Thursday, September 28, 2006

Feets don’t fail me now!


(Kelley you wanna skip this one? It’s about feet.)

Yes, this is about as exciting as life has been lately. And no, that is not an attempt to incur the creative and twisted wrath of the SBDA hosts and audience. I still have the weekend coming up soon.

Went to the podiatrist yesterday because I’d finally had enough of my feet breaking down all the damned time and keeping me from running, or making me want to saw them off with a hacksaw in order to relieve myself of the near constant discomfort.

When they first started going all wonky, one swelled up and I could hardly walk at all. Later on, they were both uncomfortable to walk on let alone run on them. And now after several weeks of trying to rest them, they aren’t a whole lot better. I had initially thought that maybe it was a hairline fracture or a “march” fracture because of all the running on concrete sidewalks. Or possibly even bone spurs in weird places in both feet. But in the end, it ended up being a little more wussey than I had masochistically hoped.

I went in yesterday and got examined. Out of personal hygiene paranoia, I washed my feet, changed socks and Febreezed the shoes before I went. The nurse found that both humorous and thoughtful, and I’m sure she wished that all her patients were as paranoid as I am. Well, she probably didn’t really wish that, maybe she just wished that few of the big, nasty bastards that she sees would.

Anyways; the doctor comes in, grabs my feet, yanks my toes every wichaway, asks me if random pokes and prods hurt, decides I need x-rays, and sends me off across the hall in a retarded-looking pair of brown paper slippers. I was cool with taking the 2 and a half steps across the hall barefoot, but you know, doctor’s orders.

I get my battery of x-rays and my dose of non-gamma radiation, head back to the other room a step and a half away, and promptly fall asleep in the chair for about 10 minutes or so. No time for sweet dreams as Dr. Foot comes back in with my results.

No fractures, not foot deformities, no nothing. Well, one bone in my right foot was slightly longer than its southie counterpart; but nothing that seemed I had a mutant gene or was destined to evolve and develop some kick-ass ability to run like the Flash. Damn it.

Turns out I have some tendonitis in both feet from just overdoing it for so long. Nothing that can’t be cured with more freakin’ rest, ice, and a couple of medications. One of those meds being a glorified extra-strength Aleve (I was pissed because I have plenty of Advil at home. And you can drink with Advil.), while the other was a steroid that isn’t even cool enough or strong enough to help me when I work out and hopefully doesn’t have that shrinkage side effect. 'Roid rage might be fun though.

So I’ve got about 3 weeks before I go back and see what’s up then. If everything’s not cool or close to it by then, I’m gonna ask him what medical science’s progress is with foot replacement surgery/transplants and nanobots.

D

May the Schwartz be with you!

As we learned from the great Yogurt in Spaceballs, it’s all about “merchandising, merchandising, merchandising”. You know; first there was the movie, then the t-shirt, then the flamethrower, and so on.


Now they’re gonna be doing an animated Spaceballs TV show. So, Spaceballs: The Animated Series, I guess.

With as much as they riffed on the original Star Wars trilogy, just imagine what they’ll be able to do with the last 3 crapfests (well ok, Sith was good).

Unfortunately, the series won’t begin until next Fall and will be on G4, which means that means most of the Nerduary inhabitants won’t get to see it. I guess you guys can just probably go ahead and download it off the Interweb or something right before I'm able to see it on TV. So tell me if it's any good in about a year or so.

D

Colonel Sandurz: Sir, don’t you think we’re being a bit too literal?
Dark Helmet: We were told to comb the desert so we're combing it.
[to two white henchmen with a giant comb]
Dark Helmet: Found anything yet?
Henchmen: Nothing sir!
[to two more white henchmen with a giant comb]
Dark Helmet: How bout you?
Henchmen: Not a thing sir!
[to two black henchmen with a giant pick]
Dark Helmet: What about you guys?
Henchmen: Man, we ain't found shit!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Huey Lewis & the News’ best album…

That’s right, we’re talkin’ ‘bout Sports!

Well, we’re not really talking about the album “Sports”; I just thought that was a clever title and intro. Yeah, I know; it was lame. I really just have a few news bits about recent sports.

