I know I promised only to wake you when something groundbreakingly excited happened. This my friends, is monumental. Not only did the ground break, but it spewed out a whole big gob of “Hooray’s,” and, “Yipee’s.” I think I even saw a few ‘Jazz Hands.’ Damn. So I hope you’re up and sitting down. ‘Cause Ho-Lee-Cow.
Ghetto.
One Half Shifty.
Seems trivial, I know. But here, we place value on different luxuries. Like running water. Or a 5$ Coke. And while that may still make you better than the French, you can walk even taller knowing that I no longer go into the office looking like I slept in my suit. Walk tall. American. With your water purifying systems and your ironing boards. Yuppies.
So how does one celebrate an event that rivals that of man landing on the moon, or France standing up for itself? Of course. Hit up iTunes and download a Michael Jackson album.
Number Ones.
For the last three days, I’ve been finding myself calling people ‘Annie,’ and asking them if they’re ‘OK.’ If they’re OK. After throwin’ down a confused, albeit condescending look my way, I grab my junk, tell them to, “Beat It,” and moonwalk my ass out the room.
But guess who looks sharper than shit doing it?
I’d stay for dinner, but I’m gonna go roll around neked on my new couch. And when I’m done, I’m gonna go roll around on my new dinning room table.
Ghetto.
One Half Shifty.
Seems trivial, I know. But here, we place value on different luxuries. Like running water. Or a 5$ Coke. And while that may still make you better than the French, you can walk even taller knowing that I no longer go into the office looking like I slept in my suit. Walk tall. American. With your water purifying systems and your ironing boards. Yuppies.
So how does one celebrate an event that rivals that of man landing on the moon, or France standing up for itself? Of course. Hit up iTunes and download a Michael Jackson album.
Number Ones.
For the last three days, I’ve been finding myself calling people ‘Annie,’ and asking them if they’re ‘OK.’ If they’re OK. After throwin’ down a confused, albeit condescending look my way, I grab my junk, tell them to, “Beat It,” and moonwalk my ass out the room.
But guess who looks sharper than shit doing it?
I’d stay for dinner, but I’m gonna go roll around neked on my new couch. And when I’m done, I’m gonna go roll around on my new dinning room table.
