Thursday, August 05, 2004

Psst....Sizzler....and By The Way, Your Friend Is Filled With Candy, Go Ahead and Cut Him Open

I saw a commercial on TV for everybody's favorite "fancy" restaurant--the only "fancy" restaurant with a spittoon and a free Syphillis test at every table--Sizzler. The commercial was a lot like the commercials that Sizzler always have had, except this time, when they named the restaurant, they whispered it. It was so wistful and enigmatic that it was actually creepy. There were two women standing in the middle of a mall or knitting store or tampon factory or something like that trying to decide where they were going to eat. Then, one of the women hears the word "Sizzler" as if it was delivered on the wind by a dozen pixies on ecstacy. Now, if I'm standing somewhere with somebody, trying to decide where to eat, and I see them start talking and listening to nothing and they suddently respond back eagerly, "Sizzler! We MUST go to Sizzler." I'm not fucking going to Sizzler with them. I'm probably not going to lunch with them or ever talking to them again. And, if I have to go to lunch with them because they're my boss or my mother, I'm going to Soup Plantation or the International House of Water and Baby Food because they probably don't have knives. I don't know what else the voices would tell her, but it probably would involve knives and wouldn't involve giving me a sponge bath. In summary of this long paragraph, don't go out to eat with schizophrenics--even if it's Kevin Costner telling you he has to build a baseball diamond in his corn field.

Also, I went to get a haircut today. There's always something weird about haircuts because there's this forced closeness and intimacy with the woman (I know, men cut hair, too, just not my hair) who's cutting your hair. But, there are situations (for a straight guy or gay woman) that get really awkward. When the woman is standing ridiculously close to you and her boobs are right in your face, you don't know where to look. She has to know that her boobs are close enough for me to actually hear the hair on her nipples scraping against her bra, yet she acts like everything is cool. Worse than this, though, is that I always associate getting my hair cut with women with what I call FVS--Fat Vagina Syndrome. This is where the woman, who seems a little chubby uptop, cinches her waist off so as to create the illusion that she is not as fat as one may think, but instead she is big-busted. But, this illusion is proved to be just that when one's eye wanders below the waistline and sees that their vagina sticks out just as far as their boobs do. This same thing happens to big men as well and it's even worse on them because if they're wearing tight enough pants, it actually looks like they have no genitalia at all. They're like a fat Ken doll without the sweet smell of six-year-old hands all over them.

Interesting thought of the day:
The next time somebody says to you, "What would Jesus do?" hit them in the eyes with a skateboard and tell them "He'd turn the other cheek, motherfucker!" Then run away laughing, cuddling your cool-ass Nash skateboard.

Booyaah! That's all for today. Had somebody new comment last entry, let's see if we can get somebody else new this time. Or, if somebody has access to a website that brings in a lot of traffic, they can go ahead and feature me as their Internet Loser of the Year/Week/Life/Fortnight. Bye, bitches.

1 comment:

Fiercely said...

I used to have a skateboard when I was 10... it was pink ><