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TODAYS BLOG LESSON: Always proof-read carefully to see if you any words out.
I had a dream that I was an inventor. I made a fancy metallic box that you could hear tiny parts shake when you picked it up, but I couldn't remember what it does? The story continued and the plot unfolded with the main characters overcoming adversity and finding true love. Then after the climax, when the villain was defeated and they lived happily ever after, the main character came up to me and said, "So what does that box really do?" I shrugged my shoulder. The leading lady couldn't take the mystery and pressed the button. Suddenly I was transformed into a movie theater and the screen had a picture of the girl pressing the button, then a wipe dissolve that sucked us all into oblivion. Apparently, I was a movie character inventor and the button sucked the movie up to lead to the ending credits. Neat, huh?
This was a movie weekend because my little sister Sonali (Molly) Gupta and cousin Shipra Gupta came to visit. First though we needed to eat. Someone needs to tell my family that Food' alone is not the correct answer to the question what do you want to eat. Luckily Shipra Gupta got a hold of her friend who made the decision to go to the Corner Room for us. The Corner Room is a fine establishment but I find myself making funny faces at the people dinning from the College Ave Window much more often then I actually go there to eat. My friend Sean would claim I don't go there because it reminds me of my adolescent naivety. Apparently one of his friends thought I was hilarious and even tried to give me her number to meet for breakfast the next day, but I didn't pick up any of the cues and told her to give the number to Sean to call. I protest this thought though because I frequented the Corner room for all you can eat pasta the next year.
My favorite thing about the Corner Room is the etch-a-sketch's you can get while you're waiting. We had fun time drawing each other as you can see in the pics collection. Shipra Gupta apparently loves the Corner Room for its Turkey. Outside of Turkey Day, it can be hard to find quality Turkey. Shipra Gupta's friend though had the best idea. He came with free coupons for ice cream so I was immediately a fan.
After dinner, we decided to the simplest thing for fun and rent a movie. Unfortunately there is only one Princess Bride, a movie that everyone loves because it is the best. Due to this fact the arduous task of picking a movie haunted us. There must be a solution to this problem that is fun and effective. Of course it would take a genius to figure it out. I am that genius, and the answer is simple. Everyone goes around a select a movie. If two people like the same movie they can pick a filler movie to represent that movie. Then the movies battle by a coin flip and a winner is declared. Unfortunately they shot down the Weeping Camel movie but we ended with a winner.
The next day we went to Shipra Gupta's favorite restaurant, Green Bowl. All you can eat and dim sum--hehe. You'd think that since it has green in the name it'd be my favorite restaurant, and I do like it because it is create your own stir-fry, but Nicole Myers claimed she didn't like. Of course in practice when I told her to add peanut sauce to whatever she chooses, she ended up with a meal she liked. My favorite combination is peanut, spicy Thai, and spicy hot sauces. mmmm.
I know sleep is a completely inadequate substitute for caffeine, but I feel like a bicycle, two-tired. Ouch, that was a bad one. Thusly a perfect place to end.
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Anshu Gupta
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"All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you want to look. I fuck like you want to fuck. I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways you're not."
I haven't blogged in ages until I received the advice of a veteran journal keeper. ~Writing isn't hard; you just have to pretend you're an infinite number of monkeys.~ My problem is that I set such a fabulous standard to live up to, not even a room full of Shakespeares could compete. I feel like I can't out do myself. I can't contend with my own greatness of just a week ago. The most gruesome of thoughts is to have my level of story diminish in any way. I am a hilarious personality in person, if you add the jokes I can steal from the Internet, I become a superhero caliber unstoppable tour de force of folly. I mean my blog isn't better than sex, but sliced bread is in serious trouble.
