So, I took a little break from my general scoundrelling to meditate alone in a cave for a few months. Actually, I suppose it was more of a bunker, and the meditation was somewhat unorthodox in that it was actually just near-constant masturbation, but you’d be surprised how much revelatory insight one can glean in state of severe dehydration brought on by relentless self-abuse, more on that another time. Before returning to my nomadic quest for awesomeness, I stopped in to a city I lived in many years ago to visit some friends. During the course of one of these visits, a friend’s cellular phone device rang, he promptly replied, here was his side of the conversation:
-“Yeah… I’m busy.”… “I’m hanging out with Clint” … “Yes, he looks the same” … “Yes, he’s still really fit” … “No, I’m not asking that” …
At which point I realized he was talking to his sister! “Dude,” I offered, “I will totally have sex with your sister! What’s she wearing?”
-“I’m not going to ask her that”… “He asked what you were wearing” … “Actually, I just got here, and he doesn’t have a shirt on at the moment” … “No, I’m not asking him that, I have to go” …
“Hey,” I interjected, “does your sister do anal?”
-“Fuck off!” … “No, not you, I was talking to Clint” … “You don’t wanna know what he said” … “No, I’m going now, bye!”.
“Dude, I can’t believe you would cockblock me like that.”
“Shut up! And put on a shirt dammit!”
“How come you never told me your sister was, you know, down to get down? Did you know this prior to that conversation?”
“She’s had a crush on you for a while.” He sighed as he relented the information, and then attempted to change the subject by offering “you should’ve told me you were in town sooner, I’ve been using a work truck, so you could’ve been rollin’ in my GT-R instead of that shitbox rental.”
“Wait, are you seriously trying to tell me that, for the last couple of weeks, I could’ve been…”
“… Having sex with your sister?”
“Ok, you need to stop with that.”
After we parted company, unbeknownst to me, the gentleman in question began receiving text messages from his friends, of the following variety: ‘hey, what’s ur sister’s # again?’, and ‘do you know where clint is tonite? can’t get a held of him. oh, and where’s your sister?’, also, ‘on the bright side, you don’t have to worry about your sister getting pregnant… clint will just fuck her in the ass!’. Wait, did I say unbeknownst to me? I meant with my specific knowledge and as a result of my enthusiastic prompting. I get those two phrases mixed up sometimes because of the prominent role they play in my jawdroppingly frequent statutory rape trail testimony.
The next night, a few of my compatriots and I attended the cinema. The gentleman whose sister professed a desire to examine the veracity of the oft repeated rumor that I have a tattoo on my junk that reads ‘U.S. Government certified: large’, was unable to attend. As I requested updates on the progress of the texting campaign, a patron in the row in front of ours expressed a desire to assist us in driving our friend crazy. He gave me his card.
Tomorrow, the entire crew will be gathering to witness an unspecified annual sporting event (here’s a hint, it’s the one with none too subtle homoerotic overtones and a quasi-socialist business model that nonetheless garners the largest television audience of the year). I leave town a few days later. As Zeus is my witness, before I depart, I will see my friend’s very sanity drown in a frothing, undulating whirlpool of debilitating rage. Stay tuned.