at us and think we’re insane” to which Tommy responded, “I don’t care, I’ll stay here all fucking NIGHT!”.
55. Wondering how the Pizza Hut in Pecos, Texas could have ever passed a sanitation inspection.
56. Arriving in Austin, to be greeted 3.cm, Salad, shots of Jim Bean and a case of Lone Star beer.
57. Watching Saladadd to the garbage in his front yard by throwing beer cans, shattering the Jim Bean bottle, and launching eggs onto the lawn.
58. Eating at a Mexican restaurant in Austin where no one spoke a word of English. I got a huge carnitas burrito, chips, and a can of Tecate. Price – 5 bucks and change.
59. Being denied entry – along with Salad- into a bar on 6th street.
60. Performing a homo-erotic, shirtless dance routine with Salad on stage in a bar. The next day, 3.cm told me that two people actually left the establishment after viewing the dance equivalent of “Faces of Death”.
61. Watching a random girl throw rocks at Salad’s ass on a bar patio. He requested that she do this to him. The bouncers were puzzled.
62. Playing nude male photo-hunt with Tommy, Salad, and 3.cm.
63. Mocking a girl for wearing a “What would GG Allin do?” t-shirt.
64. After the girl wearing the “What would GG Allin do?” t-shirt told us that she’s originally from Philly, I immediately called Mocku to test her Philly knowledge. Because, ya know, it’s really uncommon for someone from one major city to move to another major city in their 20’s.
65. Getting the number of the girl wearing the “What would GG Allin do” t-shirt, but not calling her!GOMEZ!!!
66. Turning gay bars into straight bars, and straight bars into gay bars in Austin. (Courtesy of Mike)
67. Eating at the hippest diner in the world. Possibly the universe.
68. Cruising around Austin in a Jeep Wrangler with the top off.
69. Hiking to Sea Donkey Cove.
70. Swimming in Sea Donkey Cove.
71. Sitting on the sacred Sea Donkey Rock, located in Sea Donkey Cove.
72. Sleeping on the floor, cuddled up next to a dog with fleas.
73. Helping Mike name the dog with fleas Lord Anubis. Pronounced An-you-bis.
74. Watching Mike and Salad repeatedly threaten Lord Anubis’s life.
75. Eating genuine Texas BBQ.
76. Getting pulled over in Texas for speeding and only given a warning. The dumb cop made me step out of the car to ask me if my license, which clearly states “New York State Driver License”, was an identification card or a driver license. I had no clue what the hell he was talking about, so merely pointed to the words “DRIVER LICENSE” on the card. It was at that point that he realized a ticket would be out of line, considering the fact that his mental retardation was no longer a secret.
77. Watching Tommy lose a chugging contest to a woman. In his defense, this woman resembled Jabba the Hut, but with full-sleeve tattoos. The female bartender at this place in Austin challenged Tommy to the feat of drinking strength, but then went into a back room and uncaged the beast to take him on in the challenge. I don’t think God, Herself, could have defeated this creature in a chugging contest. Tommy never stood a chance.
78. Planning on stopping in Nashville, TN to get a good night of sleep for our final leg of the trip, but mysteriously winding up in a casino in Tunica, Mississippi.
79. Hearing Tommy scream “Security!” Rick-James-Dave-Chappelle-style whenever our blackjack dealer would actually yell ‘Security!’ in response to his card table antics.
80. Watching Tommy walk around to roulette tables like Jojo the Idiot Circus Boy, throwing away his winnings on black or red.
81. Singing “Our God is an Awesome God” on the ride to Raleigh.
82. Getting yelled at by Tommy for touching the radio in the car.
83. Getting yelled at by Tommy for touching the glove compartment in the car.
84. Getting yelled at by Tommy for touching anything in the car.
85. Getting yelled at by Tommy for playing Plastic Little on my Ipod.
86. Getting yelled at by Tommy for falling asleep while he was driving.
87. Getting yelled at by Tommy for asking to drive.
88. Getting yelled at by Tommy for not driving enough.
89. Getting yelled at by Tommy for driving too fast.
90. Getting yelled at by Tommy for driving too slow.
91. Getting yelled at by Tommy for asking to stop for food.
92. Getting yelled at by Tommy for asking to stop to pee.
93. Not getting yelled at by Tommy whenever he was asleep in the car.
94. Detoxifying our bodies and souls with the Howell family in Raleigh, NC.
95. Participating in a Mike Tyson’s Punch Out competition. Damn that Soda Popinski!!!!
96. Watching Tommy lose to Soda Popinkski in the third round after talking so much shit.
97. Attending a little fiesta at the Howell residence, clearly in my honor.
98. Convincing Tommy’s 6-year-old nephew that I can magically transform myself into a miniature donkey, but only in Flagstaff, AZ.
99. Competing in a trivial pursuit game with the brilliant, yet ruthless Howell family. My team lost though…sorry Doctor Dan and Robbie
100. Getting home and never having to see Tommy again.

