|
|
 |
« on: September 07, 2006, 10:13:26 PM » |
|
Yay, the first rant!
Rant, noun:
* harangue: a loud bombastic declamation expressed with strong emotion
* bombast: pompous or pretentious talk or writing
* talk in a noisy, excited, or declamatory manne
Yep, I should be damn good at this! I'm not going to bitch at the moment, but I've got a pretty decent recap of my recent weekend endeavors that I'd like to blab about.
----------------------
A few weeks ago, I went to a party that was hosted by my cousin, Jesse. I hadn't seen him in quite a while so it was a bit awkward at first... I was expecting, maybe 10 people or so--nothing major. I was barely expecting a party at all, to be honest-- especially since he was throwing the party at his parent's house while they were out of town.
Go figure, you move out to be on your own and free from your parents, but you still have parties at thier place. I'll never be able to figure out how he arranged such a grande scheme, but hats off to you, Jesse-- that's quite the trick you've pulled. Fuck you for having your own house, by the way. You can lick my dick on that one.
I was looking forward to hanging out with some people who I didn't know, in order to take my mind off of Jen, who has been the bane of my existance for quite some time now. I'd say "fucking women", but that wouldn't really be fair to the other women of the world who aren't retarded.
Upon arrival, I was completely flabberghasted by the amount of cars. This was a pretty big party for such a small house, 40 people easily. I walk in and see like 5 decent looking chics instantly and I'm like, "sweet, if I can find a chic that will take my mind off of Jen for 5 minutes, I'll be happy".
Just as that thought leaves my mind, some random-assed bastard who I've never seen in my life staggers up to me and looks at me the way you'd look at Jesus fucking Christ if you saw him at a party, "DUUUUUUUDDDEEE!!!" He exclaims as he moseys over to me in a half-drunken stupor.
He gives me the "man-tap" half hug and says, "YOU MUST BE WILL! I'VE HEARD SO MUCH ABOUT YOU!" I take a minute to try to figure out who the fuck this bastard is, and I have absolutely no clue, so I respond, puzzled, "Yeah... that's me... and who are you?". "DUUUUDEE! I KNOW JEN, JEN JEN JEN, JENNY MCJENNERSON JENNIFER JEN JEN JEN BLAH BLAH BLAH JEN! JEEEEENNNN MUTHAFUCKA!"...at that moment, I declared a Jihad on that man's family. Granted, he didn't seem like that bad of a guy, but I'll be god fucking damned if I didn't declare a holy war upon his lineage anyway. I can't go anywhere without meeting someone who that woman knows. Fucking hot chics, man. They know everyone.
Later in the night, I decided to hang out with Jesse's brother, my other cousin, Kurt. Kurt's cool as shit-- he was a premature-baby hardcore and has some handicaps with one of his legs because it grew wrong or something, so he has to wear a leg-brace to keep it straight. I like to think of it as an "accessory that makes him cool as shit".
So I head out to the porch, and Kurt is out there with some random "ghetto" men, who he earlier accused of stealing his Meatloaf. Man, I'll be amazed if that doesn't turn out to be the most random sentence that I've ever written. Behold, a fat man eating beans and riding a tricycle while tickling a polar bear! ... alas, I am amazed.
So, before I can really make sense out of why Kurt would be hanging out with such company, my tiny, little, itty bitty, innocent, semi-handicapped cousin whips out a big, fat, motherfucking bong and starts to hit it like it's fucking nothing. WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING HELL IS THIS WORLD COMING TO? I practically shit my pants. I mean, it's not like I've never seen some weed before, but holy crap... KURT?
I'm not sure if I'll ever get over that image--I've seen a woman fucking a horse, and it was far less disturbing than seeing Kurt smoke a bowl. After seeing that, everything else at the party seemed boring, so I left about 45 minutes later.
Kurt, I'm sure that you'll read this eventually, and I just want to tell you that you are by far the most baddass motherfucker to ever walk the face of the earth. Screw Samuel L. Jackson, he's got nothing on you.
If Samuel L. Jackson and my cousin Kurt ever got in a fight, Sam would be all like, "I've got to put a barrier between myself and the Kurt!", and then Kurt would just look at him all sly like, take a puff of his joint, and then Samuel L. Jackson would shit his pants in fear, hard. and LOUD. Really loud. So hard and loud that he would actually empy all of the shit out of his ass and then continue shitting pure air until he shit his bowells inside-out. Any glass in a 20 foot radius would be shattered from the audible shockwave.
Samuel L. would be standing there with his bowells hanging out of his ass hole-- which would now look kind of like one of those balloon animal balloons before the clown made it into anything-- and he'd be crying. Then Kurt would smirk and turn around slowly and walk down a dark, mysterious alley.
The end.
|
