Come See The Amazing Drunken Arguers

    

        

(Originally written in 2008)

There’s nothing like a loud, awkward argument in public.

           
Fun, don’t cha think?

           

I enjoy the screeching and yelling. It always brings a smile to my face.

           

If you enjoy public brawls then I personally invite you to my Fourth of July party next year (it’d be this year but I have a previous engagement to sweat my ass off in Iraq. And it’s a big ass, so I’ll be here for awhile).

           

But next year…..Ahhhh next year. Here’s what you can expect as entertainment at my party:

           

Got a new lady, her name’s Jaynie. Those who know me know that I dig on the whole Mrs. Robinson vibe, so she’s a little older (and sexy!). I love her and all, but sadly, she’s a little feisty. We talk online but we tend to argue from time to time, (something to do with my being here and her being free to enjoy the company of other men.) So, we’ve decided to take our act public.

           

At next year’s party (which will have delicious, non-human-based grilled foods and plenty of libations) I invite you to witness the drunken entertainment that will be me and Jaynie, as we “talk about our relationship.” Here’s how I’m sure it’ll go down.

           

First, we’ll start things off with a violently whispered conversation, much like the dozens of couples’ arguments that you’ve heard before. They’re kind of quiet, but at the same time drunkenly loud. With people trying to rein in big, sweeping gestures and shifting their eyes back and forth like Snidely Whiplash.

           

Next will be the decisive walk-away by one of us, (depends on who’s winning the argument.) The walk-away is always preceded by the dramatic chair-fall. And, of course, the spin-around with the last word. I love the last word because so often it makes no sense: “And you can tell her to fluffer your nutter!”

           

After the walk-away comes the “storming back in,” because sometimes the last word just isn’t enough. The storming is the introduction to act two.

           

Act two is fun because it’s audience participation. You won’t be able to pretend that you don’t hear the argument anymore. You’ll have to sit back and watch. Especially when one of us decides to single out an audience member with the line “but blank agrees with me. Right blank?!” That’s how you know it’s your turn to join in the fun! (Providing your name is Blank, I guess.)

           

When act two commences all pretences will be dropped. No more pretending to keep it civil. There will be YELLING!! And SHOUTING INCOHERENTLY! The interesting thing for the audience will be trying to decode what we’re talking about as we reference conversations and situations that are at least a year old. Relationships are great!

           

Act three will be when the threats are thrown around like one-dollar bills at a strip club (yes, dollar bills. I don’t frequent the classy establishments.) Feelings will be hurt and tempers will rise. Everything will build to a very loud and fascinating crescendo, culminating in a glass of water (or a cup of beer) being thrown in my face! Don’t miss the exciting end to the day’s entertainment!

           

Once Jaynie’s thrown liquid at me feel free to depart with whatever food you can carry, because that’ll be the end of the show and I’ll be kicking everybody out anyway.

           

So please, please come to my Fourth of July party next year. It’ll be a blast.

Talk about fireworks!*

*Get the joke I made there? There’ll be fireworks because we’ll be arguing! It’s a play on words! I’m hilarious.

We Like To Party!

O brother, where art thou? Come back to us Mr. Six! Come back! We miss you ever so much. We miss your tuxedo, your fancy shoes, your suspenders, the classy red bow tie. And, of course, those ever so stylish glasses.

Your weird, creepy face though? Not so much.

The summer is nigh and this country needs the kind of solace and respite only a withered, insane old, over-dressed man can provide. Speaking of which, why are you wearing a tuxedo in the summer bruh? And even more so, why are you wearing a full tuxedo at a WATER PARK, my dude? You don’t see me wearing jams and holding a boogie board at weddings. It’s called decorum.

Anyway, I like to imagine a typical muggy D.C. area summer’s morning with people melting on the sidewalk like ice cream cones in the sun, when all of a sudden, a dated, gaudy red-and-yellow bus pulls up and a snazzily-dressed homunculus jumps out and proceeds to have a Grand Mal seizure set to bad 90s music. Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Doesn’t that just scream summer?!

This is why we need you Mr. Six! You embody summertime fun. Also, there have recently been less maimings and accidental deaths* at Six Flags’ 31 amusement parks than one would expect. Less than 50 people have been precariously trapped on roller coasters for several spine-chilling hours over the last decade. Less then two dozen children and senior citizens have been violently tossed from various rides only to land on the hard, unyielding concrete in the same time frame. Only around ten or so guests and trainers have been attacked and/or gored by tigers, elephants and other safari inhabitants.

I mean, some park workers have been killed by roller coasters, but they knew what they signed up for, so nuts to them.

Compared to that waterside in Kansas that decapitated an 11-year-old boy, (I almost included a link, but decided against it, you’re welcome) Six Flags (Motto: Would You Rather Waste Your Money At Disney?)  is doing pretty well. Who wouldn’t want to be associated with such a great safety track record?

But you don’t have to take my word for it, just listen to these true responses when I went to a local playground to ask kids if they missed Mr. Six.

“Who?”

“No, I don’t want any of your candy mister!”

“Are you supposed to be here?”

“Baba Booey.”

“Help! Police!”

Ha ha ha! Those wacky kids. Truly, children are our future. But as you can tell, not only are you missed, but there’s an entire new generation of America’s youth that needs to be introduced to your manic and off-putting physical hijinks. You need to come back to inform and entertain (yeah, entertain is a pretty strong word for what you do, but I mean it!).

So until the glorious second (third?) coming of Chri…I mean Mr. Six, I’ll maintain a heart full of hope and keep the home fires burning.

HAVE A SUMMAH!

*Or were they…purposeful murders?