I just really want to be funny right now

I'm sitting here at work looking all goofy (I just shaved off my goatee for the first time in a year) and I feel like being funny right now. I know that I look funny, which is why I grew out the goatee for this first time in my life a few years ago. I had to go clean shaven for a while when I worked at the Pfister Hotel because they haven't changed their grooming policies since like when Theodore Roosevelt was president. That was real rough, cause I hate shaving. But last night, I just got hot and shaved my head and face. I'd blame the alcohol ($2 long island ice teas at Landmark last night) and the nachos and cheese sauce, but I guess in this case I have no one left to blame but myself. I just kind of felt like it. So now I have to go around looking like a 15 year old boy but not hot, and letting people make fun of me. But if I look good and the chicks dig it, then maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. The chicks didn't dig me before, so I guess there's no harm in trying something else.

My main reason for posting today was to break up the monotony of Brewers stuff, because I really didn't want to talk shit about Prince Fielder's gangsta ass starting street brawls in the dugout. Everyone from my boss, the ESPN, to your Mom is talking about that, and I just became the very thing that I hate my talking about it too. You tricked me into doing it. You played me like a fiddle. Touche. I really just have this undying need to be funny right now, but I have nothing humorous to say. I suppose if I concentrated and thought really hard, then I could think of something funny. I got it! I'll start talking about old people.

There's this old chick who sits next to me at work, and she always bitches and moans about stuff. One day, she was balancing her checkbook, and complained that she didn't remember writing a check for 12 dollars. I wanted to ask her if one of her grand kids had a birthday. When Estelle Getty (the old witty grandma Sophia on the Golden Girls) died a few weeks ago, I wanted to ask her to tell me some stories about what was it like working with her on that show. I told one of my co-workers that I wish she had a ceramic jar on her desk with Werther's Originals and butterscotch hard candies. Every now and then, she gets all worked up and needs to take her medications to calm down. Then she starts popping those pills like they were skittles. I just wish I had the nerve to ask her if she was tasting the rainbow.

There's this other chick up North who was being a real Nancy while we were trying to play the Painted Ponies song (and others of that sort) around the campfire late at night on the last day of vacation. Quiet time wasn't until midnight, but she made us get kicked out at 11:30 pm. I've never been a huge fan of old people, but she gave me a reason to keep on being weirded out by them. On that day I vowed to never get old, and I also promised to learn Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It" on guitar so I can rage it at the fire pit next year. Hey Nancy - oh you're so condescending, your gall is never ending. We don't want nothin', not a thing from you. Your life is trite and jaded, boring and confiscated. If that's your best, your best won't do. Any of those 80's rock songs would work here, but I'd say let me help you outta your chair....grandma!! Hearing unknown voices... laughing insane!

But not all grannies are bad. There's this other chick who swims across the lake everyday, and in my opinion, lives a pretty sweet life. She recently remarried, and in a drunken stupor one night I boldly proclaimed that I'd go for some granny lovin' if that meant free rent. It wouldn't be all that bad, since I'm down for waking up at the crack of dawn, 4:00 pm dinners at Ponderosa or Old Country Buffett, watching Matlock and the History Channel, and afternoon naps. Grandma's are pretty sweet, and I'd totally give up my hard core party lifestyle to go to the casino to play bingo, go to church meetings, and get ice cream with the grand kids. It'd certainly be a lot better than the kind of shit I'm doing right now. It would be like retiring, but still being young enough (27) to not be old and be waiting on death's doorstep.

I guess I already kind of look old. In that picture up above, I kind of look like Michael Chiklis from the Commish, the Shield, and the Fantastic 4 movies. Since he's 45 years old, that makes me look old enough to be hanging out with 65 + year old chicks, so I guess then it is ok to be granny lovin'. Why in the hell am I sitting here trying to rationalize granny lovin' for free rent and dollars? From all of the stuff I listed above, it really sounds like a pretty freakin' sweet deal to me. If Michael Chiklis, arguably one of the most badass people in the world, can do some granny lovin', then why the hell can't I? I'd like to note for the record that Chiklis doesn't do granny lovin', but hey, nobody's perfect.

If you can think of something on the contrary, then feel free to leave your comments in the appropriate section below. Not enough people read/comment on my ramblings here, so I don't know whether or not you agree/disagree with me. I know that I'm right, it's just a question if you believe me.

So don't knock granny lovin' until you try it. I'm seemingly all for it, because it sounds like an easy out of this crap I'm in right now, but let it be known that things are not always as good as they appear to be. I haven't tried granny lovin', cause I'm all talk and no game. Before people get all uppity on my case over this posting today, it was just a stupid idea that came to me in a drunken stupor one night after too much S-ing the B (slapping the bag of boxwine) up on Kurutz's Kourt. I apologize for any geriatrics that were harmed (fell and broke a hip and couldn't get up) in the making of this blog, and I also apologize for my attitude towards senior citizens. Because, although slow and dangerous behind the wheel, they can still serve a purpose. After all, someone needs to come on down and be the next contestant on the Price is Right.

- pookon -

http://www.pookon.com/

email : pookondotcom@gmail.com