There you have it folks. I’d like to personally thank the following entities for their contribution to my experience:

Salad and Mike – you guys know how to make a couple of donkeys happy. Jim bean, beer, cheap food, fleabag dogs, good music, Sea Donkey Cove, slampigs, and much, much more.

Jenny – free food and good company. Maybe next time you’ll accept my advances to make out!

Scottbrundage.com – just knowing that you would still be around on the internet when we arrived home got us through those long drives.

Mike Smith – you’re a true Gibraltar Girl and contrary to popular belief, we love you more than you can ever imagine.

Smirnoff Tripled Distilled Vodka – we also love you more than you can ever imagine.

Doctor Dan and Miss Jan – the trip would have never happened without you guys. I wish my parents would disown me so that you guys can adopt me? (Hi Mom!)

Tommy, Crab, Donkey – at dinner in San Clemente, Miss Jan asked me “I know Tommy is funny, but why do you consider him a friend?!”. The road trip helped to explain the paradox. For instance…At the casino in Tunica, I had lost all my alloted gambling funds in blackjack and couldn’t possibly take out more cash to keep playing. Tommy was also down, but still had a decent stack. He looked over and saw that I was finished, split up his stack of chips, and gave me a pile even bigger than the one he left for himself. Tommy, you’re a true friend who’s there for his buddies when they’re down. That, or a degenerate gambler who doesn’t want to sit at a table alone. Either way, thanks for the great time and I hope I don’t see you anytime within the next 2 months.

Chuckblog is back!!!!11111GOMEZ!!!!!!!!!

Degenerate Road Trip: Part 2

Tommy and I have been in Flagstaff, AZ for the past few days, crashing with our good pal and fellow Gibraltar Girl, Mike Smith. The experience has been full of highs and lows thus far, but overall the degenerate road trip has been a smashing success. Here are some of the highlights:

Attending a major league baseball competition. Tommy’s family – led by Miss Jan and Doctor Dan – graciously bought us tickets to a baseball competition between the Los Angeles Angels and Dodgers. I clearly have no clue what’s going on in the world of sports, causing me to choose my favorite team of the game based according to a very objective criterion: team name. Since I’m a devout Catholic (ZOMG!), rooting for the Angels is much more appropriate than favoring the Dodgers, which elicits a mental connotation of draft-dodging. I was compelled to stand behind the Angels on both a spiritual and patriotic level. More importantly, however, Angel’s player Vladimir Guerrero looks like rapper, Lil John.

I apologize that these two images cannot accurately compare the physical attributes of the two men, but I would have done the world a great disservice by not posting a photo of Lil John snowboarding. It might possibly be the only documented proof of any black man – let alone a rapper – on a snowboard.

Sneaking into the Doheny Blues Festival in Dana Point, CA. Although neither of us have any interest in blues music, we felt obligated to sneak into the $75-per-ticket festival like idiotic high school kids. The festival was held on a beach by our hotel, set off from the public by a high chain link fences. We devised the ultimate break-in strategy: a running jump onto the seat of a bike chained to a fence post, allowing us to vault ourselves over the rest of the fence and onto the other side. We accomplished the feat without any problems, but were spotted by a heavily-tattooed/pierced security guard. Upon reaching us, the Ork-like man seemed perplexed by our status as two adults. It’s only logical for him to assume that we were simply overgrown children. Thankfully, his confusion led to a mere warning: “I mean, come on guys, do you have to be so obvious?! Don’t do it again tomorrow.” We had no intention of doing that again tomorrow. In fact, we hadn’t really planned on doing it the first time around.

Coming back from the dead in Vegas. Vegas loves natural born losers. Tommy and I are natural born losers. If my logic is correct, then these two givens lead to the conclusion that Vegas loves us. The last time we visited the dreaded city together was last summer, when we willingly gave our money away all night long then bunkered down in a hotel room during the day with the blinds shut and lights out, huddling together like frightened animals. We blame it all on the Cursed Pyramid, more commonly known as the Luxor hotel and casino.

A majority of people don’t believe in black magic, but trust me, evil is at hand in the Cursed Pyramid.