Football:

Terrell Owens reportedly tries suicide
And then decides it’s just not for him
Owens: 'There was no suicide attempt'
------

Last Second Field Goal Sinks Eagles
Oh, no! We suck again!
------

Baseball:

Detroit clinches first playoff birth since 1987
Next up, the AL Central Division title. Hopefully. 4 is the magic number.
------

It's the end of the season, and Atlanta still sucks.
Right now, the Braves are probably trying to figure out what in the hell they’re supposed to be doing in October besides playing baseball. But I guess if they’re dead set on involving baseball, they could always watch the Mets.
------

Basketball:
No college news to speak of. So all that’s left is the crappy NBA.
Hawks' Claxton, runner-up for Sixth Man, out with broken hand
The shitttiest team in the NBA gets a little shittier.
-------

Hockey:
Ummm… “puck” rhymes with “fuck”.
-----

Those are the stories, and it’s all news to me.

D

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

It’s a set up!

A couple of the girls I work with are trying to set me up with someone they know that used to work here and still goes here. (I’m still trying to figure out if dating a student is merely “frowned upon” or not)

I’m really 50/50 on the whole “setting D up” thing. On one hand, it’s kinda fun to see what kind of girl people will try and set me up with. And it’s pretty much an easy “in” because I really don’t have to do much work. But on the other hand, most of the time people are gonna try and set me up with someone who’s “not my type” (or someone I would never, ever approach myself). Or I start to feel weird about it because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or anything by either turning down the offer or saying that I’m not interested.

So, basically I’m damned if I do; damned if I don’t. Again.

And yes, I have seen this girl that they’re trying to play matchmaker with. She’s not my type. Well, in the face.

But then again, I’m so ass backwards when it comes to dating that maybe I should invest a little more in the “setting up D” strategy. I mean, I’m the guy who occasionally socially devolves and thinks it’s a great idea to try and bust out the “Do you like me? Check ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. (you can only check yes or no, and you can’t draw a ‘Maybe’)” note with girls.

Do girls still find that cute? Or just retarded? I guess I should look into that.

D

Friday, September 22, 2006

Penciling in the rotation (part 4)

I think this is about it. God, I hope this is about it. Even I am starting to get sick of hearing about TV. I can’t imagine how bad it must be on the poor suckers who read this shite, I mean, the valued and cherished readers of this blog.

I’ll make this quick and painless, I promise:

Thursday @ 8:00 will be filled by Smallville. Especially since this season will feature several appearances by The Green Arrow.

Thursday @ 9:00 will be manned by Grey’s Anatomy. Now that Grey’s has moved to Thursday nights, it’s filled a little gap I used to have there and also doesn’t compete with Family Guy on Sunday nights anymore. It’s a “win, win” for everybody.

See? Quick and painless. Especially since I’ve already numbed you guys down with a couple of other lengthy posts about me watching approximately 37 hours of TV a week.

What? You thought I was finished? Ha! Silly, reader. Here’s the weekend edition:

Friday- The night where shows go to die. I don’t give a damn about any of them.

Saturday- For the next few months there’s college football. That’s about it.

Sunday-
8:00- Simpsons
9:00- Family Guy
10:00- GSU Coach’s Show
10:30- Venture Brothers


There. That should just about do it. There’s a few other shows that haven’t started yet that’ll be in the Rotation, but I’m not gonna bother to write about ‘em. At least for now.

Maybe if you’re all good, I’ll share my official “TV Watching Schedule”, so that you’ll know when not to call me.

D


I gotta remember Robot Chicken in there somewhere while I'm at it...

Thursday, September 21, 2006

TV Interlude

Tired of my incessant TV talk? I thought so. So here's a little break for ya: a little, how do you say? Ah, yes...

News You Can't Use.


Man's lost gnome attends Steelers game
If Gnomey makes it to a West Virginia football game, my money’s on it being Adam.

-----

Answer to Hurricanes' woes could be simple as BVG
It’s just a matter of time before Kelley calls Miami as a reference for VanGorder.



Yeah, not a whole lot goin' on I can make fun of easliy.

