Yeah, Kid Funk was supposed to be all over this, but his computer broke. HOW his computer broke is quite lame, but also quite hilarious, and I’ll let him tell you about it if he so chooses. Suffice it to say, HD antennas are stupid.
So anyway, I’m sitting here wondering what I can post about. I’ve been trying to work on that novel, and I’m about 6500 words into it. So far, it’s longer than anything I’ve ever written, which technically makes it a novel already. Who needs 50k words?
I have a short Conversation with Kid Funk though, and I think you might like it. For those of you who are new here, and who may or may not have time to read all these archives, Kid Funk is my bestie. We’re together in all kinds of weather, and we’re not gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. (Ed. What is that? Is that a soapbox? I swear to all that is holy and pure I will leave you in the car next time! Put it away!) Anygay…way. Anyway. Anyway, he and I frequently have these incredibly funny conversations. Most of the time funny to us. Sometimes they are funny to others. I guess that’s up to you. Here goes:
KF: I told him yesterday that I might do something Friday, and he said, “Cool, what are you doing tonight?” I say, “Nothing, I have a meeting.” He says, “What about after that?” I say, “Nothing.” He says, “So you want to kick it?” I said, “Nope, I’m tired, worked a 10 hour today.” He says, “You don’t have to open.” It’s like he’s trying to have sex with me or something.
Me: I’d watch out.
KF: He bribed me up with dinner last night. But on the real, he asked for your number and I gave it to him.
Me: What in the world would make him think I would ever want to do anything with him? And yeah, I’ve got his number from back when he was cool for those 2 Sundays.
KF: Oh I don’t know why he wants it. That was the first text I got from him this morning. “What’s Travis’ number?”
KF: Yep. BFF4E&2
Me: You know how I know you’re gay?
KF: Because I’m trying to get the guy that wants to do it with me to do it with you instead?
Me: Because you typed BFF4E&E, and probably knew what it meant.
KF: Hey, I typed BFF4E&2. One, I got it wrong, twice. Two, you understood it and it was wrong. It’s best friend for ever and ever.
Me: Are we gonna have sex or what?
KF: You wanna know how I know you’re gay?
So yeah, just a brief little peek into our world of chatting. Speaking of, I’ve started chatting with a few of you on various messengers, and it’s quite fun. If any of you have a BlackBerry with a data plan, or have a GChat handle, be sure to look me up. You can ask anyone, I’m always pretty quick to reply. Ed and Adrienzgirl both have had some times where I didn’t reply right away and it almost caused some problems, but it’s all good.
Which brings me to another tangent. YOU CANNOT OFFEND ME. In all seriousness, folks, I am just about unoffendable. Hell yes I just made that word up. And hell yes, you can use it. But yeah, if you say something to me that you think is funny but might hit me below my profusely sagging belt, and I don’t reply to you right away, I’m either asleep or busy. Never just real busy. But busy. I don’t want anyone to worry about me getting mad and throwing a hissy fit because you said most fat people are ugly and can’t read good. I really would prefer it if you didn’t make fun of Jesus so much, because, well, my hypocrisy can extend only so far. But yeah.
Also, what’s up with kids having bad family lives? I’d like to seriously address that for a moment. I work at a school, and I see some things. Some of the things I see are frickin funny, and some of them make me want to find a parent, no matter where they are, and shake them until their brains leak out of their freaking nose. Do they realize the problems that they are giving their kids? No, I don’t think they do, because they’re more worried about what channel Springer got moved to, and whether or not adding a half cup more Draino will produce a cut of meth that’s worth a little more. These kinds of parents make me sick. Why the hell do my wife and I try for 5 years to have a kid, and we can’t, but Donna and Earl Crackpipe up the road can have 43 at a time to send to child services? Pisses me smooth the hell off.
Can you tell I’m just typing stuff that comes to mind? Hell, you’re probably almost through with you lunch break, and you’ve got other blogs to read. That’s my bad. I guess I can let you all go now. This is the kind of thing that happens when I’ve got my mind in about a billion and a half places, my phone is going off, The Missus is asking me if we can please start watching The Office yet, and I’ve left my GD flash drive that has my novel on it at the school stuck in a laptop that anyone can get a hold of and write 2 chapters with nothing but the word “The” in it.
I should probably quit this. It’s Thursday night, not even Friday. You know what? I’m gonna commit the bloggers biggest comment killing mistake. I think I’m just gonna post this now, and give you guys a better blog tomorrow. Something you deserve. I’m not even gonna change the title. This is it, just going up like this. I’m not even gonna finish i….