Speaking of sex, that is what today's blog is all about. Not just sex, but sexcapades you can only find in quality Made In America porn. Ultimately, paying for porn seems odd to me though it is a billion dollar industry. The loss of ones hard earned money for pork makes it appear that you're being screwed while everybody else is getting laid. Still, a man, it's hard to knock sex. It is no coincidence that beaver and beautiful are on the same page of the dictionary. Also, some of our sheltered gal pals have never seen a porn, so I felt almost obligated to educate them, and quickly. Thusly, Pizza and Porn night was conceived in the maniacal brains of MattyMat Shelak, James Stewart and Anthony Scardino. I think it was James Stewart who picked up the first porn on Bourbon Street during their Spring break. It was aptly named "Sin City's 'fuck me harder'"….and the legend was born!!
I don't care what people say. I think porn stars are special. A little bit of plastic, a little powder, a little bit of paint, makes a girl seem what she ain't. Sex without love is an empty experience, but as empty experiences go it's a pretty good one. My liberal thoughts on people who make porn can be summed up by a famous quote attributed to Sir Elton John, "I think people should be free to engage in any sexual practices they choose; they should draw the line at goats though." As for those who condemn the industry, I always think about Simpson's creator Matt Groening who wrote, "When the authorities warn you of the dangers of having sex, there is an important lesson to be learned. Do not have sex with the authorities."
Ha-ha, funny stuff right? But think about it. How much would it take for you to be a porn star? Every man has his price. Mine is $3.95, the price of a bag of Doritos which is my crack. I know what you're probably thinking. Sure you can make a lot of money from the billion dollar porn industry but will you be happy? Money can't buy happiness, but poverty can't buy ANYTHING. Personally, I think I was desensitized by nudity as an early child because I was introduced to the art world where sex and nudity were just an expression of being and not some puritan thing of evil. Because of this, a naked body isn't really a big deal to me as much as a connection with a person and the actual tactile sensation of touching or kissing. Instead it was always just a goofy joke.
For instance, I remembered an impressionable younger me listening to a tour guide at the mattress factory museum in Pittsburgh telling me about the artist who was exhibiting that day. He left his wife and mistress for a cave and lived there for 5 months without even telling his son. The gallery thought the artist was dead, gone mad, or ran away until suddenly he returned with a few scraps of a paper, chicken scratch mostly, which represented what he wanted to show. After a few more months in his studio, he was ready to present what I was in awe off standing in that tiny museum. It was rooms of different shapes and colors and light with random TV and erotic videos, all of which brought you a difference intense sensation of warmth, lust, or a feeling of awakening. Then at the end of the exhibit, the secret was reveled. You were actually walking through a giant uterus, each room a different section leading to the egg! Of course this led to us saying what we'd do to portray the uterus. I said I'd make a water slide because "A vagina is kinda like one of those tube water slides... its hot and wet inside and every so often a kid shoots out". Oddly enough when I was older the same artist did a reprise of the showing at I got to see his renewed more sophisticated approach to the subject.
ANYwho, back to Pizza and Porn. The first showing of Fuck Me Harder was a limp flop. It was typical porn, left nothing up to the imagination but the plot. In fact, there was no plot whatsoever. It was just sex scene after sex scene with all the charm of a spasm of the bowel. Over viewing of this cinematic monstrosity could turn the finest Hari Krishna into a bad boy. Usually my liberal optimism can find something redeeming about anything I watch, but I was at a loss.
First of all the problems in the porn were the quality of the ladies, -these were very ugly broken down, used chicks. I'm not ripping on ugly girls in general. I mean an ugly girl once gave me directions when I was lost. And some of my friends have dated ugly chicks with good personalities. The least classy of our group would call them butter faces. Nice body, but her face... --Or just mopeds, fun until your friends catch you riding them. Anywho, the point of this tirade was to explain the women were not attractive and the men were even worse.
Next, came the music. Usually you can get a lesson in funk or contemporary jazz when listening to the background music of porn, but this first porn didn't even had that. It just had the hardcore grunts, which if you're not looking sounds like someone using a sick bag on a 747. The lightening, the props, the background were all abysmal and nobody could argue after a while. Finally we turned it off.