Thankfully, this time around we stayed far, far away from the unholy place and opted for a room at Binion’s hotel/casino in Old Vegas. Unfortunately, the reach of the Cursed Pyramid extends throughout the entire city of Vegas. At the Golden Nugget, we quickly lost all of our money in blackjack and roulette. When we left the casino, I knew we were close to hitting rock bottom when Tommy turned to me and stated, “If I ever become a low-life wandering the streets of Vegas, please come save me.”

After wallowing in our sorrow and having a few drinks at Hogs and Heifers (don’t ever go here, BTW), Tommy had some kind of strange epiphany. He declared that we should make one final attempt at redeeming ourselves in blackjack, which was all the motivation I needed to give it another go. We sat down at a table occupied by some friendly middle-aged women and a rad dealer, and our ultimate redemption ensued. We won back our previous losses and actually knew when to walk away this time around. Leaving Las Vegas is kinda like scrambled porn; after seemingly endless minutes of static, you get that one moment of clarity that makes everything right in the world. This was our money shot.

Heckling tourists at the Hoover Dam. On our journey from Vegas to Flagstaff we passed over the Hoover Dam, which shows the view of a bridge being built across the canyon. Tourists fascinated with the  construction stood all along the Dam taking pictures of the work-in-progress. With a cigarette drooping out of his mouth, Tommy rolled down his window and kept screaming “HOLY SHIT!! LOOK AT THAT BRIDGE!!!!”, blatantly mocking people for standing around in 105 degree heat while taking snapshots of a glorified construction site.

Cliff jumping in Arizona. After arriving in Flagstaff our host and good friend Mike Smith coerced us into hiking through the woods to jump off rock cliffs into a freezing cold pool of water. Since I filled my life quota for nature outings during my time with the US version of The Hitler Youth*, I was unenthusiastic for the expedition. It turned out to be surprisingly fun. Contrary to what I learned in Deliverance, I guess that hiking into the middle of the woods on an unmarked trail doesn’t always lead to rape and murder.

*The Boy Scouts of America

Attending an 80’s night at some bar in Flagstaff, with the following great acts occurring that night:

• We approached the dance floor as if the fate of the world depended on the intensity/stupidity of our moves. People either loved or hated us, with most falling into the latter category. Two lesbians applauded us for being openly gay in public. They were shocked when we told them that we were actually straight, but still commended us on our moves.
• Tommy accidentally stole a 21 year old girl’s license. Oops!
• Upon requesting Eddie Murphy’s “Party all the Time”, the DJ gave me a look which said “Are you fucking joking me?! Of course I have Eddie Murphy’s ‘Party all the Time’!”. The song came on about 2 seconds later.
• I woke up the following morning with a perfect red lipstick imprint on the shoulder of my Sonic Youth t-shirt. I have absolutely no clue how it got there.

Along the way, Chuckblog has pleaded with people to visit www.scottbrundage.com. Even the girls with hairy underarms we met in Flagstaff.

Degenerate Road Trip: Part 1

Yesterday was the official start of my degenerate road trip with Crab. I’m already dry-heaving, which is probably not the best sign, although I’m still optimistic about what’s to come. We’re in San Clemente, CA, where the sun is shining bright in what seems like the Promised Land. Although most people might be out on the beach, we’ve holed ourselves up in a hotel room with the blinds closed, much more interested in watching Jerry Springer, Saved By The Bell, and other such televised masterpieces while nursing our hangovers.

We’ve made a pact to maintain a sense of moral integrity during the trip, so we kick off each morning with a confessional and Bible reading. The confessional consists of Tom instructing me to “Tell me your sins my son”, to which I admit all the bad things that I’ve done in the recent past. After my laundry list of offenses is verbalized and Tom states “your sins are forgiven”, he picks up the Bible, turns to a random page, and points to a passage in a similarly meaningless fashion. He reads the passage and we draw from its wisdom.

This morning his finger landed on a section from the book of Proverbs, Chapter 24, Verses 3-4, which reads:

Through wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established; By knowledge the rooms are filled with all precious and pleasant riches.

Indeed, this trip is a journey to attain wisdom and understanding. And if I’ve learned anything so far on our voyage, it’s that I want all the rooms in my house to be filled with riches. Like, a shit load of riches. Furthermore, my riches must be only of the precious and pleasant variety. So, we’re off to a good start with the Lord.

Life on the road can be pretty taxing, and the last thing we need is a deficiency of essential nutrients like vitamin C. In an effort to raise awareness concerning the ongoing scurvey epidimic sweeping the nation, we’ve made it our personal cause to consume at least one vodka and cranberry juice each morning after confessional and Bible reading. This particular cause enables us combat the horrifying effects of scurvey while simultaneously allowing us to conquer another illness that inflicts millions of Americans: sobriety.

