one too many (a throwback)

so, there was no perfectly aged bit available for today…

…and yet, somehow, i picked a never-used throwback bit that’s old enough to vote. i’m proud of myself here!

05/28/2004: “syn tax”

i was chatting with kimberly (yes, the former “porn star in training”, for those who remember the whore from the early years) last night when she popped me on my phrasing…

see, i mentioned to her that i had gone down for a nap around 3:30 or so, and she had accepted it at the time. then details started to surface and she called me out on it. now, anybody who REALLY knows me knows that i don’t take naps. never have. not even as a kid. so, for me to crawl into bed for any length of time in the middle of the day would require one of three things:

1. a naked woman

2. mind altering substances

3. illness

now, for those who have seen me in the last forty-eight hours (of which there have been few) you know i’m not sick. and for anyone who knows my work schedule (and social luck of late) you know you can strike numero uno from the list as well. so that just leaves us the “runner up” slot…

i was once told (i believe by one of the wilson brothers, or it was eddie griffin) that champagne is the ultimate “commitment” for an alcoholic person – once the bottle is opened , you HAVE to consume it. the whole damn thing. if you don’t, it goes flat. now, i’ve heard that you can stick a silver spoon in the neck of the bottle and fix that – and i do have two full sets of sterling flatware to choose from…

…but i’m not afraid of commitment. and i needed a blow-off, do nothing day. so the bottle of veuve that was left over from new years was cracked open and consumed in it’s entirety. then i lay down for a nap…or more accurately, passed out…for about three hours.

see – subtract the bubbly and it would have been a legitimate nap, right?

i busted a guy who worked with me at sundance on this once. he told a story that ended with, “…and then i fell asleep in my buddy’s front yard”.

um…no.

one does not “go to sleep” in the front yard of a buddy’s house. one passes the fuck out in the front yard of a buddy’s house. here are (appropriately enough) a six pack of signs that you in fact “passed out” rather than “went to sleep”…

if you get woke up by…

1. the morning paper hitting you in the ass – indicating you’re on the front lawn. you didn’t even make it indoors. you, my friend, have passed out. and no, that lawn gnome is NOT trying to “get” you…

2. a nine ball in the nay-nays – indicating that you are on a pool table…that would ALSO fall into the “passed out” category. same can be said if it was the sharp pain of a foosball player kicking you in the ribs – although that is a WHOLE different level of passed out, i’m afraid…

3. your own car horn – indicating that you are not only in your vehicle, but in the driver’s seat of your vehicle. and your forehead just met the horn. it’s time to re-think your plan to get home.

4. the laughter of children – this is not quite so disturbing if you HAVE children. or date someone with children. or, if you can struggle with the memory, remember the person you hit on in the bar the night before mentioning that they had children. but when it is STRANGE children, and you notice the world is spinning – because you happen to be on a merry-go-round in the yard of the elementary school two miles from your house…well…um…you know what i’m about to say.

(at this point i’d like to interject that as well detailed as some of these might seem to be, it’s just because i’m an EXCELLENT writer, and not because i’m detailing my own adventures, okay?)

5. the gentle caress of a stripper asking you if you would “like some company” – you’re still IN the strip joint, you loser. okay, so you picked the nice, dark corner table so if you got a bit touchy-feely no one was the wiser – but now your lack of viewage by security has allowed you to konk out in there. that’s a BAD sign…plus, god only knows what the girl waking you up REALLY looks like!!! count your blessings – at least you’re not wondering if she looks okay as she woke you up at your place, right? you guys noticed i avoided that “wake up with the ugly bitch” cliche so far, right?

and finally…

6. the stank breath of an ugly bitch JUST KIDDING!!! – we’ll go one step worse…

6. sirens – no matter where you are – the front yard of your own home, the back lot of six flags, or, all the worse, careening down I35 at 90 mph, if this is what actually brings you back to consciousness, this is only going to get WORSE. just don’t call me when you get that one phone call, and you MIGHT be okay.

and that will be MY version of the “be safe memorial day weekend” speech, okay?

basically a bit late, but it’s the thought that counts, damn it!

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