Oh no! We declared an emergency state and demanded a porn run. Amy Kaucher desperately IMed all of her friends saying "I NEED PORN". I can only imagine what responses she got from people the next day who had away messages. Thankfully, Amy Kaucher finally got a hold of someone who she could rendezvous with her at McDonalds with some watchable porn. Anthony Scardino went with her on the special opt and we awaited them with baited breath.
Quick: What's the speed limit of sex?
Answer: 68; at 69 you have to turn around.
Somehow in their absence we got into a conversation about size. If a girl ever tells you size matters, it's a test. Don't get hokey and say it is motion in the ocean or overcompensate by insinuating that you're hung like a horse. You'll come off insecure. The correct response is to reframe, 'You know what? I'm so glad you can admit that size maters. Big breasts are important.' Then, if you get any flack, act indignant and say "I'm not a breast man, I'm a breast person."
Anywho, I poured myself an OBD (Occasional Bitch Drink) and was chillaxing until Amy Kaucher and Anthony Scardino came back sharing a brain. Anthony Scardino didn't look like himself when he returned. I noticed the improvement immediately. Some say he's tall, dark and handsome; others say tall, and in the dark, handsome; or was it tall dark and all greasy hands? In any case, we always seem to catch Anthony Scardino in gay moments, and holding a porn is about the most hetero thing I've seem him do. I was so proud. Because of that he looked different--ha-ha.
Now the other person in the picture above is our heroin, Amy Kaucher, looking about as innocent as a nun doing press ups in a cucumber field. I quickly made her pose for the pick with the porns. Then I asked about the guy whose porn we were using, adding that I was surprised she wasn't holding it with gloves on. Lots of people were a little scared when Amy Kaucher said how much porn the guy she bored the tape had. If I were him I'd shirk that insult off and just say. "Don't tease me about my hobbies. I don't tease you about being an asshole." Then again, I think that's a great response for most situations.
As for the two porns Amy Kaucher selected, nothing could be worse than Fuck Me Harder. The first was "Barely legal 'coy cuties born to be bad'. At first I misread the label and thought it said "cow cuties, born to be bad'. I became apprehensive that we were going to be watching Amy Kaucher's home videos. Instead she came up to me and showed me the back cover inquiring if I recognized one of the girls. From the neck up, Amy Kaucher claimed one of the stars of the porn looked like Nicole Myers.
That night, I took pictures of it and sent it to a friend Charlie who I thought would appropriate the comment because one of his ex-girlfriends from high school became a stripper. The next day Charlie gave me the funniest email response. "Is Amy Kaucher foreign or something and all white girls look the same to her? As a future FBI guy, I can unequivocally say that this girl looks nothing like Nicole Myers, but to be sure you should send me a picture of her to properly compare. In any case, I can also unequivocally say this Amy Kaucher girl obviously wants a threesome with you and Nicole Myers. Please follow your instincts and send back pics"
Of course, I channeled Jerry from Seinfeld replying "I can't do the orgy. I'd have to dress different. I'd have to act different. I'd have to grow a moustache and get all kinds of robes and lotions and I'd need a new bedspread and new curtains I'd have to get thick carpeting and weirdo lighting. I'd have to get new friends. I'd have to get orgy friends. ... Naw, I'm not ready for it. "
Luckily for us, "Barely legal 'coy cuties born to be bad' was of much higher quality than fuck me harder. Inside there were several quick stories of young girls getting it on. Unfortunately there seemed to be an odd obsessive theme running through several of the stories where the girls felt obliged to urinate. "I had two things on my mind. One I needed to pee, two I needed a man"...then she'd get it on with the stable boy or the artist or whoever and Mount Vesuvius would exploded all over her face, belly, whatever. The low point of course was the one outdoor scene where you could see flies trying to get in on the action. Overall, we got the joy of laughing and mocking all of it.
The next porn was "Asian fever" which meant teasing MattyMat Shelak and Alice Ou a lot. One of the quality moments I captured on film looked like MattyMat Shelak giving birth to Alice Ou. Asian fever wasn't as hot as you'd think. It is lack of plot left us wanted more so we created it
I'm not quiet sure how the transition was made. If you asked Amy Kaucher if she'd ever do a porn she'd probably say, "Sure, I'll do that when... - oink flap oink flap - well I'll be darned!" Anthony Scardino took the initiative to cast Amy Kaucher in his first faux porn. Anthony Scardino played the role of the girl and Amy Kaucher was the guy. There were both supposed to mimic was being played on the TV.
