Monkey Proctologist

*Note from Dave:  Entry title was an actually observed event.  I swear.  No embellishing here.  Well, not on that, anyway.

Whatever.  I’ll explain that one later.

To begin proper, let me first say I’m exhausted.  I blame no one but myself (well, maybe a few others, too….just because I’m an asshole).  I tried going to bed at about 10pm (three hours ago), but that was a failure on par with Carl Denham’s Kong show.  So here I sit.  At least I have stories to tell.  Sort of.

Thursday night, I went with Jason and Jenny to Moe’s, their favorite bar (and NO, I’m not making that up…..and would you believe I didn’t even think of how hilarious that is until just now?!  ridiculous).  We all got quite schnockered.  Beers and Jager-bombs all around.  We spent our last, like, two hours there talking to this Turkish guy Jenny started talking to for absolutely no reason (other than being thrashed).  I couldn’t tell you his name, but him and Jason talked about soccer for most of the conversation.  Jason loves soccer more than anyone I know….more than I love…well….Godzilla movies, I guess.  Yeah, that much.  I love it and all, but I won’t watch just any old game like he does.

Anyway, after sleeping for around three hours that night, I was awakened from my post on the couch by the running footsteps upstairs of Arianna (Jason’s fiancee’s 3 year old).  And let me tell you, that girl is equal parts hilarious, annoying, intelligent, and aged beyond her years.  It’s weird.  In her eyes, she sometimes looked like she was damn near 30.  It was really strange.  Hard to explain.  Anyway.  Friday afternoon, we trekked the whole family (that would be 8 of us) to the Toledo Zoo.  My mom wanted to go more than anyone except Arianna.  I was just in it to observe the various forms of bipedal humanoid creatures:  people, chimps, kids, monkeys, etc.  The gorillas were chasing each other around, putting on quite a good show.  But there were two little monkeys who had appeared to set up a proctological office on a log.  We all cracked up as two of the monkeys literally poked, prodded, looked around on/in two other monkeys’ asses.  It was one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever seen.  I wish I’d taken pictures.  Better yet, I wish I’d video taped it.  Highlight of the day, no contest.  But who was the last person to walk away from this show?  Why Arianna, of course.  Somehow, the sight of adults and twenty-somethings walking away from such a hilarious sight before the three year old makes it even funnier.  If anyone figures out why, let me know.  Because I’m clueless.

That night, Jason and Brittany had a cookout at their house.  Jason, Jenny, myself, and Dan (Jenny’s boyfriend) went through 55 of the 60 beers we bought.  Jason was the only one who didn’t hold it all down, which was shocking.  I figured it’d be me (again, just like Columbus in November), but I was fine.  Jason somehow pulled a ninja-puking, though.  He only made it as far as the kitchen garbage can, but I didn’t hear a thing.  And I should’ve heard everything….even just something so small as the puke hitting the trash.  But nothing.  Like I said, ninja-puking.  Also hilarious.

Now Playing in Dave’s Mental Jukebox:  "Metalingus" by Alter Bridge, "Quote" by Evans Blue, and "The Lord is My Weapon" by Otep

My Stanley Cup Finals prediction could be closer than I ever could’ve thought (pending Buffalo/Carolina Game 7 on Thursday).  I said Buffalo vs. Calgary from the start of the playoffs.  If Buffalo makes it in, I couldn’t come much closer without being perfect.  All I’ll have done wrong is pick the wrong team from Alberta.  Not bad.  Then again, I could be forced to watch Carolina win, and that would suck.  Buffalo vs. Edmonton would be such a great series.  Maybe I should go into NHL prognostication.  Two years ago (y’know, the last time there was a season), I picked the Finals perfectly at the start of the playoffs (Tampa Bay vs. Calgary).  At least I’m good at picking one sport.  But that’s about the only one.

I’m gonna squeeze in a viewing of X-Men 3 sometime this week.  I’m very hopeful, yet incredibly terrified all at once.  I hope it’s good, but I fear it’s garbage, basically.

There’s no possible way I’m going to be on-time for work tomorrow.  I’ll be lucky to be less than an hour late at this rate.

I watched a thing on TV last night (well, part of it anyway) ranking the 100 Funniest Movies of All Time (because "All Time" for movies is sooooooo long).  Well, there came a point where I just had to refuse to keep watching.  Why?  Because National Lampoon’s Vacation was ranked number 51.  What the fuck!?  No way there are 50 funnier movies.  When I really lost it was at #47…..The Incredibles.  Yeah, it was a good movie, but funnier than Vacation?  Fuck, no!  Any list of funny movies that doesn’t have Vacation, Ghostbusters, Fletch, and The Big Lebowski in the top 10 is worthless.  The End.  Though I do wonder what was in the top 10 of that list.  One way to find out…….  Wow.  Worst.  List.  EVER.  Revenge of the Nerds is 91.  Ghostbusters is 71.  Lebowski is 31.  Meet the GOD DAMN Fockers is 25.  The Wedding Singer is #7…..WHAT?!  Animal House was #1, by the way.  I personally hated that movie, but most people find it hilarious, so I can understand.  Pardon me as I go kill myself and several others now.  Horrible, horrible list.  Unspeakably horrible.

Eleven more days until World Cup 2006 kicks off.

It’s funny how things go in shifts for me.  For instance:  I haven’t watched a DVD in like three weeks.  Until today, I didn’t fire up my X-Box, PS2, or Gamecube for almost two weeks.  But I’ve been listening to music like mad.  And futzing about on this infernal machine more than I had in the last four months put together.  I barely watch TV anymore, either.  And I’m back to hating being around people again.  Even at work, where it’s been a long time since the last time that happened.  I’m just getting annoyed by people again.  In general, I mean.  Maybe it comes from constantly being around them all weekend long.  Perhaps that’s it.  I’m cranky because I haven’t had time alone (well, until the last eight hours) since last Tuesday.  Yeah, I bet that’s it.  Now to just sit back and wait for the positive mood to roll right back in.  Anytime now.

Anytime.

Okay, so maybe not.  Or maybe I’m too tired to give a flying flip of a fuck.  Or maybe I don’t know a flying flip of a fuck from my nose right now.  Or maybe I should just shut up and give sleeping another go.

Winner!

Sayonara.