Are you holding? No, I’m serious this time.
Anybody out there reading this that doesn’t know me probably thinks, “Huh, that guy has some weird shit happen around him sometimes.” Well, believe me, if I told you half the stuff that I see, hear, taste and smell, your brain would shut down Schiavo style. I’m like a weird shit superconductor.
You ever find a homeless guy in a girl’s closet?
You ever get arrested for giving a guy a ride to a crack house?
You ever seen a guy whose parachute didn’t open land 30 feet from you?
You ever have a Jehovah’s Witness break into your house and try to save you while you’re taking a shower?
You ever have a next-door neighbor build an airplane in his living room, and then blow his own head off because he couldn’t figure out how to get it out?
You ever mow the lawn of a CIA safehouse and realize somebody screams every time the lights flicker?
You ever been been robbed sitting in the drive-thru at Taco Bell, and then get yelled at for not being able to pay for the Mexican Pizza you ordered?
And don’t even get me started on “Clothing Optional Weekend.” Seriously.
And that’s just the stuff I tapped out off the top of my head. I’ve forgotten more craziness than most people can make up. Once a week someone says, “Hey, remember that insane thing that happened to you?” and I’m like, “Oh yeah. I forgot all about that Pulitzer Prize winner who tried to talk my parents into making me spend the night with him for my own good when I was 12 and turned out to be a child molester” or whatever.
I’m also one of those people that others seem comfortable talking to, about things no one should feel comfortable talking about to anyone. I guess it’s my kind eyes.
Yesterday I got a call from a former employer, who pretty much single-handedly takes up vol. 4 of Devon’s Time Life Series of What the Fuck Just Happened?!? That particular volume has luxurious Zig Zag endpapers.
“Hey, can you get any weed?”
“uh…”
“My son really wants some.”
“uh…”
“He just got out of rehab, and he’s pissed.”
“uh…”
“Seriously, it’s not for me.”
“uh…”
“I swear.”
“uh…”
“I know you don’t smoke a lot, I just thought you might know someone.”
“uh…”
“You sure? It’s just that I promised him I’d make some calls. He’s really being a pain in the ass.”
“uh…”
And trust me when I say, it’s actually 100 times crazier than it sounds.
August 26th, 2005 at 6:53 am
Well, I’ve always been fond of the story about you visiting your dad on the wrong weekend.
August 26th, 2005 at 7:30 am
I’m still working through that one.
August 26th, 2005 at 8:52 am
Sooo. How did the story end Silent Bob? Did you hook a brother up with the sticky icky or what? I mean, his son isss getting pissed, and I’m just getting into this damn story that apparently has 100 X Potential!
August 26th, 2005 at 2:00 pm
That’s great great (two greats) stuff. What happened to the parachuter? (I guess you’re not technically a parachueter when your parachter doesn’t open.)
August 26th, 2005 at 2:53 pm
If someone ever says, “Hey, let’s go watch them ‘practice’ for an air show,” just say no.
You may find yourself ‘practicing’ to sleep for a week.
August 26th, 2005 at 3:08 pm
Was the phone call from Rick Rabe?
August 26th, 2005 at 3:10 pm
Funniest. Comment. Ever.
August 26th, 2005 at 3:36 pm
fine, if you don’t want to supply me with the weed just say so. it’s cool though, my dad finally found some.
August 26th, 2005 at 8:52 pm
So can you get me some weed or what?
August 26th, 2005 at 9:01 pm
Official response to all inquiries to my capacity to provide “weed:”
I don’t know why anybody would want weeds in the first place. I paid some homeless guy 10 bucks to get rid all the weeds in my yard. That’s all I know about “weed.”
And honestly, if you knew me, asking me for pot is like asking me to teach you how to get laid. You’re just going to get a lot of stems.
August 27th, 2005 at 3:39 pm
Cat Stevens wrote a song about that phone call:
“I was once like you are now, and I know that it’s not easy,
To be sober when you’ve found something going on.
But take your time, smoke a lot,
Why, think of everything involving pot.
For you will still be here tomorrow, but your connection may not”
August 27th, 2005 at 6:27 pm
Stems, like stem-cell research? What you talking about? I’ve been laid but I’m still interested in some stemstyle action.
August 28th, 2005 at 7:23 pm
I want to hear about you visiting your Dad on the wrong weekend….. that sounds promising.
Devo, I too find myself on the listening end of a lot of weirdness.