Saturday, November 28, 2009

U Can't Touch This!

Yes I am writing a blog on a Saturday night. Yes I am in NB. Yes I am wondering what the hell made me think two trips home in two months was a good idea and how I thought that my sanity could take it. Yes I just saw two young women and a maybe 8 year old daughter each carrying a 12 pack of Budweiser in the liquor store (when the cashier asked what they were doing tonight they replied "oh just running the roads!"). Yeah I either want booze or a gun. I think I need to write an entire blog just about my hometown and fill you all in on just how amazing it is that I am not a complete freakshow. I'm sure that blog is coming down the road, I just need to let it simmer a little before sharing.

I used to play on a co-ed softball team in Fredericton for like 6 years. It was loads of fun, we all got to be good friends and would party together sometimes on the weekends. Usually the girls and I would end up going out to the local dance bar and dancing it up. Inevitably we would see some douchebag dancing somewhat foolishly and thinking he was hot stuff. I'd be feeling no pain at this point and I would exclaim to the girls "He looks like he needs a DANCEOFF!". Only the guy would not know he was in the danceoff. That was the beauty of the event and made it that extra bit funnier. I would slowly make my way out on the dance floor as the girls watched and laughed. I'd end up in the vicinity and I would start dancing like the guy but with my own modified moves. The girls would be laughing so hard and the guy would eventually clue in and slink away. This occurred numerous times over the years, it was almost a tradition. Softball party - drunk - bar - danceoff - victory. After a while I rightfully claimed my "undefeated" status and I would always say "Still Undefeated!" as I made my way out onto the dance floor. Let me just say that I am living proof that Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine were right when they said eventually, no matter how long you hide, "the rhythm is gonna get you"...

During one of these softball parties my drink of choice was Jim Beam bourbon. To say it flowed easily was an understatement, I tore through my bottle in record time. Keep in mind that these are Maritimers and when you are finished your bottle of booze that is no reason to stop drinking. They see it as a great opportunity to see just how much you can drink. It's not a party until someone passes out or falls in the fire. The host of this party saw that my glass was empty and almost immediately filled it with rum and coke (80% rum from what I can remember). Luckily I was outside when I took a drink. The girl standing in front of me (Shauna, about 5'8 tall) was not as lucky when I took that first drink, my mouth rejected it and I proceeded to spray it in her face. Shauna looked at me with the liquid streaming down her face as it slowly dawned on her what happened. At this point I would like to remind people that revenge is NEVER the answer. Her reaction surprised me. She calmly took the drink from my hand, sipped from it and then spit it all over my shirt. Thinking it ended there I tried to control my laughter and considered myself super lucky in that exchange. For Shauna it did not end there, it for sure didn't...(obvious foreshadowing)...

A year later a couple from the team were getting married and we were all invited to the wedding and the dance later. The wedding dance was taking place in the ballroom of a hotel in the city. (To further understand the Maritime mentality we all decided to throw in money on a hotel room. You may be asking yourself how we were all going to sleep in the same room and that would be a fair, but incorrect assumption. The hotel room was just for our booze, I'm not sure if anyone at all even ended up sleeping in the room). On this given night I had chosen Jagerbombs and beer as my weapons of mass destruction. I had never tried Jagerbombs before, but how could mixing Jagermeister and Rockstar possibly go wrong? After a few trips back to the room for drinks and socializing I noticed it was getting hard to walk. The energy drink was kicking in and I was so hyper it was ridiculous. I literally had to focus on slowing my feet down and not running. This got progressively harder to do after a few more trips to the room. Did it slow me down? No it most certainly did not.

Estimating the crowd at about 200 people, I knew about 20-25 of them. The DJ was playing a wide selection of tunes and people were dancing. I was talking to some friends up on the side of the dancefloor when I heard the DJ on the microphone. It was precisely at this point that I noticed Shauna slinking away from the DJ with a devilish grin on her face. The DJ says "It has come to my attention that we have a competitive dancer here tonight. It seems this guy likes to have danceoffs with people and has never been beaten. Since he has never been beaten he will have to have a danceoff with himself. Come on up here Mike and let's see what you got". I am usually not one that craves a lot of attention. If I do want attention I want it on my own terms. Dancing in front of about 200 people by myself in no way, shape or form is on my terms. This was absolutely mortifying to me. Luckily I had the perfect storm of liquor and hyperactivity coursing through my veins and before I knew it I was walking onto the dancefloor. I was ready to take on the world. If I was going to make an ass of myself, I was going to do it in epic proportions.