D

Penciling in the rotation (part 3)

It’s a freakin’ trilogy! Then what would tomorrow make it? A quadrology? An epic? How about “The Never Ending Story”? No, wait, that’s taken. Whatever, on to the show!

Wednesday @ 8:00 is usually reserved for me reading the most important comics that I picked up that week (Hey look, if you’re bored with my TV talk, I could always switch to comics. Yeah, that’s what I thought.). But last night I gave the new series Jericho a shot.

Life in a small Kansas town after a suspected nuclear strike on a major city intrigued me. I got a small creep-factor thing while watching when they saw that Denver was the city that was hit. Then an even bigger one when they learned Atlanta was also. I started wondering about fallout, wind speed and direction, evacuation, etc… TV time just about turned into Miller Time real quick. A few calming and centered breaths later, and I was back to thinking “Billy Loomis” and “Major Dad” whenever I saw Skeet Ulrich and Gerald McRaney onscreen.

With the need to find out where else was hit, a mysterious new resident in town showing up, and at least one escaped convict on the loose; Jericho may have enough going for it to get me to postpone “comic book readin’ time” a little bit Wednesday nights.

Forewarning for tomorrow: a new Grey’s Anatomy is tonight. I probably won’t do anything major for a Part 4 tomorrow, just the statement of already having 2 slots filled. Heh heh… “2 slots filled”. I am such a child.

D

A note from “comic book readin’ time”:
Civil War #4 was absolutely “Holy Shit!”
And from 52 #19: “Skeets, you fucking bastard!”
That is all.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Penciling in the rotation (part 2)

Back with another quick look at the upcoming Fall TV rotation.

For the foreseeable future, meaning until it goes on hiatus because it was a summer show, Tuesday @ 9:00 remains occupado by Eureka. This is the kind of show (along with Battlestar Galactica, Stargate: SG-1 and Stargate: Atlantis) that makes you wonder why all the shows and movies on SciFi can’t be this good. Maybe if they quit developing and making the worst movies on TV (see Boa or Python, or Boa vs Python), then they could afford to pick up other quality shows (like perhaps Firefly when it was dying?) or develop other good original series.

Tuesday @ 10:00 is tentatively filled with Smith. It’s your run of the mill crime show with the thieves as the protagonists. I wouldn’t have really even given a damn if it weren’t for the stars: Ray Liotta, Virginia Madsen, Jonny Lee Miller, and Amy Smart. That’s a lot of movie talent for a TV show, and all it yielded was a pretty good, but not great show. So it’ll hold down the fort until something better comes along I guess.

That Tuesday @ 8:00 slot is a bit of a wasteland right now. The only possibility is the upcoming Friday Night Lights. But for now, I’m biding my time until I see it.

So that’s Tuesday. Nothing fancy, but enough to carry me from Monday’s heavyweights to Wednesday with the Juggernaut (bitch) known as Lost. I don’t think anything new starts tonight, so you’re probably off the hook for a “rotation” post tomorrow. Unless I feel like posting my handy, dandy TV watching schedule I made.

Man, I take TV way too fucking seriously…

D

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Penciling in the rotation (part 1)

I thought of titling this post “The return of good TV” because after watching 3 awesome shows last night, I actually thought out loud “That’s a good fucking night of TV watching, right there.” And indeed it was. 3 solid, non-reality, scripted television shows that renewed my faith in broadcast TV; and fanned the flames of my desire to see more scripted shows and far less reality garbage. Except for Who Wants to be a Superhero? That shit rules.

I saw 2 season premieres last night. Well, one season premiere and one series premiere anyways. A returning and kick-ass How I Met You Mother cemented its Monday @ 8:30 spot in the rotation, while the new Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip absolutely blew me away and grabbed the Monday @ 10:00 time slot. The third show in the middle was one of my little summer gems, Vanished. And that would lock up the Monday @ 9:00 position, if it weren’t for Heroes starting in the next couple weeks at that same time. And as much as I really like Vanished, how can it stand up to a show so obviously geared towards geeks like me? Damn, I really need to try and get TiVo. Or a life. **The Princess says I should just start dating a girl with TiVo. That would pretty much take care of both of 'em. Any takers?**

Like I said, Mother was kick-ass as usual. Continuing on from last season with the same wit, humor and emotion as last season; it had me thinking that Mother was my version of “Friends”. And not just because they hang out at a bar instead of a coffee shop. But that does help. Then there was Barney. Barney is enough to make any show better: “Chico & The Man & Barney”, “Knight Rider & Barney”, “ER & Barney” or how about something girlie like “Oprah & Barney”? See? It’s limitless.

