It’s on, neighbors. Last night, I went to see Piranha 3D with my roommate and some friends. I’d been drinking Johnnie Walker Red Label out of an ice cup for 2 hours while watching flesh-eating fish tear apart porn stars. I was in a good mood. Tyler and I pull in our driveway and notice that someone has moved our cone.
Here’s the backstory on the cone. The cable guy came to our house a few months ago and put a cone in our driveway to ensure that no one driving down the street would hit the back of his truck. When he left, he left the cone at our house. Our house is tucked back a little and difficult to find if you don’t know where you’re going. So my roommate and I decided to leave the cone at the edge of our driveway so friends who were coming over would know where we were. It’s not obnoxious. You would never really notice it.
But one of our neighbors apparently doesn’t like the cone. So he or she, while we were gone, took the cone and threw it behind our house. I was infuriated. At first, I thought about putting a sign on the cone that said, “If you touch this cone again I will call the cops.” However, I decided that was too easy. I figured all of the granola-eating hippies that live around us wouldn’t be deterred by that (especially my neighbor to the right whose God-given name is Garfield).
So then Tyler and I devised a new plan. If the cone bothers these idiots, then what’s going to be in our yard from now on is going to make them burst into flames. The cone is staying — fact. But in addition to the cone, our guests will have other landmarks to look out for. Here are a few:
So folks, if you are ever in Raleigh and want to see a spectacle shoot me an e-mail and I’ll tell you where I live. Because I’m about to make it rain with obnoxious junk in the front yard, and all of the neighbors are going to have to sit on their front porches glaring at a fair-style House of Horror for the next year.
So tonight’s the night — going to see Piranha 3D. I’m a little concerned though. I was just on Rotten Tomatoes and the movie has surprisingly high ratings. Right now, 75% of critics say it’s good. Clearly, you don’t go see a movie like this because it’s critically acclaimed. Here’s a prime example of a review:
"Many new 3D films aren’t designed for the medium, but Piranha 3D is ideal: an exploitation movie with lashings of blood, bouncing bare breasts, and masticated body parts being thrown around, all fake as hell and often funny."
My roommate and I go to trivia every Tuesday night. The winning team wins a $50 gift certificate to the restaurant/bar. The place is a real piece. At one point, it had a serious fruit fly problem. And the men’s bathroom has been broken for at least 18 months. But the trivia is fun and they have damn good wings accompanied by cheap ice cold beer.
Generally, my roommate and I like to stockpile our gift certificates and make it rain one time a year. Seeing that my second year of law school is looming, I figured it was about time to count up our booty and head to High Park Bar and Grill for some debauchery.
Last night, about ten of us headed over there with $200 worth of gift certificates and a hearty appetite for destruction. We started with an appetizer of wings and moved on to an entree of wings. Except for my friend, JVH, who ordered something called “A Taste of Europe”, which was a bowl of noodles, a can of Ragu, and 10 of the largest meatballs (we surmised that these were simply hamburger patties in ball form). The European taste festival was supposed to include some sort of sausage, but apparently they were fresh out of tube meat last night — so JVH mustered up the courage to substitute the sausage with a few more meatballs.
After crushing 100 or so wings and enough Miller High Life ($2 special) to fill at least one Great Lake, I asked our waitress what the tab was looking like. At this point, we were hanging around $170 (this including me being "Iced" and then me subsequently "Icing" someone else, naturally).
There was only one fitting conclusion to the night — and that would be Irish Car Bombs. After ordering up a round, our total was $199.77. It was time to call it a night. We kicked down the door, bloated and full of faux chicken scraps and cheap beer, and I drifted home. Naturally, JVH was thrilled about his night-long Italian excursion sans passport.
It was a great way to end an awesome summer, and I feel satisfied and ready to start the new school year. Well that’s not true. It’s going to suck, and I guess I’ll just have to deal with it.
Recently, Reckner asked me about our registry. For a moment, I’d completely forgotten that your nuptials bring about an onslaught of free shit. Well some of it is shit; some of it is awesome. Some of our friends recently got married. Soon after, Reck and I went over to their place and realized that they had a veritable buffet of kitchen items, bottles of wine, bottles of nice liquor, plates, forks. You name it. They had it. And it was free.
So Reckner has been nice enough to throw me a bone and let me figure out a few things to register for. Frankly, I don’t care about most of it. Reck has great taste, and I’m sure she will pick out great plates and napkins. But I thought to myself, “There has to be something out there for your house that you really want that you’d like for someone to buy you.”
Finally, I figured it out. The list is small. But just because it’s small doesn’t mean it’s not important. There are only two items on the list:
1) Awesome knives
2) A shaved ice machine
OK so the first one is pretty common and not that impressive, but it’s important to me. The second, however, is slightly off the beaten path. You might be asking yourself what grown adult would actually want a shaved ice machine. However, after you asked yourself that rhetorical question and maybe even thought about it a little you — you most certainly realized that having a shaved ice machine would be awesome.
Tell me a time when having a shaved ice machine lying around the house wouldn’t be great. Oh you want something to drink, house guest? How about if I make you that drink, but it’s frozen. Who says no to that?