| The Time I Bought Girl Scout Cookies |
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| 5/25/08 - About three years ago I was living in a house in Pleasant Hill with my brother (co-author of Men Like Bars and the fart champion) and a friend whom I will call the Mexican. This house can best be described as a shit hole man pad. I imagine most man pads are shit holes, but when you say “man pad” you think of some Hollywood version where the carpets are clean, there is a stripper pole in the living room, and the kitchen is as clean as the sluts the actor has sex with. Our place was nothing like this of course. We had bought the place to fix it up and sell it. The coffee table was just as likely to have fast food wrappers, as it was a power tool, nails, a spitter, and a half-eaten donut. There were two couches in the living room and another by the kitchen, all with urine stained cushions that had been flipped over multiple times. It was on a random Saturday night that a married friend from down the street, Evan, and some high school buddies came over. This group and myself proceeded to get shit-faced. I blacked out, but I am told at some point my buddy Mike mentioned he liked Genova sandwiches (pronounced Jen-a-wa). I agreed, and since I like to chant a mantra when I get really drunk, I spent the rest of the night singing/chanting: “Jeeeenaaaaaawaaaaaaaaa, jeeeeeenaaaaaawaaaaaa, jeeeeennnnaaaaawaaaaa!” Apparently everyone picked up on this and merely had to ask me a simple question like: “Who makes your favorite sandwiches?” Which would set me off on another 5 minute chant of jeeeeeennnnaaaaaawaaaaaaaa. This is strange for regular people, but even more so for me because I know the best sandwich is the hot pastrami at Togos. I guess “Toooooogoooooos!” wasn't has fun to chant as Genova. Sunday morning I woke up with a pretty good hangover. I did the usually hangover routine: took a piss, drank some water, and took some ibuprofen. I always wash my hands after pissing, but I guess I never bothered to look in the mirror (this is important for later). Mirrors are for chicks and metrosexuals. Mike was sleeping on one of the couches, and after hanging out for a little while, he asked for a ride home. I gave him one, but at no point did he look at me and laugh. After dropping Mike off, I decided to go to Albertson’s and get some hangover medicine. As I walked in, I passed a Milf. I looked at her once; she met my look and smiled. I looked away, wondering if she really was smiling at me. I looked back and she gave me another smile. I got a burst of confidence. Was I really that good looking that this Milf was checking me out? I grabbed some Gatorade and made my way to the chip isle with a little more spring in my step. Along the way I walked by a good-looking girl about my age. We made eye contact and she smiled. I even looked back after we walked passed each other, and she was looking back at me with a big smile on her face. I began to wonder, was I really better looking than I thought I was? Perhaps chicks really liked buff guys that were 5’6” and had the voice of a duck. I bought the Gatorade and Funjons and got a slightly weird look from the checkout girl. The checkout girl was a little heavy, so I merely dismissed the look: whatever you load, you might not dig me but two hot chicks were checking me out earlier. As I exited the store, I was in a great mood, basking in my newfound knowledge that good-looking broads cannot take their eyes off me. Being in a good mood and feeling especially thankful to the feminine gender, I stopped to buy some cookies from the Girl Scouts that were selling them outside Albertsons. As I bought a couple boxes of mint chocolate cookies, the two Girl Scouts looked at me like they were scared of me. In addition, the mom looked at me like I was a freak. Again, I dismissed their looks: You may think my disheveled appearance is unattractive, but some women, especially hot ones, find this look irresistible. As I got back in the car, I adjusted my rear view mirror a little, and caught a glimpse of myself. Have you ever had a moment where you had no idea why something happened, then suddenly figured out why? I have, it was the moment I looked in my rearview mirror and saw that my friends had drew penises all over my face. There was a long penis across my forehead, one on each side of my cheek leading straight to my mouth, and another penis artistically drawn on my chin. In short, there is no way anybody could look at me and not see that there were penises on my face. Once I realized what my friends had done, and what I had done with these peni all over my face, I was mad. Five seconds later, I thought it was pretty funny. By the time I called my buddy Mike and told him what I had just done, I thought it was great. Think about it, after war-painting your friend, can you think of any better result than him not noticing it and going out in public and buying Girl Scout cookies. |
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