With my paparazzi camera in hand, I became the director and quickly learned a new appreciation for the industry. It's really hard to make something look good, especially when you had the low caliber of actors. Zack and MattyMat Shelak were good guest directors showing me an angle where it actually looked like the two were getting it on if you mentally got rid of the clothes.
Overall, Anthony Scardino was Abercrombie fierce, a fabulous actor unleashed. He was playing the girl so we weren't too shocked that he could play the part well-ha-ha. Amy Kaucher on the other hand was a dismal cloud of giggles. At one point Anthony Scardino got frustrated. He pointed to the sex scene on the TV they were mimicking and said, "He's humping, you need to hump." Amy Kaucher erupted, "I'm not humping." --Soon, as in real life it was over. Amy Kaucher came too quickly.
Since it was such a success we decided to make it a tradition. Not Amy Kaucher and Anthony Scardino porn, but just getting together every week and watching a movie. From the low point of porn you'd think the movie choice couldn't get worse, but you'd be surprised. Still some greasy pizza, some great memories and greater friends mixed together.
This blog was dedicated to all you virgins, thanks for nothing. Remember, we got it easy...we ought to take it easy.
Your Personal Hero
THE BAbbLER
pchewy
Anshu Gupta
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It is spring break for the college kids now and it is still cold. Granted there have been blizzards during PSU's spring break before and there is no snow now, but I find no solace in that thought as I dream of burning my winter coat. I hate the cold. The football season is long over so I see no reason for the cold. All the kids are gone for spring break. Did I mention that I hate the cold? Yes I know, hate is a strong word. In fact I hate the word hate almost as much as I hate pessimistic haters, but today I hate cold more. In fact, I hate the cold so much I refused to eat the York Peppermint Patties my coworker offered me for free on sheer principle.
Luckily I was able to leave work early and had a fun weekend to speak of. I have just returned from Annapolis Maryland. It is the only thing to do if you find yourself down there, return (get it?? If not, try reading that line again). ANYwho, Annapolis is a trendy shopping town outlined by a pretty bay overrun with navy brats. Overall I'd call it a pompous Milwaukee, but I find myself visiting because that is where the new house of Mikeypooh Shelak resides.
Mikeypooh Shelak's place is a quality fixer-upper. I won't call him an old man for buying it yet. I think you've turned into your dad the day you put aside a thin piece of wood specifically to stir paint with. I didn't find any wood strips in site so I'll give Mikeypooh Shelak the devil's benefit of the doubt. What I did find was a big hole in the basement. Well, technically Nicole Myers found it when I chased her into it. Luckily she did not sprain anything except my chest from laughter. Why is it that when you are walking up the stairs and you get to the top you always thinks there is still one more step and you stumble? That's the only analogy I can draw to portray the look on Nicole Myers's fleeing face.
Nicole Myers and I were in a heated battle of tossing six darts at a time and trying to get them all to hit the dartboard that led to the completive atmosphere and the chase. You'd think Nicole Myers would have learned to stay away from Mikeypooh Shelak's dart. At his old place that he rented which was in walking distance of a water taxi, I threw one of Mikeypooh Shelak's darts a good 18 feet. Bull-eye, or more appropriately, Nicole Myers's ass is where it landed with a high arch giving her much time to roll out of the way. Poor girl didn't think it was actually going to throw even though I practiced the throwing motion like a QB pump-fakes before throwing the precision bomb....and years later she's learned little, lament. It may be that her sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others who dare to play chicken with me.
So in retrospect the greatness of Mikeypooh Shelak's place is proportional to him having a Jacuzzi. I got to enjoy it with MattyMat Shelak and his friends returning from their spring break trip to New Orleans. Of course this meant Zack had to whip out his Speedos. That kid is hung like a horse. They don't hardly make 'em like him any more - but just to be on the safe side, he should be castrated anyway. Most of the lame ones preferred a quick nap to the Jacuzzi, but soon we were all hungry and headed to town for some Japanese food.
