I have my writing class tonight, and I have to write some sort of skit with six characters. That’s gonna be a rough one. I was going to start it last night, but instead, I sat on the couch and watched Fistful of Quarters, which, for the uninitiated, is a great movie about what happens in a universe where no women dare tread. It’s a documentary, and it’s pretty damn awesome. Okay, that’s that.
My boy is super content in his swing right now, which is pretty cool, because usually when I write this, he’s freaking the fuck out in his bouncy seat. I’m having some coffee. Is this becoming a dull blog about what’s actually going on in my life? Oh dear. Let’s see…what’s in the news today….pizza pie is pretty hot these days….hmmm.
I woke up this morning and I was positive that I had to go to work and I was dreading the shit out of it, but nope. Not until tomorrow. Tomorrow is also the day that my bands have to start practicing, because we’re playing some shows. I’ve been writing new songs with the intention of doing a seven inch series, which is a good way, I think, to get some output going without having to live in a studio or a van.
Okay, that was a loooong pause there, as I spoke way too soon. The boy began to wail, so I had to dance him around and fly him (superman style) around the house.
It’s now way later and I’ve been thinking about some things. Namely:
If I was going to be an outlaw biker, I think I’d be one of those black dudes with the Kaiser Wilhelm type WWI single spike helmet and a crazy leather jacket with metal shit all over it. To me, those are the best outlaw bikers.
If I was going to be a homosexual, I’d probably want to be one of those guys who is just always really well put together and everyone kind of goes, “Is that guy gay, or just stylish?” Of course, the response would have to be “Oh, Brendan? He’s SUPER gay,” because repping the gayness is important too. These are my favorite gay guys. I like the bears and the leather daddies too, but they kind of freak me out. Also, the super swishy dudes are a little much, so yeah, I’m going with ‘dude in the nice jacket and matching scarf over there.’
If I was going to be an unattractive girl, I think I’d wear glasses and work in a coffee shop, thereby forcing the nerdy dudes to come in and lust after me in a way that only they can. I’d play cool music and maybe make my own clothes. I’d have either a cool station wagon or some sort of irreverent bicycle.
If I was going to be an attractive girl, I’d like to be super country, and always wearing tight things, but eating ribs and drinking Jim Beam and stuff. I’d also have to be pretty smart and together, because otherwise, I’d be the super country, tight shirt wearing, rib eating, Jim Beam drinking chick with all the friends at the abortion clinic who’s getting banged by that creepy lurker over in the corner of the room by the pool table.
If I was a giant black dude (non outlaw biker category) I’d want to be into cooking. I saw this thing on ESPN where these NFL dudes were chefing it up, and it was a good look. I dunno. Is that racist? Hmmm.
If I was a superhero, I’d want to be superman. Not picking superman is stupid. He can fly and his only weakness is a rock from a makebelieve planet. He can shoot shit with his eyes. I know Batman seems cooler, but he’s just a rich guy with a drinking problem and a metal suit,,, He’s essentially a more mobile Mick Mars.
If I was a lesbian, I’d have that fauxhawk with pixie sideburns thing going on for sure. I’d probably also have some questionable tattoos…just, you know, because they all do. Wait…I already have some questionable tattoos. Halfway there.
If I was super duper fat, I’d get tattoos of food all over myself. Pizza, Ice Cream Cones, Jars of peanut butter, whatever. This serves two purposes. Firstly, it would show that I was at ease in my own skin (which is the only quality in men that women find attractive, for the billionth time) and it would also be a great way for me to show my love for some of my favorite things. “Yo! You like Reddi Whip too? I got a can of it tattooed on my shoulderblade, dog!”
If I was old, I’d wear a fedora and have a mustache. I’d always dress with gloves and shit and I’d wake up at four thirty and be napping by five. I’d probably use a cane and always tip my hat to every lady I saw. While sitting at the bar, I’d tell incredibly offensive dirty jokes.
If I was a martian, I’d want to look exactly like an earthling, but you know, I’d have a huge wang and I’d get drunk by drinking orange juice or something. Also, I’d just know a lot of stuff somehow. Like English, for example. Also, I would be completely clueless about social mores, making it a real hoot for my friends to deal with me at parties.
If I was a washed up child actor, I’d be in a bad band and we’d always go on Howard Stern and talk about my ‘demons’. We’d play live, but we’d suck. My wife would have huge fake tits, a horrible tan and some of the worst skin ever seen anywhere.
If I was a bum I’d have to spread a way-out message about secret agents from countries that no longer exist (like maybe the Ottoman Empire, or Yugoslavia) and I’d have a crazy beard and wild eyes. I’d always wear hilarious Kenny Chesney shirts and stuff and I’d smoke and then eat the butts. I’d say things like “let me get that sandwich”. Or maybe I’d just play in a band and take care of my kid while my wife works…either way.
Hmm…alternate realities are funny things. I think, honestly that no matter what I was (save maybe the martian), I’d probably actually be a whole lot like I am now, just with a slightly different point of view (like I’d love cocks, or I’d be sick of white guys always clowning around me like idiots, or I’d really hate Lex Luthor). I don’t know. It’s Wednesday, which is my Sunday. I need to go write a skit about six people. Outlaw biker, Superman, Lesbian, bum, old guy and washed up child actor. This is really shaping up nicely.