The music started and immediately I recognized the familiar beat. The first thing I thought was at least I know the song and I was relieved it wasn't "Dancing Queen" by ABBA. "U Can't Touch This" blared from the speakers and I brought out my tried and tested moves. As I have stated before, it is hard to believe but I have had no formal dance training. The crowd was getting behind me, clapping and cheering me on (this is how I remember it anyways and nobody can tell me different). Eventually I was running out of my own moves so I brought out the "rolling the dice", I did the water fountain, I mowed the lawn. Let me tell you, that is one long ass song. I was dying. Luckily about this time people started coming on to the dancefloor and dancing off with me. The bride's father came out first and I made short work of him. The next guy was the bride's grandfather (a fan favourite - the old guy had the odds stacked in his favour, not only is he like 86 and dancing at his grand daughter's wedding (come on you know you are going "Awwwww"), but he has moves from like 1920-1975 or so). He's breaking out the knee wags and the twist, honestly he could have just tapped his foot and clapped and the crowd would have cheered for him. I was like a boxer getting repeatedly smacked in the face and on the ropes. It didn't look good for me. Luckily when all hope appeared to be lost and I was going to lose to an 86 year old man he remembered he was 86, promptly ran out of gas and had to sit down. Thanks for coming out. You gotta stay in it to win it. A few other people came out to challenge but I had caught my second wind and kept knocking them down. Finally the song ended and the crowd clapped for me. I even put my arms over my head in victory. Did I almost lose to an 86 year old man? Yes. Is it a cheap win because I won on stamina alone over an old guy? Debatable. Do I still claim undefeated status? You're damn right I do. A year later my roomate (also the best man at the wedding) said my performance was "legendary". Sadly there are only a few pics and no video to support this though. Use your imagination, it was legendary.

Moral #1 of the story...if you give someone a rum and coke shower, they just calmly spit rum and coke back on your shirt - DON'T ASSUME THAT IT IS OVER. I can't stress that enough. Moral #2...with the right blend of questionable alcohol and energy drinks, you can talk yourself into believing almost anything is a good idea.

I have attached the video inspiration for the "rolling the dice" move. I had seen the preview for the movie before the wedding and mentally added it to my repertoire of dance moves. I never dreamt it would be what ultimately saved me in the danceoff. Later when I saw the movie in theatre I laughed out loud at the "but it's ALL he has!" part. I was the only one laughing, but I am fine with that. Stay thirsty my friends. It is quite possible I might lose my mind here in NB and this could be my last post. I'm just warning you.


Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Sad Kermit

This is one of the funniest videos I have ever seen. Anytime you can watch a childhood icon smoking crack and crying in a tub it's a good thing in my book. Bonus points since it's a freaking Muppet. Enjoy.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Oh You Like It Don't Ya???

