Hey everybody - I�ve got the fevah! Casio fevah! Want some?
(Don�t worry, we don�t have to share the same glass or mix spit or anything)
Go here. Download �The New Sound�. Be prepared to have song stuck in head 24/7.
G�head and listen. I�ll wait.
Did you hear it? Did you hear it?
I know! It�s great isn�t it? It�s like getting knocked over the head with a big old hunka-hunka 1984!
The worst part is I cannot. Stop. Listening. I�ve been playing the song looped over and over and over at work and cube-mate Matt�s told me to knock it off already, but every time he goes for a smoke break (which is like, every 5 minutes) I sneak a listen.
Casio keyboardin� is the new crack!
So, anyway, my obsessive tendencies * aside, know what?
Because they take all the available parking and they keep me up at nights with their �Olay! Olay! Olay!� The Chicago Fire (that�s soccer to those who don�t know, Football to those who do know and are annoyed by the American term �soccer�) sent me a pair of free tickets to a game (match? Spar? Round?) next week!
It was totally unexpected. I got the letter Saturday and opened it up and the tickets just fell out of the envelope and then I was all, �What�s that Marketing People of the Chicago Fire? You mean you�re gonna send a bunch (herd? gaggle? Flock?) of Hott International Types in sexxxy short-shorts to my backyard so they can chase around a little ball and rough each other up a bit and get all sweaty and you�re gonna let me watch for free?�
Feh! Are you kidding me? What do I wear?
Better yet, those of you in the soccer know, what do you think for fan accessories? The come-hither Oversized #1 Foam Finger?
Yes? No?
Other weekend notables: my �slap the raw and bloody 2 pound T-Bone on the grill at the vegan bar-b-que� gag didn�t go over as well as I had planned.
Humorless vegans!
I jest! I jest! For crying out loud, I am not that much of a meat-eating moron. I ate a bunch of yummy soy-y food and Boca-products and tasty greens right along with the rest of the crowd and had much fun.
Though, I cannot tell a lie. After lighting up a post-Boca Marlboro I took great satisfaction in reminding the self-righteous of the group Boca�s are a Philip Morris product so we are all in fact, throwing our monies at Big Tobacco, some of us are just cutting out the middle-man so please take your disapproving tongue clicking elsewhere!
Again, I jest! No one was being self-righteous at all. That was a lie. It was more like, �Excuse me, I�m going to step over here and get my lung cancer on. Who�s in?�
And I don�t know, maybe it was all the soy, but I�ve been getting excruciating charlie horses (horsies?!) in my calf the past couple of nights. I�ve always been told that kinda thing happens as a result of a potassium deficiency of some sort, so I got all primate and had myself a few bananas.
I hope that does the trick, because, and I don�t care who you are or what you�re wearing, it is most unsexy to hop out of bed at 3am pounding your fist to your calf screaming, �Cramp! Cramp! Craaaaamp!�
But sadly, in my case, it really makes no difference, as there was no one around to witness the event.
I think my newest pick-up line shall be: Don�t make me eat all those bananas in vain, gentlemen!
And, you know, I was going to go into another aging health issue but I realize now just how much of a Sunny Acres Retirement Community Newsletter has this become, so I�ll just save the �hangovers sure do get a hell of a lot worse after 25, � gig for another time, k?
Because tonight - I drag my ass to the Laundromat!
Oh, the glamour.
* don�t sweat it, I actually ordered the entire CD last week. Should be here any minute �then I can loop the entire album as opposed to one track and hopefully it will be less annoying to those normal people of this world.