I was recalling Papa Schmidt's last visit the other day and how he seemed to always get a bit frustrated with me whenever he asked me to explain something about American culture that he didn't really know a lot about.
"The way you explain things is much too complicated. You get into too many unnecessary details, when all I wanted was a simple answer."
If you regularly read my blog, you know this is oh so very true. I could never have a blog like Toby's Gib mir 3 1/2 Minuten (Give me 3 1/2 Minutes), wherein he attempts (and, more often than not, succeeds in) composing coherent entries within a self-imposed 3 1/2 minute time limit. I've always enjoyed his writing style, but sadly, I find myself unable to reproduce it.
I think this is because I'm too interested in the premise and set up of an event, rather than the end result. My thought process is completely retarded, but for some reason when I'm re-telling or writing about a situation -- the best part (for me) is how we got to the point and not the actual point at all. Always keep that in mind.
I love a good set up, but it pretty much guarantees that my posts will never be brief.
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Awhile back, Schmidt and I were DJing a dorm party at RLH. We always have pretty interesting conversations on the (inevitable) long walk home. This particular time, Schmidt was like:
"Hey, someone dropped about 4€ into one of the toilets. They probably did it on purpose to see if some idiot would actually stick their hand into the toilet to get it."
I thought it was a pretty unfunny idea for a practical joke. I tried to explain why, but Schmidt just accused me of wanting to stick my hand down a toilet for 4€.
For the record, I wouldn't. Seriously, I wouldn't.
But prank-wise, it would be pretty unfulfilling. First of all, it's a student party, i.e. lots of drunk, broke people in a room. The beer costs 1€...that's four beers, dude. Eventually, someone is gonna do the math and go for it. Sure, it's amusing to think about, but after you've literally flushed 4€ down the toilet, what kind of loser is gonna stand in the bathroom all night...just to catch another loser with his/her hand in a toilet bowl?! You don't know when it's gonna happen and in the meantime you probably could have finished four beers. That's a lot of time and effort to invest for just the mere possibility of being able to call someone Stinky McShitpalm for the rest of the night.
Instead, it'd be much better to buy a pack of cigarettes for 3.50€. Then, you open this pack of cigarettes and suck on the end of each one before you put them back in the pack. Then, leave them on some counter and sit back and watch people come by and go, "Hey, unattended cigarettes! I think I shall smoke one."
At this point, I should mention that this little joke is contingent on you somehow contracting oral herpes beforehand. Good comedy is not without its sacrifices.
Stinky McShitpalm = 1 night
Oral herpes = forever
Another good idea is to invite some friends over to hang out and drink beer on a stoop.
But you gotta find one where there's like a bum catching some zzz's in a sleeping bag. Then, you can laugh and sing -- maybe even bust out your boombox and have some poppin' and lockin' funtime. And then, when the bum gets roused out of his slumber and goes, "Jesus! I'm trying to sleep here. Don't you guys have a home to go to?"
You can be like, "Yeah, we do."
Then don't say anything at all...just let it sink in and start walking away while doing The Robot.
Lastly, a recent trip to IKEA planted a delightful little idea in my head.
Now...I absolutely cannot fucking stand going to IKEA. It's always gotta be some kind of event. You can't just stroll in, get what you want and stroll out. You need all sorts of maps and GPS and shit and all you want is a damn shower curtain (to match the other one that you already have, of course.) And even if you just want that one thing, you have to walk by a bunch of other crap...and inevitably you pause to look and think, "Well, gee...I dunno, maybe I need this other junk too?" Pretty soon, you've been there for a couple of hours and you still haven't figured out where they have the shower curtains.
I was telling Schmidt about my nightmare trip to IKEA and said, "You know, pretty much the only thing that you can do at IKEA that doesn't take fucking forever is get that 1.50€ hot dog and drink meal. That's all right up at the front of the store."
It's a pretty good deal for a meal. Even if you were to add in a second hot dog, that'd only be 1€ extra. Plus...free refills on your drink. Free refills, I say!
So, we've decided to make an actual for real event out of it. We'll get all dressed up (he'll wear a suit, I'll wear a skirt or dress of some sort) and we'll go for a lovely hot dog dinner at IKEA.
Because we are nothing, if not the two most decadent mofos ever...
Feel free to come and participate with us, because the idea of a bunch of people rollin up on IKEA in their Sunday best for the explicit purpose of eating some hot dogs is pretty much the greatest vision I could ever imagine. I wish I could have done this for my prom, yo.
Now, all that said, I would like to refer you all to an article from last year that I happened to find today.
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