These (and every other) are the days that I truly miss you.
We have a makeup game for kickball today (Sunday) at 3:15. Needless to say, we are having everyone over to our new apartment for brunch and drinks. Keehner, Vince and I started drinking immediately after waking up and were joined quickly by Ted and Martini (who had also been drinking since waking up). Then, Brandon's neighbors (Molly, Amanda and I'm assuming Jenny shortly) joined up. Tanitah joined the party and my sweet D.O. is on the way.
The reason I am writing this is because they are making fun of me for my three Conan posters. I don't understand. If a man doesn't have a poster for Conan: The Barbarian, Conan: The Destroyer and the Conan: The Barbarian re-make, is he truly a man? I think this is like the tree falling question.
Either way, I love you and I need you in my vision soon. Please cancel your trip.
Love,
Dave
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Saturday, November 5, 2011
I'm so sorry, brother.
Timmy Chang's record was broken tonight. I know the noose is already tied, but please don't step off the chair.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Correcting Your Shit Worldwide
Because I can't comment on your "normal" blog, I'm forced to do it here.
"Dolce Gabbana sunglasses," Chris? Dolce and Gabbana.
Be a real person.
"Dolce Gabbana sunglasses," Chris? Dolce and Gabbana.
Be a real person.
Buenos dias, hermano.
I'm sitting here at the conference on international youth volunteerism. So far, it's been an opportunity for people to exchange e-mails and chat about their respective volunteer projects. As I don't have the latter, I graciously give out the former, particularly to any female Colombians that ask.
I will just say this: Colombian women know what's up. They are killing--and I mean killing--every other country's women so far. Not literally, of course, but they all range from reasonably attractive to gorgeous, and spend a good amount of time preparing their looks. American women are slobs by comparison. Tell Margeaux I said that. Step your game up, U.S. Of course, they all also speak with the accent I love so much. What a wonderful country.
As I have no business cards, phone number, or permanent address (not to mention no volunteer organization), networking is proving difficult here. So, I mostly work on my Spanish with pleasant Colombian folks and try to explain to them why Detroit is better than New York City. I've dropped at least 30 statements about the Lions en Espanol.
I'm coming to learn that apparently the ability to get along with crazy old dudes runs in our blood. I befriended a dude named Jaime (of course, his name was a selling point) yesterday. He's in his 60s, probably, and spent like 15 years in the U.S. Army in Panama, so I know he's loyal to the Stars and Stripes. Anyway, also obviously speaks some English. During one of our group breaks, another guy performs a hip-hop singing act (rather well, I would add) titled "Revolutionary Love." My companion Jaime says (and I can't mimic in text, but think of Jesus in The Big Lebowski) "Amor, eh? Someone es getting focked tonight!"
It was awesome.
Love,
Doggins
I'm sitting here at the conference on international youth volunteerism. So far, it's been an opportunity for people to exchange e-mails and chat about their respective volunteer projects. As I don't have the latter, I graciously give out the former, particularly to any female Colombians that ask.
I will just say this: Colombian women know what's up. They are killing--and I mean killing--every other country's women so far. Not literally, of course, but they all range from reasonably attractive to gorgeous, and spend a good amount of time preparing their looks. American women are slobs by comparison. Tell Margeaux I said that. Step your game up, U.S. Of course, they all also speak with the accent I love so much. What a wonderful country.
As I have no business cards, phone number, or permanent address (not to mention no volunteer organization), networking is proving difficult here. So, I mostly work on my Spanish with pleasant Colombian folks and try to explain to them why Detroit is better than New York City. I've dropped at least 30 statements about the Lions en Espanol.
I'm coming to learn that apparently the ability to get along with crazy old dudes runs in our blood. I befriended a dude named Jaime (of course, his name was a selling point) yesterday. He's in his 60s, probably, and spent like 15 years in the U.S. Army in Panama, so I know he's loyal to the Stars and Stripes. Anyway, also obviously speaks some English. During one of our group breaks, another guy performs a hip-hop singing act (rather well, I would add) titled "Revolutionary Love." My companion Jaime says (and I can't mimic in text, but think of Jesus in The Big Lebowski) "Amor, eh? Someone es getting focked tonight!"
It was awesome.