Back in NB I worked at a sporting good store and to say it was slack was an understatement. One of my best friends (AWALL) worked there with me in the footwear section and my roomate (Teeder) at the time worked down at the other end in the hockey section. AWALL coined the phrase "Oh you like it don't ya??" and it soon became part of our regular vocabulary. I'd be eating a chocolate bar and AWALL would say "Oh you like your chocolate bar, don't ya???". The phrase had universal appeal and could be applied to almost anything. We found it funnier than we should have I would say. It had a surprisingly long shelf life as well, I'm talking years here. Finally AWALL and I gradually decided to let it go with the occasional resurrection here and there with hilarity ensuing. The key to the continued enjoyment was the infrequency of use. Teeder didn't quite get this concept and he kept saying it all the time, generally to mixed reviews. He refused to let it die.
Teeder and I had a few guests over on a Friday night and the drinks were flowing quickly. There were likely 15 people in the group and we decided to hit the pub downtown so we all set out on foot for the 10 minute walk. Teeder and I were walking along cracking jokes and all of a sudden I spot this guy crossing the road up ahead with a girl on each arm. Upon further inspection I noticed that the girls are quite attractive and the guy has a mullet. Yes, a mullet. Let me repeat, a mullet. The guy is fiddling with his car keys at the driver's side door and these girls are hanging off him like he is Brad Pitt. As I am about to walk by his car on the passenger's side he seems to notice me staring at him in disbelief and our eyes lock. I yelled out "OH YOU LIKE YOUR MULLET, DON'T YOU?!?!". What happened next was a domino effect of epic proportions. #1) The guy took a step back as if my words struck him upside his face and it just suddenly dawned on him that he did indeed have a mullet. I'm sorry, but you know when you look in your mirror if you have a mullet. If you leave your house with a mullet, expect drunken or sober ridicule. #2) The girls let go of his arms and took a step back from him, looked him up and down and seemed to suddenly realize that he indeed has a mullet. At this point they appear to understand they were that close to getting into a car with a guy with a mullet. The looks on their faces turned quickly from smiles to disgust as they continued to back away from Mullet Boy. I followed up my original comment with "It's Friday night and your mullet's TIGHT!". That fully completed the knockout. Maybe it was a bit too much overkill for the poor fellow but I like to go the extra mile. By this point the girls have totally deserted the guy and are hurriedly walking away down the street, occasionally looking back to make sure their eyes have not deceived them.

At this point we are well past the guy and Teeder is doing everything but peeing his pants laughing. He can literally hardly walk. He just keeps mumbling "Oh you like your mullet don't you??" over and over and wheezing. To this day he still brings up that night when we talk. Just a typical night in my life back in the day, right time-right place. For the mullet guy, wrong place-wrong time. But in all honesty, there is never a good time for a mullet...

Stay thirsty my friends...

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Randomness

It's funny how fast time flies by when you measure your life in blog entries. It's a bit scary as well, I blink and two weeks go by. Sorry to leave you all hanging awaiting the next entry, I will do my best to edutain (educate + entertain) you. I present to you some random thoughts...

You came into my life 3 years ago
One week in I said "No, no, no..."
You've been a letdown in so many ways
Less than 365 days to go...

You make too much noise when I ride you easy
The cost to have you stop makes me queasy
I can't wait until you are out of my life
I will replace you in less than a week easy breezy.

You almost got me into a 3-way with Asians
I got caught up in the reservations
But they could not afford to have you
And now I am paying the reparations

I know this is not what I deserve
I'm starting to despise your every curve
Just the thought of you spurs anger and spite
I'm talking about my Jetta, ya perv...

(refer to the countdown on the right, I'm very proud of this!)

The other day I was going through the Wendy's drive-thru and I ordered my combo. The woman asked me if I wanted to upgrade my combo to "Small", "Medium" or "Large" size. Wait, hold on a second dearest Wendy's worker...If I can "upgrade" my combo to "Small", what the hell size does it come in normally?? Miniscule? If I don't upgrade to Small do I get one fry and a shot glass of iced tea? It is amazing, yet sad, how much time I have spent pondering this.

I was talking to my insurance company the other night to obtain a quote on a potential new car. She informed me I could likely save money if I got tenant's insurance as well as it gives a considerable discount when you have auto and home insurance. In a moment of genius I ask her if my home insurance protects me against the Kool-Aid man? There is a prolonged silence on the other end of the phone. Doesn't everyone know that the Kool-Aid man smashes through walls? I spent the next 5 minutes telling this woman that I was just kidding and didn't intend to smash a hole in my wall or drink Kool-Aid for that matter.

Why can't Canadian airline companies put the actual rates on the website? If I get an email telling me I can fly to Atlantic City for $8, I expect to hand the ticket agent a $10 bill and get change. This is not the case though. They advertise a fare of $8 and when all is said and done (improvement fees, "taxes", etc) you are lucky if you get on the plane for less than $100. I saw a fare of $29 each way from NB and back and I ended up paying almost $300. It doesn't seem to be the same way for US airline websites, what you end up paying is reasonably close to what is advertised on the site. I don't understand...

Rogers is not 100% evil as I previously believed, it is about 99.5% evil. There is at least one person working for the company that doesn't have his head up his butt.

Stay thirsty my friends...