Everyone won Bingo except for me, which sounds about right. I am completely addicted. At LBK I had to call an ambulance after some twenty-one-year-old cretins beat the shit out of a hapless smoker on the sidewalk in front of the bar. He looked at them sideways, and they threw him into a parked car and stomped all over him, and then all these people on the street started yelling, "Go back to Wrigleyville!" and they ran away, which is relevant for the following thirty-one reasons:
- fist-fights don't happen there EVER
- even the bouncer attested to that
- therefore: Wrigleyville = accurate assumption
- frat-tastic chads are officially moving in on the bars I frequent
- I go to certain bars specifically to avoid those guys
- since hipster fashion is now the preppy norm, there is no way to distinguish elitists from pricks, and previously I engaged both sets differently
- I'm fairly mediocre-looking, so even when I'm just waiting for a beer and in light conversation, once it becomes evident that I am much more clever than the hipster/chad, it behooves me to determine in advance whether he is going to accuse me of being an uptight bitch (hipsters) or a lesbian (chads), so I can scoff him appropriately.
- those are the only "insults" they know
- (men rarely insult beautiful women to their faces)
- but this happens to me whenever I say something as simple as "no thanks" or as complex as "no I will not go down on you in the alley behind the dumpster because I am not your roadwhore"
- when insecure guys come face-to-face with a less-than-beautiful girl who doesn't fawn and giggle over their superior manliness, they get angry because they are obviously doing me a favor by speaking to me in the first place
- (50% of guys are very pleasant and not at all douchey)
- I tend to start a conversation with whoever is next to me as long as they aren't engaged in a conversation themselves just because I like talking to people until they start sucking
- and it's like, if you all stopped being fucking sexist manbaby-coddlebunnies, maybe you could have a conversation instead of getting angry at me for not buying your bullshit
- But no, women who don't stroke your ego are controlling bitches.
- I am sure that ego-stroking has something to do with penises
- I will stroke your ego if you deserve it.
- Mad Libs?
- So this guy at trivia night (I know, I know, I went to a trivia night last week as well. Who the fuck am I and what have we done with the real Rassles and what's with all the digression [you love it and you find me coy]) who is a friend of a friend was angry that I "took over" trivia night.
- His only reasoning for this was the fact that I am awesome at trivia.
- Now, if I didn't know the answer to a question, I left it to the table and threw in ideas when no one else knew either. But if I knew the answer then he was all "but HOW do you KNOW that?" even when he didn't know the answer, and I was like, "Why you bitchin, handsome? The Decameron is the Ten Commandments. THAT IS WHAT IT IS. This isn't fucking rocket surgery. No, I don't need to think about it. I haven't been wrong yet. No reason to get all testy-twisted. I accept your answers when you're sure of them. If I was a man, this wouldn't be an issue. We would have fist-bumped, and you probably would have been all, we need to team up all the time bro, no homo."
- This is why I don't play trivia with strangers.
- He proved to be the type of guy that would put his arm around his adorable little blonde girlfriend and say, "Yeah, my brains are rubbing off on her. She gets cooler every day." I know he's the type because he actually did that. He actually did that with complete sincerity and without any sense of deprecation or irony, and his girlfriend actually looked proud.
- His girlfriend actually answered way more questions than he did, but she did it by consulting him first for his approval. If he didn't like her answer, she wouldn't tell the rest of the team what it was.
- Then he started ragging on the announcer because he sounded like a 'gay theater guy. it's cool if he's gay, I mean, you know, but do you have to be so obvious?'
- DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO OBVIOUSLY STRAIGHT?
- So then I did that thing where my heart grows a swampland because I don't care how handsome you are anymore. I don't care that your pouting was kind of adorable.
- You are now my property, and you will live in the gator-infested swampland of my heart and you will hate it there because you're a pig, and gators eat the fuck out of swine. I can still feel them inside. Chomping away.
- I need something to fight, I think.
- whatever, it was my birthday week, I did what I want
He could have just said "no" and we would have thanked him and walked away, like we did with the other people in the bar that didn't spend all their time acting like an infected foot.
And then like twenty minutes later they beat the shit out of a guy and I called the cops and an ambulance. Victim guy was okay. Oh! and Schmee gave the cops the evidence they needed to catch the gutless bastards that ran away. Well done, Schmee.
In other news, Wu-Tang is the old-ass Led Zeppelin of hip-hop. The only one who's got any energy left is Method Man and the rest of them just politely towel each others' foreheads and shout, "Make monay monay, make monay monay monay!" and I'm all, "Dude. You're like forty" which is what I think about everyone older than I am between the ages of thirty-six and seventy.
Also, I've started reading US state maps in the bathroom. I've been collecting them for years (MoLinder and I wallpapered a room once, but they've since been taken down, refolded, and stashed in the bathroom) and since I have no road trips planned, I'm just memorizing them so when I DO go on a road trip I can be all "BOOYAH. Suck it, GPS."