On to Studio 60. When I say that Studio 60 “blew me away”, I mean it. Aaron Sorkin has done it again. First was Sports Night, which was far too short-lived and is still one of my favorite shows. Then came The West Wing, which admittedly I never watched, but I imagine that people interested in politics and who followed that show from the beginning, felt about it the way I felt about Sports Night. And now how I feel about Studio 60.

Yes there was humor abound, and yes the pacing and exchanges were fast and furious; but it was the way you had to think to follow the exchanges and not just sit there and absorb it a la something like Friends that really got me into it. Not to mention the backstage or “behind-the-scenes” style of the show, which immediately reminded me of working in broadcasting. It actually made me miss it again for the first time in a long while. Plus Matthew Perry’s character Matt made Chandler look like Joey. As long as he can keep this up, the show has a strong chance; especially since he is arguably the show’s biggest star.

And back to Vanished again. As I said, it’s one of my summer gems (along with Eureka and Blade: The Series) and it’s had me hooked since it started. It’s a good, little “whodunit” that takes place in Atlanta, but is curiously devoid of any southern people. I guess it really takes place in Gwinnett or something. So far there’ve been more twists, turns and second guesses than a fat chick standing in between a Jenny Craig and a Ben & Jerry’s. I’m really hoping that Fox decides to move it to a more D-friendly time slot during the week. Or that they re-air episodes so I can catch them later. I’d really hate to drop this one.

So that’s the first 2 starters in the ol’ TV rotation, and the first to probably be heading to the Disabled List. Check back tomorrow for a possible second look into what’s gonna help me create the second greatest butt-groove my couch has ever seen. Not much is gonna beat “Free Movie Weekend”.

D

Yarr!!

It be the 19th day of the dreaded month September!




And ‘tis “Talk Like a Pirate Day” all across these treacherous 7 seas. So observe the day with yer 1 good eye and talk like a swabbie, not the landlubber that ye be, or I’ll have ta keelhaul yer scurvy-ridden hides!

Yaharr!


The Dread Pirate D

Monday, September 18, 2006

Avast!

What be that on the horizon, ye scurvy scallywags?

D

Friday, September 15, 2006

If at first you don’t succeed…

Get drunk and try again.


So, after last weekend’s overwhelming amount of suckitude; we’re gonna attempt another day-long tailgate and hope that the Eagles can get a freakin’ win. But as fun as the tailgating was last weekend (minus not getting to see some good friends), I’m still working on getting my act together and ironing out all the kinks in my tailgating process:

-located misplaced tailgating supplies from last weekend? Check. (Nothing in my hands, but I think I know where all that crap is)
-beer to last 5-7 hours of drinking before the game and however many hours afterward? Check (well, in a few hours anyways)
-supplies for the low-country boil? Negative (haven’t heard from Tommy yet)
-found back pack to keep all my tailgating crap from getting lost again? Check
-written note reminding myself not to streak the field again when I get really hammered? Check

So I’m still working on a few things. But I expected to be, as I won’t be a well-oiled tailgating machine until about the 3rd or 4th home game. So until then, it’s all drunken trial and error.

A note to all the faithful Screw Big, Dumb American viewers: look out for a small cameo from Japan’s #1 favorite rock musical guitar god: The Transplant. He’ll be accompanied by the future Mrs. Transplant, and hopefully they’ll help bring a little more positive mojo to the game. Because we sure as hell need all that we can get.

Go Eagles!
D

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Goin' YouTubin'

Apparently our A.S.S. is gettin' a little bigger.



