I'm Studying You

It's official. I punched my ticket to Hell.

I blame Dane Cook.

We did a whole lot of nothing today, which is a lot of hard work if you ask me. Me, Jake, Winkler and Kenzie just chillin' like 4 lazy ass lumps of flesh of furniture. I think I napped twice. Awesome.

We managed to get a ride to the lawn fete. For those who don't know, lawn fetes are basically carnivals run by Catholic churches as fundraisers, with games and rides and beer tents and food and gambling and all that shit. Lots of people...lots of opportunities for trouble.

Winkz went into the "I Got It" tent like 3 times and screamed "I got it!!" and bolted. I Got It is kinda like Bingo in a way, but you throw little rubber balls into a grid until you get 5 in a row and win a prize.

But the best was this tent where you pay $2 for the opportunity to smash a creampie into your friend's face. They sit down and stick their head through a hole in a board, and you take a plate full of whipped cream and jam it into their grill. Good times. Cheerleading squads know how to raise funds, for sheezy. And yes, I did just say "for sheezy", my neezies.

Every damn time we walked past this tent, a guy with a megaphone would be loudly promoting this game, usually into Winkz' ear. So Winkz finally had enough and told this joker he wanted to smash him in the face. Much to our chagrin, he gladly obliged. Anything to make a few bucks, I guess. I wanted him to give the megaphone so I could do his job, but he wouldn't give it up. Downer.

So Winkler facials the dude, whoo hoo and just like that the fun is over, right? Not so fast, because if it was I'd have nothing to write about.

One of the ladies running the pie-fest calls us back. We're all apprehensive, thinking this chick is going to pull a fast one with the leftover pie cream. Finally she just says "Don't you guys want the rest of this, ya know, and just get somebody else with it?"

It's go time y'all. May as well have just handed me a million dollar bill and demanded I waste it on hookers 'n blow.

I grab this plate and proceed to walk. I'm holding it as if it's the church's collection plate and I'm taking donations of stupidity. A boy, let's estimate his age as being 9, catches his gaze on my tasty plate and, no pun intended, his eyes pied up with excitement.

"Hey guy! You like that! Yeah! Whipped cream. Want some?"

He nodded and smiled and was ready to dip his fingers into that plate when...whoops, look at that kid, a faceful of cream. Yes, I jammed that all up in and around his eyeholes. Goodly. Job well done.

The funniest part? The kid's parents laughed thier asses off big time.

I know. It was a total dick move. But you'll have that in a day full of them, like me straight-up ignoring CWC at her place of employment. As in, I walked about 12 inches away from her and failed to acknowledge her presence. Diesel.

But the best part was running into my bro, and even better, my sis who's up from Florida with her boyfriend, which was a nice surprise to get to run into her before sunday at my dad's for dinner.

And let me rant about that. Love dad for making a stellar dinner on sunday for family. But do I need him to pick me up at noon saturday? And crash on his couch where I have nothing to do but watch him fall asleep in his recliner during bad western movies? Triple yikes. But it'll work out somehow.

Anywho, the cards are dealt and I look rude blogging during a card game, so peace out and I swear I'll peep you cats soon, I promise. Meanwhile, don't trust dudes with plates of whipped cream. Mad love, WDC. Goodnight now!