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F.U.N.
Fuckin’
Unbelievable
Nightmare
[Editor's Note: If you are looking for Magic strategy, then this isn't the
article for you. There could be some Magic stuff in the next part.
Only time will tell.]
I guess that would be an appropriate title if our little trip had gotten much worse. However, this little article isn’t too random, and I’ll try to avoid any unnecessary belly-achin’. (on a mildly funny side note, the auto spellcheck thingy didn’t underline “ belly-achin’ “, nor did it catch when I originally had “Nighmare”, like that’s a word or something, oh well, sorry)
I still need that “goal” thing for this article. I actually know what it’ll contain, however, I lack the knowledge of where to start off. You know, like, what order I’ll tell stuff in. I’m all for variety and “changing things up”, so I’ll give you guys a quickie………quote that is. Ahaha. Funny. Yeah. I really do try to avoid “jokes” like that too.
My 6th round opponent is Asian, so there’s an off chance he’s not as dumb as Paul, so he could kick my ass. Not cool. However, before the match began, him and his friend playing at the same table as us started chit-chatting about some crap. Then the Asian guy coughs up a storm.
Here he goes:
*cough cough* “Man, damn SARS is killing me” -yeah, that’s what I thought, quite surprising eh?
Well that was fun, mixing things up like that. I think this whole thing’ll be random like that. A quote here, a lil’ Magic there, some babble and a lot of nonsense/brouhaha everywhere. You get the idea. Anyways, the whole me being mad thing. Yeah. There are a few good reasons. For clarity: Myself and an undetermined amount of comrades were to head off to St. Charles, Missouri to play in a Pro Tour Qualifier for the game of Magic: The Gathering. Anywho, I am not quite sure if I could fit every eensy-weensy detail in here, but….something. I forgot. I’ll try and give the most outstanding happenings which took place on the evening of 12/05/03, a Friday night mind you. Originally, I was to depart with Chris “thorn in my side” Talbert and Rudy in Chris’s car. Now, at the last minute, in a sense, Paul was added to our roster because of my persuasive skills. At about 5’ish or so, Chris had come by to pick me up so we could clean out his car, and I suggested we could try and see if Paul wanted to go. So we go and get the Gaysian and proceed to clean out his car at his cousin’s house in town, freezing our asses off in the process. It all sounds good to go until we choose to head to Chris’s house to unload the rest of the enormous pile of useless shit in the back of his car. The three of us give in to our grown-up tastes and head to Taco Bell on Main. Much to our surprise the car comes to a halt by Hy-vee, right between there and Taco Bell. Unfortunately, we’re in the middle of an INTERSECTION (a place with much traffic, at a time considered to be a small rush hour). So it looked kinda gay for us to sit there and try to start the car. I’m no stranger to embarrassingly gay situations like that, so being the confident “tough guy”, I claim I can push the car into the Taco Bell lot. Wow. Was I nice or what? Oh, Paul helped me push the car and all, but have you seen Paul’s biceps lately? I think he left them at home or something. So anyway, mathematically speaking, there was 1.2 Chris Shumards pushing the car (with Talbert’s ass in it) across a good 100 feet of busy road and UP a SIDEWAYS SLANT, expending nearly all of my pent up energy for the awesome trip we were about to pursue, that is, if his car could make it. My legs were wobbly from the extreme strain, and I was really dizzy and weezy, which is kinda rare for me. After pushing the car even further into a parking space, Chris pops the hood and claims his alternator wire is cut.
“My alternator wire is cut” -him
“Don’t be so sure. I’ve seen the way you drive.” -me
“Nah, man. It got sliced” -his “retort”
“Hmm,” I thought to myself, “I bet that extreme corrosion has nothing to do with it either.”