Jake went and put the movie up on some little site called YouTube.

According to the stats, it looks like it's just truckin' right along.

It's got to be a matter of time before everybody's favorite drunken, idiot superhero finds out about it. God knows he loved it when they shot the damned thing. Now he's the friggin' preview image. This will end well. I'm sure of it.

D

Monday, September 11, 2006

Crazy, thy name is Busey.

Short, random conversations with Chris lead to short random posts that only he and I will think are funny.

-----
Main Entry: crazy
Pronunciation: 'krA-zE
Function: adjective
Inflected Form(s): cra·zi·er; -est
1 a : full of cracks or flaws : UNSOUND b : CROOKED, ASKEW
2 a : MAD, INSANE b (1) : IMPRACTICAL (2) : ERRATIC c : being out of the ordinary : UNUSUAL
3 a : distracted with desire or excitement b : absurdly fond : INFATUATED c : passionately preoccupied : OBSESSED
4 Gary Busey




------

I wanna be on "I'm With Busey 2".

D

Frustrated Incorporated

Apparently the SBDA audience has decided that the usual physical abuse just isn’t enough for them at this point, so they’ve all chosen to inflict great emotional damage to me as well. I’m half expecting that any day now, I’ll be hit and crippled by a flaming toilet seat falling from the sky. Hell, even I would laugh at that one.

At least the “semi-streaking” the field late Saturday night after the game amused me. And probably everyone else too.

D

Friday, September 08, 2006

Go Blue! One More Time!

The Georgia Southern Fight Song


Wave the blue, wave the white,
Hold the banners high the Eagles are on the wing.
Sound a cry to the sky as we look for glory,
Victory now we sing. Hail the blue, hail the white,
Hail the team that’s soaring upward to bring us fame.
Georgia Southern – Eagles!
Fight on to victory and win this game!
Blue and white fight, fight
Blue and white fight, fight
Georgia Southern—Eagles – fight, fight, fight!


Go Eagles!

D

Georgia Southern loses another of her own




“To call Erk a Georgia Southern legend is still a bit of an understatement”

Indeed. Erk Russell was the “original bald eagle” and the father of Georgia Southern football. He was the heart and soul of both the football program and, to be perfectly honest, the school as well during his tenure. Georgia Southern had no better ambassador, and probably never will. His humility, humor, heart, and commitment to “Just do right”; are what made him one of the (if not the) most respected and loved individuals the state of Georgia has ever known.

And for all of that and much, much more; Erk will be missed. But at least now he has the best seat in the house, and the best company and cigars to go along with it.

D

Thursday, September 07, 2006

More news that no one can use

Can you hear me now?
Well I guess that El Salvadorian cell reception isn’t as shitty as it is here. And I wonder if the prisoners kept the setting on “vibrate”…
---

San Diego not staying classy
This never would’ve happened to Ron Burgundy.
---

'Idol' singer Clay Aiken may serve Bush
He’s probably just biding his time until he can serve Dick. Cheney that is.
---

3 senators call for Jerry Lewis honor
Oh. That’s not what I expected. I was hoping they were gonna say the Senators want to be Jerry’s kids too. And since when is it that people other than the French love Jerry Lewis? Glaven!


I um, I got nothing.

D

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

No Soliciting

Some lady brought her rugrats into the office today with her. And the diminutive Willy Lomans proceeded to drop their catalogs and order forms right on my desk (on top of the work that I was actually doing, I might add), and instruct me on how to fill out the order form. Apparently, those pushy, little precogs just knew that I was gonna order some of their shit.

And it was Christmas shit to boot! In September! These pint-size snake oil peddlers were beating out the rest of the American Economy’s “Christmas Season Frontal Assault” by a full 2 months! Trying to corner the early, early Christmas shoppers I guess. But positive thinking and cuteness-glazed intimidation tactics weren’t enough to break me. Not a sober me anyways. (All those cute girls selling t-shirts in Paulsen’s parking lot have made a killing off drunk me over the years.)