Then we turn on the television and watch shirtless rednecks compete in a spelling bee to win the heart of a grotesque, scantilly clad woman on the Jerry Springer Show.

Yesterday, we did actually make it to the beach where we lasted at least 5 minutes before we wandered across the street to purchase several cans of Sparks. Then, we settled down on the sand with our malted energy drinks and discussed a wide range of important topics:

• Interplanetary Alien/Human Relations
• Similarities Between Women’s Bathing Suits and Women’s Underwear
• The Undeniable Importance of Both Women’s Bathing Suits and Women’s Underwear 
• How Come That Asshole Gets to Drive on the Beach?
• Should I Go Jump Off the Pier?

Although neither of us did jump off the pier, I think it’s safe to assume that Scottbrundage.com would. After leaving the beach, we continued consuming alcohol for the next 13 hours at various establishments, namely a bar called Goody’s. As in, Goody-Goody Gumdrops. Soon enough, we mysteriously teleported to the bar next door without realizing it, where we met up with Heather. I met Heather on myspace via my pal Gerry No Game, and she was super cool – simply for tolerating our rambling jibberish. Thanks Heather! I’d say it was a successful start to the trip.

Absence Explained, Math Girl RIP, Road Trip

Chuckblog has been out of commission for the past week, and I feel that an explanation is in order. Last week was my final week of grad school and work, which meant that I was devoting every waking second to concluding both activities on a high note. Since finishing, life has been one non-stop party in celebration of my freedom. I feel that this is a great opportunity to step away from the computer and gather material for future Chuckblog posts. Don’t think I don’t care, because I love you all more than I love my own children.

My relationship with Math Girl also expired last week. We both knew it was only a temporary fling, as I’ve been planning on moving out to San Francisco for quite some time. I recently got accepted into law school out there, so I will be officially moving away from the East Coast in late July/early August. Math Girl – thanks for the great couple of months. I’ll miss you. Amuirin – I’m now single and ready to take our relationship to the next level.

Finally, in 2 hours I am flying out to the LA area to meet fellow Chuckblog writer, Crab (Cursedpyramid). From there, we will be driving cross country over an approximate 2-3 week span. We will try to post from the road, as I’m sure the trip will be full of stupidity. Also, if anyone can hook us up with a place to crash somewhere between Austin and DC, swing me an email. We’re more entertaining than circus freaks.

Love, thanks

Chuck

If all te raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops

so tonight wasa social experiment. i was pretty much ready to got to bed, then decided to walk to the nearest bar ant get as drunk as possible. this bar was weird. there wwere some crazy goth bands playing the whole time. a lead singer was wearing eye makeup and shit. i dunno, just wasn’t my scene. fairfax VA really sucks. someone threw up all over the dudes bathroom, so we all had to use thewomen’s. it was weird for a trilosecond, but then it made perfect sense. so what else?

Kate, Kate and the Amazing Adventures of Babygirl Purpleshirt

This past weekend, Charles and I learned a few interesting rules regarding social networking. First off, and this one is most surprising, not everyone drinks vodka all day, every day.

Who knew?

Secondly, as a general rule, females don’t find it “funny” to be given obnoxious nicknames and slapped on the ass.

Another shocker!

But, first allow me to set the scene. Charles and I were in Raleigh, NC, my hometown, to attend the Raleigh Relays, an annual track meet held on the campus of North Carolina State University. Charles had driven down from DC with his “girlfriend”, Ellie. Ellie, in addition to being a wonderful person who doesn’t deserve Charles’ antics, is also a recent graduate of NCSU. As such, she has many friends that still reside in the greater Raleigh area.

I met Charles and Ellie at the track on Friday afternoon. Shortly thereafter, a very nice friend of Ellie’s named Kate joined us at the meet. Kate has blonde hair and stands around 5′6. On the surface this seems like completely irrelevant information. But wait! There’ll be more about Kate. And Kate. And the fantastic Babygirl Purpleshirt! More chuckblog!

Charles and I left the meet shortly after the the conclusion of the 4×1500 so that we might meet my parents for dinner and enjoy some Italian cuisine at Amedeos. Amedeos serves plenty of alcohol, but apparently, not enough for me and Charles. Which is why, after eating, we headed straight for Player’s Retreat, the seediest, and best bar in all of Raleigh.