You knew the Japanese place was authentic when you saw the lucky Kitty bobble-hand waving at you. You can tell the class of the establishment when they bring you cups and fill them with a can of pop right in front of you. Oh yeah, did I mention that the coke Anthony Scardino got was a limited New Years edition can from 2 years ago. Aged bourbon he probably thought he was going to get on his spring break, but he didn't know he was going to get aged coke too. Still who are we to complain about classiness of an establishment? Surely James Stewart who was making a penis out of his napkin wasn't going fuss.
Overall the eats were okay. You know my motto: Eat drink and be merry for tomorrow you diet. Though the Japanese was nothing compared to the other place we went to for breakfast the next day, mmm eggs benedict. The only thing that could be better than that breakfast is a banana, some chocolate syrup, and thou (DISCLAIMER: Change thou to Christina Rucha if you are a guy or girl who isn't young, playful, beautiful and brave of heart.)
Anywho, the real heart-pounding excitement of the weekend lied in the windfall of fortune luck that we were graced with. We were lucky to find parking. MattyMat Shelak was lucky that I found his sunglasses on the ground on our way back. But mostly we were lucky we survived. Mikeypooh Shelak probably enjoyed watching speed racer as a kid, but some things don't stick. He drives as well as he dances, and he dances like a rattlesnake at a square dance. Mikeypooh Shelak's driving prowess is like a dog's walking on his hinter legs. It is not done well, but you are surprised to see it done at all. Mikeypooh Shelak was defiantly more likely a reinCARnation from a horse-centered civilization where he could get a CAReer as a samurai or something, rather than a renewed soul that was once a pioneer of locomotion.
I let Mikeypooh Shelak drive my Mitsubishi Eclipse, which admittedly has a poor u-turn radius to keep you from flipping, but is no excuse for him drifting off to the side and smashing into the curb. Then to top it off he hit his own parked car when he parked in his driveway. You should have seen the look of "I wish I was innocence" on Mikeypooh Shelak's face when he got out assessing the damage. It reminded me of that proverb, each snowflake in an avalanche pleads not guilty or of a child being caught with a match next to a burnt curtain. Of course the falling out side panel of my car was already an issue, which in retrospect was easy to fix by a professional at no cost to me. Still, it's scary when I say I'd rather give KT Shelak the keys to my car than the other two Shelaks. Maybe one day rat-cat's will be cloned with brains and trained to drive. Then I could choose the Shelak's cat Hobbs as my preferred Shelak driver.
Still we survived and had some good laughs at it. This lends to my friend's theory that God is a comedian and we are his reality TV. It is your job to amuse god with drama or laughs or he will get rid of you. What else explains the loss of so many old people? -they are so boring. On the tombstones of 96% of humans should have the epitaph, "God was bored by him."(or her). Now how or why those other 4% die I'm still debating.
Yawn...my nap made me sleepy this afternoon, how does that work?
I guess I'll bugger off and leave you with this advice for the cold.
Remember the lesson of delayed gratification as taught by Vikings before they raided the frigid Norwegian countryside. --No matter how cold you are, always remember to pillage BEFORE you burn.
Your Personal Hero
THE BAbbLER
pchewy
Anshu Gupta
http://psubabbler.esmartguy.com
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Most of my good friends have kept in touch so they already know what happened; as for the others, who cares? I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant so I will not apologize for my lack of blog. If this insult makes you feel down consider that the sun sinks every night - but rises again in the morning. Also look on the bright side. It is fall so you probably have more time to enjoy my blog.
