Nachos

End Game

"SCOTT! TWO THINGS! ONE: WE DON'T HAVE ANY CHANCE OF MAKING IT TO THE PLAYOFFS, RIGHT?"

- Matt Eckert

Lord, I'm tired.
It was a pretty successful weekend: I wasn't pulled over for drinking and driving, and cancer only hurts at this point; it doesn't kill.
LISTENING TO: NEVERMIND THE BOLLUCKS - HERE'S THE SEX PISTOLS
With that in mind, is it just me or does the anti-abortion song "Bodies" rock? It's the second best song on the album, after "Pretty Vacant."
Maybe, I'm listening to it wrong, but I believe it's anti-abortion. I get liberal jitters at this.
Ho hum. I never let Pat Buchanan change my mind about anything, just because he writes well.
So, back to the weekend.
Friday, I learned that I had three days to pay my rent, or I would be "vacated." It was only the seventh! How shitty is that? Usually, they warn you after five days and don't get pissy till ten. I was hoping on holding them till next Friday.
Damn.
But, the good folks at Pebble Cove are used to welfare people, so, I understand.
P.S. Don't move in here: they have one garbage can for the entire complex and they tried to throw me out for not paying my rent.
Bastards!
Saturday Josh had his wedding shower.
Wedding showers.....HOW MANY FUCKING GIFTS DO THESE FUCKS GET? Josh has two bachelor parties, that cost 100 a person, all said and done. Then he has a shower: 30, then a fucking wedding: 600.
Bullshit. I should marry my hand and rake in the dough.
And, of course I'm the only sap that shows up to these things. Same with Scott's wedding shower.
Oh, I'm getting married, shower me with gifts!
Bullshit, you should shower me with gifts; I'm the lonely toad that's not getting laid.
Ho hum.
At least I got free booze out of the endeavor.
It's now Sunday and Scott dragged me out to another football game. I warned him, though: a) I wouldn't stay for a second game. b) If there are enough guys there, I'm leaving at the half.
After driving through a whiteout of cottonwood and pollen, I was glad to find that the other team forfeited.
So, I figured: on my way, then.
WRONG.
Nope, some band of gypsies showed up and convinced us to play with their people and ours on two 7-player teams.
What a bunch of shit.
So, I had to play a fucking game anyway, in the hot sun, and wheezing from cancer and cottonwood.
Fucking Scott!
After that, it was the standard issue Mother's Day.
We BBQ'd. I highly recommend it.
Now, I find myself drinking a beer and writing a REAL BLOG again, for no real reason.

To kill time, in my lack of inspiration, let's list some important quotes I think everyone should be up to speed on.

"I'm gonna throw this down your ear hole."

- Mr. Foster, PE teacher at Meridian Junior High.

It seems Adam Kleiver had made fun of some fat and/or retarded kid on the football field during PE. Well, Foster takes Adam aside and says this to him, then proceeds to throw the football as hard as he can at Adam.

"Well, I knew it wasn't Eckert's locker; cause, if it was Eckert's locker, there'd be a bunch of coke cans (and pornography; and anti-Foster literature)."

- Mr. Foster (Steve Galassi)

Again, we come back to Foster. During Junior High, I had this affinity for Coke, like I now have for beer. I guess I'm just a beverage man. Anywho, Foster was doing some kind of locker inspection and we were hiding something (I forgot what) and he asked this one kid if it was his locker, and he said "no." That's when Foster said the thing about the Coke. Seriously, I'd open a Coke and drink it throughout the day, between classes, from my locker. The parens are creations Steve made. The porno has to do with the fact that Matt Oien and I taped porno movies from copies we stole from other people's parents (one was a copy Scott stole from people he was babysitting for, yeah, Scott was big into babysitting in his youth - fag), and then we would sell the copies at school. The "literature" part is just vintage Steve.

"MY BEST FRIEND DIED IN VIETNAM!"

- Mr. Foster to Kliever and I.

Yeah, so it was another Memorial Day assembly, and Kleiver and I were sitting next to each other. Well, we had this game called "quit pushing," where'd we push someone into someone else while yelling, "quit pushing," like someone had pushed you.
Pretty ingenious, eh?
Well, we did it during the Flag Salute during the Memorial Day assembly, and took down an entire row of bleachers.
Well, Foster comes up, points at both Kleiver and I, and motions us on down.
Outside, he rips into this tear-jerking moment about how his buddy died in Vietnam...you like that, how people make the misery of other's their own?
Anyway, Kleiver is behind Foster as he gives me hell.
At one point, Foster starts kinda crying. Well, Kleiver is standing behind him and making goofy faces at me, so I start busting up. Well, Foster loses it then, and comes close to hitting me.
He then sends us to the office and I hear:
"You two JACKASSES are in big FUCKING TROUBLE - 'SPECIALLY YOU, ECKERT!"

"Matt, I think I'm gay."

- Chris Weisberg

This occurred last night, after Chris was nice and drunk. It was kinda scary, because after saying it, he whipped off his Hilfiger slacks and low and behold: short-shorts. He then started dancing around like that midget in Twin Peaks all while stroking his man-tits. It was incredibly disgusting.

Just joking. This happened years ago.