It’s the kind of place where you can vomit in the ladies room(Charles’ fault), stalk other patrons(“we’re following you to whatever bar you’re headed to!”), and drink out of a flask(Lil’ Gibraltar).

Not that we would know.

Anyway, many drinks and many hours later I woke up in our hotel room and was introduced to “kate”. I was confused on many levels. This new “kate” was a brunette and looked to be at least 5′10. Thoughts raced through my mind:

• Did “kate” dye her hair?
• How did “kate” grow 4 inches since I saw her last?
• Why are “kate” and Ellie not wearing any pants?
• Will www.scottbrunadge.com make love to me?

Even after it was explained to me that this “kate” was another friend of Ellie’s that happened to be named Kate, in my semi-drunken state, I was unable to wrap my mind around the existence of two Kates in one city. So I did what any rational person would do: I changed her name. First it was Katie. Then Kate 2. And finally, having exhausted all other possible alternatives, and because she chose to wear a purple shirt out that night, she became Babygirl Purpleshirt. I wish I could tell you that Babygirl Purpleshirt’s night got better.

It did not.

Actually, my night didn’t get any better either. Because, after Charles pounced on Babygirl Purpleshirt and slapped her semi-nude ass, we suddenly found ourselves standing in the hallway at 3 am discussing alternate lodging plans. Some people can be so cranky when it comes to letting strangers spank their unclothed buttocks!

We found our way back to my parent’s place and crashed for the night.

We woke up late and headed back to the track to watch the 1500s. And before we knew it, we were back at Player’s Retreat. It was like we had been casted as extras in Groundhog Day. Only, our film would have been called Drunkhog Day and would have been a drama instead of a comedy. But alas, Ellie and Babygirl Purpleshirt arrived at Player’s to pick us up and take us to a party hosted by one of their friends.

On the way to the party, Charles and I discovered that the lyrics of practically any hip-hop song can be changed to “BABY-GIRL PURPLE-SHIRT!, BABY-GIRL PURPLE-SHIRT!” The actual Babygirl Purpleshirt, who was driving the car, was not impressed with our attempt at improvisation. And once we arrived at the party, we also discovered that the hip twenty-somethings in Raleigh, NC aren’t ready for our revolutionary take on songwriting. In fact, I believe one partygoer’s review was something like, “Shut the fuck up.” Not to be discouraged, we decided to move on to other material. Namely, an impromptu cover of Eddie Murphy and Rick James’ “My Girl Wants to Party All the Time.” Inexplicably, it also recieved an icy reception.

Soon after, we left the party. And by left, I mean, we were told to, “get the fuck out of here.”

You know, whatever. Stop singing. Please leave. Get the fuck out of my house!

On the way to the car, before Charles pushed me down a steep, grassy, wet embankment that ruined my pants forever, we ruminated on whether or not we would ever see Babygirl Purpleshirt again.

And I said, “Of course we will. In fact, we can see her again right now, if you want. All we need is a pint of Aristocrat and an unsuspecting female wearing purple clothing. BABY-GIRL PURPLE-SHIRT!”

Chuckblog would like to apologize to Ellie, Kate, Kate 2, Katie, Babygirl Purpleshirt, my parents, Ellie’s parents, Cynthia, Sunni, Milton, and the city of Raleigh.

Top Ten Search Engine Inquiries Recieved By 2:36 AM on Sunday, March 30th 2008 (the year of our lord)

1. vampire maroon 5.
When the worst band in the world meets Blade 2, we get vampire maroon 5

2. DC boys Adams sweatshirt
Somebody’s looking for an all-boy’s sweatshop in Adams Morgan. holy fuck, who’s looking for an all-gay cheap labor manufacturer in our nation’s capital?

3. + blog “low life” permanent sleep.
Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

4. how does my girlfriend turn me into a va
How does anyone’s girlfriend turn them into the state of virginia?….or a vagina?

5. my black lips are too big
We have no clue how to respond to this inquiry without offending an entire race.

6. public chuck o’ game
When the Parker Brothers meet crack.

7. reasons why jesus was a black
Take your pick; the giant penis, the afro, the multi-million dollar contract. Motherfucker could turn water into wine. nuff said.

8. hasselhoff friend
Admiting to alcoholism can be a difficult endeavor. David Hasselhof makes the transition to sobriety much easier.

9. vampire penguin
Was somebody looking for vampires or penguins? or both all at once? in any case, this is wacky as shit.

10. totally baked potato 18th St.
This could be song lyrics for Bob Dylan. Or Wierd Al Yankovich. Either way, we’re still confused and scared.