During my hiatus I'd like to say I was busy pursuing some altruistic goal for the benefit of others. Truthfully, I did find out the answer to the second most important question ever asked. The answer to the first is obviously 42. The second answer is Art. "Art" is why the chicken crossed the road. It's art! -a chicken crossing the road is 'poultry in motion'. Personally, I think I deserve a prize for researching that question and finding the answer on the Internet. I'd kill for a Nobel Peace Prize, but I don't think you can get one of those in prison. Instead I turned my time to more intrinsic goals, rediscovering what I enjoy in life. Do you want to know what I came up with? Yup, triangle sandwiches taste better than square ones.
ANYwho, I'm told by an email tagline that a mouse trap placed gingerly on top of your alarm clock will prevent you from rolling over back to sleep when you hit the snooze button. Though I lack a trap, I do possess the mental fortitude to imagine it there, so instead of napping, I've gone back to blogging. Since it's been so long since I have blogged, now begins the arduous process of back journaling. Together, we'll see if my hindsight is 20-20 or if I need to spend $20 on gas plus $20 on tolls to drive to the happy ophthalmologist house of my cousins in New Jersey to get fitted for glasses.
Okay back to the events that go with the pics. This trip to Pittsburgh was a doozy.
After about 15 minutes getting lost and trying to find parking to my passenger's rage, we hit up our favorite bars in Shady Side, Kellies. Inside we met Matt Casebeer's kewl motorcycle buddy Sunny who told us his woeful tale of losing his wife after having three kids to her cousin (the cousin was adopted, but still they grew up like siblings--sick!!). We didn't drink much; instead Nicole Myers turned Dracula-ena on me, making faux wax blood wounds from the candles in our booth. Good ole Nicole Myers, all wax and no wick--hehe. Before we left I played that game in Europe. You know Europe right, when you're here you're in America, when you're there, your-a-peeing (European). Well in the bathroom I did what every red-blooded bloke has done when I flushed half way through the pee and then raced against the flush. I'm now told that there is a paper coned funnel designed for pregnant ladies that women allowed the ladies to pee standing up, so if you're a girl reading this don't judge until you try it yourself.
Late night in the burgh' that don't result in movie marathons often lead to reunions at dinners. Dinners are like wet cats, it is impossible to describe the smell, but there's something satisfying about it. This time Nicole Myers expressed her inner Da Vince child through half n half modern sculpture art. The waitress was so impressed that she gave her a whole handful of extra containers to enhance her masterpiece. Of course Matt Casebeer and I had more fun trying to knock it down.
Eventually, we ended up passing out at Sunny's pimping palace with the tennis court backyard. In the morning his 3 boys came over. Playing video games with kids is like trying to shoot pool with a rope. Yes I lost in Mortal Combat to a five year old and no I don't think any less of myself. It's just the progression of life I suppose. When I was five, I was the quarter boy at the arcade my dad half owned. Back then, I beat kids, teenagers, and adults alike on the air hockey table or the Frogger machine even though I need a stool to play. Thus is just the way of the world. If you grow up with machines, you'll do better than those who didn't. I laughter best though when that the same kid of Sunny's tried to claim his prize, hanging on Nicole Myers's leg not wanting to let it go.
But go we must. As with late night, the morning after breakfast often calls for dinners. This time we got to meet up with KT Shelak and crew at my old high school stomping grounds of McKnight Road. We ate and chatted and laugh at the nasty steak KT Shelak ordered. HA-ha, my veteran choice of French toast was yummy. I guess age does have its perks in some arenas.
After breakfast we actually went to the Wymans for eggs and I mused. Isn't it always the Matt Casebeer? I finally check out Dave Wyman and his wife Marielle Wyman's apartment for some tasty after breakfast eggs. Now they've gone off and bought a house. Where did I find responsible people like that? I thought my friends were mavericks who'd rather get speedy vehicles than a responsible house. Luckily for every Dave Wyman and slum lord Dicke, I have friends like Matt Casebeer. The main mission of this weekend was to get Matt Casebeer a motorcycle. Check out the pics and you can see my sweet ride.
Yup, I said MY new ride. Matt Casebeer that makes much more money than me in the hick town West Virginia, doesn't have the credit to get a motorcycle so I bought one for him with his money. Technically, I now have a bike and insurance but no license, neat huh? Of course, I had to walk into my house announcing I owned a motorcycle and make my brat little sister wear my helmet afterwards. My weary dad wasn't suckered in too much and quickly found out that I was just the middle man for Matt Casebeer's big boy bike.