But, I did at least humor them by looking through their catalogs, raising an eyebrow every now and then to feign interest in something stupid like pear & cinnamon stick candle or some crap like a Santa shaped oven mitt (although, the Hillshire Farms Sampler just about gets me every damned time). I actually chuckled out loud once when I got to the sports collectibles section, and I saw the Georgia Southern primary logo flag that I bought yesterday. I barely managed to keep from saying “Ha! I just bought that yesterday! Not that I would’ve bought it out of here or anything, even if I hadn’t.” I mean, I didn’t want the kids to cry or anything, even though that would have made the story better. To me anyways.

So the moral of the story is… well, there really isn’t one that I can think of. Umm, I guess just don’t bring your capitalistic younglings around when I’m working. Or 3 ½ months before I start thinking about Christmas (I celebrate Festivus) or thinking about anybody else but me. Or something like that. I dunno. I should have just made them cry.

D

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Help Wanted. Inquire Within.

Big, Dumb American seeks new personal sidekick to hang out with on frequent basis.

Duties Include (but not limited to):
Making me laugh, having my back, starting/carrying on conversations, being a drinking buddy, walking/watching the Future Overlord if BDA is not around, and other duties as assigned.

Qualifications:
Must live in Statesboro, be of legal drinking age (in the continental US), have reliable transportation, be a fan of Georgia Southern, have a working knowledge of sports and all things geek/nerd, like and/or have a dog.

Preferred Qualifications:
Shorter than the Big, Dumb American; not a fan of UGA; have a large group of hot, single, female friends; willing to hook the Big, Dumb American up with said hot, single female friends; easily riled up; have a fenced in back yard.




Salary and Benefits:
No salary. Benefits include: palling around with the Big, Dumb American; participating in exciting adventures and potential “Drunken Escapades”; gaining the wisdom of a seasoned reality TV star; possible free booze and food; acquiring valuable sidekicking experience; & other nifty benefits entirely possible.

Status:
Taking applications until position filled.

Email letters of interest; cover letters; resumes; and pictures of hot, single, female friends to: screwbigdumbamerican@yahoo.com to apply.

D

The Crocodile Hunter’s Last Safari


Steve Irwin (known to all as the Crocodile Hunter) passed away this past weekend when his heart was punctured by the barb of a stingray he was swimming with.

Normally I’d try and come up with something about the crocodiles of the world lamenting the fact that it wasn’t one of their own that got him in the end… well, I guess I kinda just did.

But what I really wanted to say is that the world will be a little less bat-shit crazy and ballsy now. And that, my friends; is not a good thing.

D

Friday, September 01, 2006

Drunken Escapades: Issue Numero Quatro!

It's my birthday this weekend. And in the hopes of doing some drunkenly, awesome things that could be considered "legendary" and lead to something worthy of the "Drunken Escapades" mantle; I present to you a shoddily produced....

Drunken Escapades: Issue Numero Quatro!


(The names in this story have not been changed to protect the innocent. I had a hard enough time remembering the story itself, let alone get that creative.)


Augusta, Ga. September of 2005. My last full night on the PROBE circuit. A night to go out, celebrate and say goodbye. A night for another Drunken Escapade.

It was my last full night out with the traveling college fair (meaning I stayed in a hotel, rather than going right home after the fair), which meant that all of the counselors were supposed to go out and say goodbye in an inebriated fashion. Since I had been on this circuit for a few years at this point, I had quite a few come out to join in the send-off.

I was staying at one hotel with a few other college reps (we’ll call this “Hotel A”), while another part of the group was staying at a different one (“Hotel B”, duh). This night happened to fall on the night of a Manager’s Party in Hotel A, so several people from Hotel B decided to come over and have a few drinks with us as we decided what to do after we finished all the beer that was there, I mean after the party was closed. We decided to head on over to a bar called “Stool Pigeons” not too far away from both Hotels A and B.

As we headed over to Stool Pigeons (a bunch of one-the-way-to-being drunks in a single car), we each called every other recruiters’ numbers that we had to try and help our gathering grow. An hour or two later and we had a good number of people there. Most of us drinking the night away, some just as well-wishers.

