Sunday, September 18, 2005

magically delicious

i got up early this morning so i could meet hanky-poo and his trophy wife for brunch. the rendezvous was 1145 at the train station parking lot (since i don't know the way to the irish pub). had it not been for the detour outside of maastricht, i would have made it right on time; however, i got rerouted towards heerlen/aachen, and right outside of heerlen, there was a massive traffic jam.

being that i am every inch a quick thinker (you're not business savvy if you buy any of that for one second), i got on the a-76 towards aachen. at the first exit, i departed the autobahn and got right back on in the opposite direction.

i made it to the station 20 minutes late. oops.

so ya'all are probably thinking, "no biggie. call trophy wife! call hanky-poo!" yes, well i forgot to buy a prepaid cell phone card while i was in germany. holy fucking christ, am i swift. and i stood them up.

this will be the third time i've done that, only this time i actually tried my damnedest to show up. since i missed my mid-day interlude at the irish pub listening to the irishmen talk about football and whatnot, this is what i had to do to make-up:

i got a pepperoni pizza for lunch. it was gross. even the ranch dressing couldn't make it taste better.

i bought a movie (blackhawk down).

i went to the bookstore. still the same books from 2003 that are being sold under the guise of the new bestseller's list. i have read all of them, or so it seems at times.

i sped home.

i ate some of that disgusting pizza, accompanied with ranch dipping sauce.

i watched blackhawk down. the ending got me a little choked-up; the part where the letter addressed to the little girls is being read.

i started some laundry.

this morning, as previously mentioned, i woke-up at the asscrack of dawn. i went downstairs, made a cup of tea, and turned on the television (my parents have freaking cable - yay for me!). my dad sat on the couch to the right of the overstuffed chair (my chair), and we watched some documentary on some island where nuclear testing was accomplished. this mcfly picks up a discarded 22-mm shell and he starts giving a brief history on that particular type of casing. he looks at the spent shell, looks at the camera, and says, and i shit you not, "i probably shouldn't be touching this. it's made with depleted uranium."

dumbass! his name was angus wainwright. i told my dad his colleagues call him angus wainwrong. my dad simply dubbed him anus.

with my family, no channel, no matter the pursuit by which the producers ally themselves, is safe. i flipped to animal planet. normally, i don't go ed begley, but a lot of the documentary channels weren't airing programs that early in the morning. animal planet was literally my only option.

my dad, bless his heart, apparently has a fondness for chimps. we're watching this special on chimps in the country formerly known as zaire. the narrator is saying something about the mommy chimps being shot and the babies are then brutally removed from their habitat.

"aaw, how awful. who would do that?" my dad asks aloud.

i'm not going to go as far to say my dad has no respect for the animal kingdom, but i was taken aback by his deep concern.

......until he busted out with, "at least club them instead."

as if that wasn't bad enough, some 50-something lesbo has taken it upon herself to feed the baby chimps in the sanctuary of a CAGE. yes, how very sanctified. this sanctimonious old cow, after feeding the baby chimps, puts her face in the grill for kissy-kiss time.

and then there's my dad. "give her some tongue! she hasn't gotten any in a while!"

sweet mother of christ. as my quality time with my dad came to a close, a brief commercial, less an advertisement and more a documentary on speed, with the dalai lama (or some other tibetan monk wearing a sheet anyway). the lama (or do you call him dalai or do you call him D.L.? so confusing) was thanking national geographic for building a refuge for wild tigers. there are all these stupid ass tourists standing around and petting full grown tigers (and then they get all offended when the tigers attack).

i say to my dad, "that's fucking dumb. who the fuck pets a grown ass tiger?"

and my dad, mr. sensitive, says, "that's really nice that they built that. it preserves the tigers so our future generations can hunt them into extinction."

ah, how sweet. i havta go check on my laundry now. i can't believe i missed brunch at the irish pub with hanky-poo and his sweet trophy wife; i'll never live this one down.