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For this week's column, I figured I'd change things up by
entertaining you.
I have this idea for a game that you and I can play together that
won't end in me having a shaved eyebrow or curled up in the fetal
position in Kmart.
I'll explain the rules. I don't know if you've seen the television
show "Fact or Fiction," but if you have: lol. Although your
television-watching taste is questionable, you'll probably have a
slight edge over those who watch stuff like the news or whatever.
I'll present to you three tales of incidents that I allegedly
experienced in the past week. One of these stories, much like my
beard, is fake. If you can guess which adventure is fake, you and I
are soul mates. If you can't, then you're still my soul mate but you
owe me a dollar. I'll be sure to include lots of seemingly
insignificant facts to help you. Let's get started and don't choke.
Story I:
It was Monday and I was wearing a blue T-shirt and jeans. I was also
wearing shoes, socks, underwear and a book bag, but I figured that
kind of goes without saying. My hair was pretty long and because I
sweat while undergoing intense physical activity (such as sitting in
vibrating chairs) I decided to wear a bandanna. I decided to get a
haircut that weekend. Before I left, I noticed that it's 2005 and that
I'm Tim Landry so I couldn't afford gas. I decided to ride my bicycle
to school.
Outside, I admired the beautiful day. I put my headphones on to drown
out songbirds and passing vehicles containing passengers who shout
random things like "bicycle!" and "that" and "Look at that loser
riding."
I made it to campus and looked over my left shoulder in preparation
to make a left turn. My bike, however, decided to go another
direction: Ape-shit. For some reason I took a spill. For some other
reason I shouted "Wugghhhhhhhh?" on the way down. I would later
discover the chain was off, but I assumed it was just trying to escape
any association with me. Naturally, there was a witness to the carnage
and, naturally, it was a
blonde girl wearing pink.
"OMG are u OK?" is what she would have typed to me if we were talking
on AOL or the Yahoo.
I stood up fast and opened my mouth but nothing came out. Then I said
"Uhh... uhh... Gravel?"
She then said "lol kthxbai" and left.
Story II:
I decided to get a haircut on Saturday because I had a bangin' party
to go to on Sunday. I would love to make some joke about the party to
make you pee, but in actuality the party was for a soon-to-be
2-year-old cousin of mine. So my life is enough of a joke as is. I was
going to go to my usual hair salon, but it was closed because they
were out of combs, I think. So I got said haircut at another place.
The results were very good for Tim standards. This basically means I
still look like male, overall.
In celebration of my jewfro, I went with two friends to some thrift
stores. Of all conceivable human beings I could possibly have seen in
the store, fate decided to make my regular hairstylist go shopping
that day.
"****!" I shouted before diving into a cardboard box filled with
ties. Unfortunately, I didn't think it through and dove into the very
tie box she was browsing.
I am not making up the next line of dialog. I swear to Stamos her
exact quote was:
"Hey Tim, I... You got a haircut," she said.
I was screwed. I think my exact words were: "... I... Haircut...
Flaven! Laaaady!"
Then I bought some used underwear. But not from the store, but from
some guy on Johnston Street.
Story III:
Six hot emo girls were making out with me on my futon while The
Postal Service and Weezer and stuff played on my computer.
It was Monday and my Audi was in the shop so I was pretty pissed and
needed a massage. This one girl offered but I told her no (just to be
difficult). I told her to instead hand me my Playstation controller,
which was actually, like, 4 inches away. Then this kinda screamo girl
who was apparently also there started playing with my long hair and I
told her to stop because it makes me feel girly. To make up for the
three or four twirls she got in, I lifted some weights, which made two
of the girls faint. During the weightlifting, one of my abs tore a
hole in my shirt that I got at the thrift store. One of the girls who
was still conscious said the torn shirt made me look "Hollister," so I
told her to leave.
On the way out, she tripped over this big pile of groceries I forgot
to put away from earlier. She stood up and had some lettuce in her
hair, which is weird because I didn't remember buying lettuce because
I only eat meat and Fruit Roll-Ups.
Results:
Score yourself a friendship with Tim Landry if you guessed stories I
and II are the true stories. Story III is fake. It was pretty obvious
because of the continuity error of my hair's length.
©2005 Tim Landry
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