Fast forward to several, blurry hours later and it’s time to go. Trying to decide how we’re getting back to the hotel, we come up with a few options:
1. Take a cab
2. Walk
3. Catch a ride home with Aaron

So 3 of us decide to ride home with Aaron: Jesse, Neils and myself. The whole time we came up with and commenced with this plan, Aaron is saying that he’s going right back to his hotel (Hotel B) and his hotel only. He didn’t feel like driving all over Augusta after having as much to drink as he did (which was a pretty good bit). We paid not one bit of attention.

We’re half way back to the hotel (Hotel B), when Aaron stops the car on the side of the road. Neils gets out of the car and closes the door. I roll down the window and ask him if he’s gonna puke. “No. I’m going back to my hotel (this was Hotel C by the way)” “Ummm, ok. “ I manage. Aaron drives off as Jesse and I watch Neils head off toward a thick growth of bushes.

After a short ride, which Aaron claims was filled with a complete gibbersh conversation between Jesse and I and Jesse covering Aaron’s eyes while he drove; we get to the hotel. Aaron throws the car in park, we all get out, and Jesse and I at pretty much the same time look at the hote and then Aaron and asy “This isn’t our hotel!”. To which Aaron says “No shit. I told you guys I was going back to my hotel the whole time you guys were babbling incoherently.” Jesse and I shrug and follow Aaron into the lobby (still mixing gibberish and cussing loudly the whole time, according to Aaron). Up the elevator and out to whatever floor Aaron was on, and Jesse and I start arguing about something. We turn around and Aaron’s gone. And we have no idea which room he’s in.

Jesse vetoes my idea to just start knocking on doors and asking for Aaron (at whatever time in the morning it was), so we head outside to figure out what to do. After a quick pass through the lobby and a search for anything to eat at the breakfast area (not bagels or doughnuts, just apples), we hit the parking lot. Jesse calls Aaron’s cell, to no avail. I spot Aaron’s rental car and notice that the sunroof is still open. A light bulb flickers above my head and then shorts out.

“Hey Jesse, watch this!” And I climb headfirst into the car via sunroof. And for some reason, I’m shocked that the keys aren’t in there. Because I’m a drunken idiot. Jesse laughs and asks me what I’m going to do in there.

“I’m gonna try and hotwire it!” Swear to God, I said I was gonna try to hotwire it.

“Yeah, go ahead. I’m sure you’ll be able to hotwire a brand new Volvo with nothing but an apple.”

Jesse was right, no joy on the joyriding. Instead, I decide to turn the volume all the way up, the windshield wipers on, mess with the seats and anything else I can. You know, just as a little “good morning” for Aaron.

After getting out of the car via the sunroof again (instead of the freakin’ door), we realize that Gina was staying at Hotel B too. And we had her cell number. So we call. And call. Annnd call, until she finally answers the phone. There’s Jesse doing his best to try and persuade Gina to get up and take us back to our hotel (A) at God-awful in the morning, with me standing right next to him, chiming in like a mentally-challenged Cyrano de Bergerac. Somehow it worked.

Gina comes downstairs and immediately begins cussing us out for dragging her out in her PJ’s. We tell her she looks cute and we love her and blah blah blah, and we’re on our way. Time travel later, and Jesse and I are back at Hotel A. Gina drops us off, gives us the finger, and heads on back to Sleepy Town.

Jesse and I then get into a fight about whether to go to the Waffle House just up the street or Denny’s right next door. I win with the “Denny’s takes American Express” stance and we go there. After some “meat debacle” that I can’t really remember, we ask the waitress if we can still get beer. “It’s like 3 in the morning!”

“So that’s a no?” I ask.

“Guess so. “ says Jesse.

So we pay up and head back to the hotel. I take a gamble and peak into the lobby to see if maybe they had kept a few beers or wine in reserve so we wouldn’t drink it all earlier. And score! Jesse and I raid the tub like pirates and head back to our rooms.

I woke up the next morning a little surprised to see a beer on the nightstand and an empty can in the bed with me. I just chalked it up to a good night, because I wasn’t really sure what the hell happened exactly.

Jesse and I pieced it together later with everyone’s help, and now you have Drunken Escapade #4.

D