Love,
Doggins
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
I'm So Sorry
Chris,
I know you were upset about missing the Lions this year. I can only imagine how much more upset will be when you find out that you will also be missing NICKELBACK'S PERFORMANCE AT HALFTIME OF THE THANKSGIVING GAME AGAINST THE PACKERS.
That's right. The Lions are finally relevant, playing an undefeated team, and motherfucking Nickelback will be there.
God damnit.
I know you were upset about missing the Lions this year. I can only imagine how much more upset will be when you find out that you will also be missing NICKELBACK'S PERFORMANCE AT HALFTIME OF THE THANKSGIVING GAME AGAINST THE PACKERS.
That's right. The Lions are finally relevant, playing an undefeated team, and motherfucking Nickelback will be there.
God damnit.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Don't Tell Me What to Do
First off, you don't get to tell me what to do. You, who betrayed and abandoned me, are the last person that should presume to do such a thing. But because I am a charitable and magnanimous man, I will ignore this affront and write something anyway. Because I want to, though, not because you told me to.
I am writing this from my newly-constructed business nook, which consists of a bookcase and a computer desk situated in the front of our apartment, where a bank of windows overlooks historic Josephinum Academy. It is pretty sweet, and I am very much enjoying it. I'm actually enjoying our apartment as a whole. The only downside is that my room is pretty small and I have to hunch to get into my closet, but that's the price I paid in order to lock down this sweet pad.
Ted, Brandon and Vince are all here now (I started writing this about an hour ago) and we have started writing a brand new movie script (following up the award-winning That's the Ticket!) entitled Year of the Witches (not to be confused with Nic Cage's Season of the Witch, although we're going to try and get Nic Cage involved). General premise is, once again, based on facts: Ted and I get cursed by the witches from Hocus Pocus at midnight on New Year's Eve, 2011. Then, we go through the entire year, constantly bumbling through misadventures due to the curse. And then we end it one year later? I'm not sure, we've haven't gotten past the basic premise.
We have cable and internet in our place now, and it's about a million times better than our old apartment, which is pretty awesome. I would keep writing, but with all of these boys over here now, I've got to let you go. We'll talk about Halloween in another post, if you're lucky.
I am writing this from my newly-constructed business nook, which consists of a bookcase and a computer desk situated in the front of our apartment, where a bank of windows overlooks historic Josephinum Academy. It is pretty sweet, and I am very much enjoying it. I'm actually enjoying our apartment as a whole. The only downside is that my room is pretty small and I have to hunch to get into my closet, but that's the price I paid in order to lock down this sweet pad.
Ted, Brandon and Vince are all here now (I started writing this about an hour ago) and we have started writing a brand new movie script (following up the award-winning That's the Ticket!) entitled Year of the Witches (not to be confused with Nic Cage's Season of the Witch, although we're going to try and get Nic Cage involved). General premise is, once again, based on facts: Ted and I get cursed by the witches from Hocus Pocus at midnight on New Year's Eve, 2011. Then, we go through the entire year, constantly bumbling through misadventures due to the curse. And then we end it one year later? I'm not sure, we've haven't gotten past the basic premise.
We have cable and internet in our place now, and it's about a million times better than our old apartment, which is pretty awesome. I would keep writing, but with all of these boys over here now, I've got to let you go. We'll talk about Halloween in another post, if you're lucky.
I know you have the day off. Write something.
David,
As you know, the Lions definitively disproved the existence of God yesterday by humiliating Tim Tebow in Denver. One could argue that "maybe God is a Lions fan," but Jon Kitna is no longer the quarterback.
I know from the interwebs that you don't have work today. I assume you're going to do laundry, lay around hung over, and maybe eat some sort of microwavable food. Why not contribute something of value to society by writing on this blog? Sometimes, we are actually funny, and the commoners do so love to hear of your adventures.
-Dogg
As you know, the Lions definitively disproved the existence of God yesterday by humiliating Tim Tebow in Denver. One could argue that "maybe God is a Lions fan," but Jon Kitna is no longer the quarterback.
I know from the interwebs that you don't have work today. I assume you're going to do laundry, lay around hung over, and maybe eat some sort of microwavable food. Why not contribute something of value to society by writing on this blog? Sometimes, we are actually funny, and the commoners do so love to hear of your adventures.
-Dogg
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