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Friday, December 23, 2005I'll go ahead and keep the previous post intact, unedited, as a reminder of why blogging and Alabama Slammers do not mix. You might have a good idea or funny punch line, but it takes a lefthand turn somewhere and instead of deleting a few sentences you make it worse. It's like my idol Dan Fielding once said, "most men have a filter between their brain and their mouth. Me, I have no filter." Years from now I'll probably be up for a huge promotion and my boss will Google me just to make sure I didn't George O'Leary my resume. Immediately he'll find tales of me gleefully gobbling Greek god knob, and that will be that. Stupid Internets. posted by Nate on 11:54 PM link Thursday, December 22, 2005It's always a good day when tasty food is involved. One of the guys at the office has me addicted to a mid-day repast of Mancino's bread sticks and alfredo dipping sauce, and today he suggested I try blending the alfredo with the Garlic Butter sauce. "It tastes so amazingly good, the side effects include multiple heart attacks or cancer or erectile disfunction or explosive diarrhea," he said. Only he didn't say that, because I just made that up to advance the story. (I was an English major, so I can do stuff like that.) Sean did say that it was likely high in fat and cholesterol and totally unhealthy, but my version is much more funny. Hence why I wrote it that way. Anyway, I ordered my meal with much apprehension. My job consists of getting yelled at by people who are trying to make this the Most Perfect Christmas Ever; I stand in their way, trying to Ruin Christmas with intrusive things like "out of stock items" and "company policies" and "UPS stomping the everliving shit out of Little Billy's present." My lunchtime is the three-to-five minutes each day when I can take a break from it all, an indulgence like those mid-1980s Calgon commercials, only without the bath salts and scantily-clad MILFs and whatnot. If these breadsticks were not absolutely perfect, I would have to fucking kill Sean. For all the previous 225 words of buildup, the end scene was anticlimactic-- I ate some frickin' breadsticks. But I must admit, they were awesome. To put a flowery, poetic point to it, they were breathtakingly devine with their fantastical breadstickiness. The garlic/alfredo mixture tasted as if Zeus himself shot an enormous ambrosia-fueled garlicy load into my mouth. Nectar of the Gods, indeed! I felt like... I felt like (Sean Connery accent) Your Mom Last Night, what with all the massive spoo-gobbling and such. Yeah, your Mother's a whore, and I am awesome. Don't hate on me and Zeus-- just because we hang out and sing showtunes and watch gladiator movies together don't mean nothin', beeyotch. We can turn into a swan or a bull or something and love your lady proper, yo. Don't hate on our relationship, or we gonna bust caps in your ass. Meaning "killing-you-with-bullets," not anything gay involving your ass, of course. Not that there's anything wrong with that. posted by Nate on 7:43 PM link Wednesday, December 21, 2005
 posted by Nate on 9:26 PM link
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your stolen base are belong to Rickey Henderson. Questions or comments? Email nate@swankypimp.com |
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