At my place, my sister's boyfriend Steve came over. As a big brother you don't really want to over protect your sister from boys, but you want to send subtle messages. Therefore, I let Steve Warfield and Matt Casebeer play with my shocking tanks. (If you're unaware because you live in a non-technology bubble, these tanks are radio controlled which infrared guns and light detectors. If your tank gets hit, the control electrocutes you. Fun, right!!) Matt Casebeer got back at my shocking fun by trying to curl my eye lashes. It won't be a novel quote to say those devices echo back to our medieval past. Any sexist bastard who thinks women don't have guts, do not have to look at childbirth, they can just look at that contraption and gain some much deserve respect.
For dinner we went downtown, and yes they let my seventeen year old sister in a bar while we waited for a table. She's a goody-goody so she didn't order anything. Wait until she feels the abuse of PSU bars that won't look at her twice before denying her entrance, though I'm sure she won't have too hard of a time procuring liquids if that's her desire. You got to love the bars in non-state college. In state college my CEO gets carted at the bars, in downtown Pittsburgh my 17 year little sister eases in with no problem.
We chilled at the bar for a while until our table was called. They had one of those fancy devices that lights up and buzzes when you get called. When I approached my phone ran so I answered it, it was the hostess saying she was sorry she accidentally buzzed me. It was quite humorous because I was watching her talk to me on the phone and waving at her to just talk to me in person. It took her a while to figure out I was standing right there. Back to the bar for a bit went we before we finally got our real seats. The food was splendid mostly because their descriptions were amusing. Dave Wyman got a tower of frittered goodness.
Soon the weekend was over and we head back to Happy Valley. Now you know how I'm always up for trying new restaurants and take pleasure in choosing whatever I can't pronounce as my entree. Other than grapenuts, I pretty much eat anything readily served in a restaurant. Given this as my M.O., you'd probably be surprised I never went to a Crackle Barrel, but it just never happened. After seeing millions on my way to Florida I was happy to finally go. This monumental moment came as a break in Altoona on the way to State College from the burgh.
Now the only way to describe the people at the Crackle Barrel properly is to entered the digits 55378008 into a calculator and turn it upside-down. Count of non-white people->me. It was eerie like when I find a metal coat hanger in my closet. I'm not sure how it got there and I know it doesn't belong. Now to be fair, you won't hear me say that the "Crackle" barrel is a racial establishment but later when I went to Crackle Barrel for the second time, the only non-white group of people was exiled in the corner at the worst table by the kitchen. I pointed it out to Nicole Myers who laughter. Luckily I was in the bathroom when Nicole Myers got a table for two or we might have served a similar fate. We were defiantly the only interracial couple which is something that usually never occurs to me, but since its Nicole Myers's favorite whitey restaurants the jokes had to continue. As a disclaimer of course, I had no ill service due to my race except that they happened to be out of "pork rind" this time, at least that's what they told me.
To kill some time and celebrate that my car hit 44,444 miles (my lucky number being 4), we delayed getting home for a bit more to goof around at toys r us. Whatever your age the desire to make plastic dolls shag is almost impossible to resist. Nicole Myers took a liking to a scooter which I got a fun pick of. This of course flashed me back to my favorite Christmas with the Matt Casebeerbeer's where I got my friend Thang Dounge a pink scooter as a present. It was a bonus gift because the day before he got it, we went to the mall and Thang Dounge went into a tirade about his dad wanting to scoot-scoot around in the then ultra popular scooters. I ended up getting my sis one too that year. Maybe Nicole Myers might get hers next xmas--hehe. For now she just got some auntie Anne pretzels….(Homeric mmmmm) and then we went down the country road to Happy Valley.
May your life be like toilet paper--long and useful.
Your Personal Hero
THE BAbbLER
pchewy
Anshu Gupta
http://psubabbler.esmartguy.com
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