Crazy Bling!

I love watches. I always have. And I really like the fancy jewelry stores at the big malls… cause they have lots of nice watches. I never buy anything, of course. I just like to try on the really expensive watches… Breitling, Omega, Rolex.  LOL  … This so makes me feel like a big shot.

First, I take my own wristwatch off… ’cause they’re gonna wanna see what’s already there… George brand from WalMart kinda makes me look like the low-baller I am… and I think … in a store like this … the naked wrist says “it’s time I treated myself right for a change”… whereas the George watch says “Hi, is there a Taco Bell in the food court!”

OK… now, I carefully eye the selection… then confidently indicate the first of what will come to be just a few choice items. You see… the millionaire knows what he wants… but then again… he is discreet and contemplative when it comes to important decisions like this. ( lol  I’ve really thought this through – what a dork! )

So I watch the lady take the first one out of the case. She always wipes it down with that fancy soft cloth… she’ll take a look at the tag on it… say some gobbledygook I never listen to.. And I’m all “mm yes, yes”… and she hands it right on over to me.

At times… the urge to yell “LOOK!!  A GIANT CHICKEN!!” and jet out the door with my new present causes my internal temperature to rise 12 degrees and thick sweat gushes from my forehead… but I usually recover nicely. Other times I blame it on Taco Bell and excuse myself.

Alright… fancy watch in hand… Cue the know-it-all…

For starters… I never look at the price tag. After all… if I have to ask… then I can’t afford it, right! *wink* She’s gonna tell me what it costs anyway… and I’m gonna ask “and you’ll take Am Ex Platinum right?”…

If you’ve ever had a Breitling, Omega, Rolex on your wrist… then you know that OMG feeling! I could only imagine the OMG feeling would be so much more intense if … say.. my wife were to give me one for our anniversary next year. ( xoxo who loves ya baby! )

So… the nice lady stands there with me for several long minutes under those scorching halogen spot lights while I eye those beauties one last time… (guys, I am talking about watches… say it with me… waaatchesss).  Alas! “Ya know… I like these a lot… I’m going to leave it up to my wife… see which one she gets me”. (haha)

The nice lady writes the specifics for each watch on the back of her card… I tuck it in my shirt pocket… And head on over to Taco Bell.

And that’s how I spent my Saturday   😀

Published in: on June 16, 2010 at 4:58 am  Leave a Comment  

Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills.

What could be more thrilling than trying to outwit the Internal Revenue Service?

Years ago I was friends with a guy who had just got himself a nice little street bike. He calls me up with this great idea…

“Hey, man! Let’s go see my buddy Matthew in Manchester! I got an extra helmet!”

Time out. I want you to understand something. He is inviting me to ride on the back of the bike… with him in the front… just so you are clear about this.

“Alright!”, I answer. “Let’s do it!”. Yeah. I’m a sucker.

So he rolls up on his Honda 250… this is a small bike by the way… and Here We Go!

Now… I already have paranoid delusions since birth… “Everyone is staring at me”, I used to tell my Father… and he would correct me, “No they’re not… It’s all in your head”. REALLY?! ‘Cause you know there is nothin’ stranger than seein’ two dudes rompin’ about town on a tiny little motor bike the size of your granny’s Hoverround in the dead of summer. I doggon guarantee you… every-one-was-staring.

Anyway. We are on our way to Manchester… some… I don’t know… fifty miles away, I think. Yeah… that’s right. You have the picture in your mind jusssst right…    I’m on the back. Holdin’ on tight… ’cause wouldn’t you know it… dude man at the helm loves to jack rabbit start his little scooter and my skinny little butt keeps slidin’ off onto the back fender. You’ve seen Dumb & Dumber. No further elaboration is needed.

One sec… (If you have not seen Dumb & Dumber… please stop everything you are doing and watch this American Classic before moving on with the rest of your life).

Long story… so I’ll break it down for you…

There is no Matthew.  We ride around all afternoon searching for Matthew. “What’s the problem?”, you ask me??  The Hellion driving this fancy low rider has no clue where this mysterious Matthew even lives. You think I’m kidding, don’t you! Nope. That’s right kids. We came all the way here… on public roads… to see… nobody.

But alas! The day is saved…

Yes, indeed! We are goin’ to the mall! Doggon if this whole trip is gonna be a waste. We are headin’ to the fancy podunk mall of Manchester and we’re gonna…. you know it!… pick up some chicks.

Stop me if you need a moment to recover. I know what you’re thinkin’…  Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills. You know, like nunchuck skills, bowhunting skills, computer hacking skills… Yeah. Girls tend not to go for dudes who like to ride on motor bikes together.

So we roll into the mall lot… and right away… all eyes are on us. That’s right ladies… men are here.

I say to my buddy… “Dude… lemme drive… I been on bikes my whole life… lemme drive”.

Reluctantly he turns the handlebars over to me… with one stipulation… he will ride on the back to make sure I don’t do anything stupid. Good thinkin’! And off we go!

Ah, nowww…. time to get the full attention of allll the babes…   But! Girls are impressed with dudes who have mad skills! Right?

Right! After all… we are now on this babe-impressing mission. And I know exactly what girl like. Trust me.

No warning. I just gun it. I know we were cruisin’ fast… the eyes and cars went streaking by…

Oh crap. I could see the parking lot was ending. Uhh. Andddd there was a…. drop off!… into another parking lot… we are saved! Yessir! “Hold on man!”…   that’s right… I am gonna show the world my mad skills!

So, the curb is slanted… a bonus characteristic to my advantage… having been a long time BMX  enthusiast… I was quite confident in my curb jumping skills. We hit the curb … launch into the air… Andddd….

Oh darn…. that parking lot is kinda far away… and wayyy down there. Uhhh….

SLAM!  We hit the curb at the bottom with the front tire… “Nice job!”... already pattin’ myself on the back.  “But, man that was a hard landing”

Kerthunk. Kerthunk. Kerthunk. Kerthunk.. Kerthunk… Kerrrthunk… Kerrrthunkkk…. Kerrrthhhhunkkk……..

“Oh My Bike! My b***s! My Bike! My b***s!”

Yeah. The impact shattered the front rim. Nice. Now what.

Ah! “Dude… I know bikes… I can fix this… it’s nothin man”… I’m thinkin’ quick here, right.

Yeah. Right. We call another buddy who drives 50 miles in his pickup… Thank GOD for pickups… backs his truck up to a hill… and we push the bike into the back of his truck… and the whole way home I’m all “Dude, I can fix this… I swear”.

Yeah? I paid $150 to a bike shop for repairs. And… guess what!… No Chicks! Andddd… I can’t ride his bike anymore. Awww.

Published in: on May 19, 2010 at 8:20 pm  Leave a Comment