He calls his momma whilst Paul and I engage in “anger food”, my cute little term for the food I eat when I am angry (not really). Basically I was pissed cause it was like 6 on a Friday and nothing had happened yet. I had a Grilled Stuft Burrito (no tomatoes) and waited patiently afterwards until his mom had come to try and jump start the car for him. Huzzah! It worked! Great! Oh wait, never mind. Like I said, it was a bad night. The car ran for a while and then died again, with no success on restarting it. Ugh. He once again calls his mom back there to try again (Hurray!). No success=long gay wait. I haven’t even scratched the surface of my madness quite yet! What’s better is that we have to get a ride to his mechanic friend’s house in Knoxville so he could check out the problem. Mind you, being myself, I still don’t have a deck to play yet, nor the cards for any. So, time is against me on this one. We get a ride to the dude’s house, and once again get screwed on the deal. He can’t leave until his girlfriend gets back so she can watch the kids or something like that. Well, she JUST went SHOPPING, so she should be back SHORTLY!?!?! Naw, sorry. The stereotype for women shopping is 98% true. They can take all fucking day to choose a shampoo! That’s right, we wait for 2 ½ hours for her return. For any mathemagician, the time should be around 8:30-9:00 if you couldn’t tell. I don’t think I’ve been more frustrated in my life. There was no real hope for me to get a good deck in time, let alone go! (Oh, by the way, the whole waiting period consisted of me being around a cat (I’m allergic!) and listening to Chris and his friend play a terrible N64 wrestling game…..the whole time!) We didn’t even leave the dude’s house for another half-hour. GAY!!! Talbert wondered why I was irritated. Paul knew why, so he chose to be silent. I’ll skip some unimportant crap and say that the mechanic basically said that his alternator wire was CORRODED, and not CUT. Good job Mr. T-bert. The fixing of it only enabled us to get to Chris’s house. Double gay. Blah blah blah. It can’t be fixed tonight. Blah blah blah. Yadda yadda yadda. Hurray. As a last ditch effort to go, Paul and I head to “The House” via Mrs. Talbert. Ergo, vis-à-vis, concordantly, begins a new chapter in this ever-so-thrilling anthology.
Chris Colwell informs me he’s not going, so that sparks that light bulb thingy in my mind.
“Hey, that leave 2 empty seats in Andrew’s car”
Perfectly enough space for myself and Rudy (who hadn’t even been aware of the whole mess and who was currently working). That worked out alright I guess. I’d still get to go. However, I talk Paul out of it, since he was probably even more unprepared than I was, and had no real intent of playing anyhow. So that means in Andrew’s car there would be: Andrew, Eric, Adam, Rudy, and my disgruntled self. That works out rather nicely. I get all the cards I need for my deck I choose to play, mostly off CCC (or Chaos Chris Colwell for long). Its coming around 10:30 or so, so Adam lets me take his car to take Paul home, and to later pick up Rudy from work.
(Please try to bear with me on this one. You see, my night was gayer than any of yours, of that I’m sure. Unless you were gang-raped by prison escapees and you had to spoon feed your grandmother your own feces. Then you’d barely have me beat.)
Anyways, back to takin’ Paul home. Paul and I see Talbert later at Paul’s house, desperately throwing pennies at Paul’s window (butt crack showing an’ all) in an attempt to get Paul’s tattention. Blah, blah, blah. Unimportant stuff. Paul goes inside to sleep. Talby and I have a brief chit-chat.
“I’m gonna have my alternator fixed tonight, so we’re still goin’.” -him
“Well, that is awesome considering we already decided I’d go in Andrew’s car, along with Rudy.” -pretty much summing up what I said
Here’s the deal breaker. He guaranteed it would be fixed, so that would mean I’d “have to change plans back to what they were before”, because, essentially, he’d be flat-out screwed solely based on a decision I made?!?!! I decided I’d go in Andrew’s car because that would be my only perceived way of going. There was no longer another car in the picture at all. That’s how everyone saw it. AND, everyone, including myself, would believe it to be hazardous to travel in a vehicle that had JUST broken down. I’m kinda losing track here, and that should show that I never really had a grasp on the whole situation. Perhaps a graph or essay would help:
1. Talbert’s car breaks down
A. this is bad
B. me, rudy, and paul are also screwed
C. it’s a long gay wait
D. I’m pissed
2. Chris Colwell isn’t going
A. huzzah! That means 2 open seats
B. I can still go
C. AND he even lends me cards
D. all is well!!!
3. Oh, but wait!
A. Talbert’s car is “fixed”
1. Define “fixed”
B. He declares I go with him
1. That’s pretty gay, considering I had previous arrangements
2. and the whole night was fucked up because of him already
It’s hard to encompass all of the riff-raff, but basically, The Talbert-tron 3000 ran rampant in the house, stirring up trouble as he went. But wait! Who’s in the middle? Who always gets the shaft? Who always gets the gay decision to make? I’ll give you 18 guesses. Its me. There. Ya happy? Don’t know why you would be, but I just feel all doped up about the whole thing. I don’t get it. Nothing works out. So all in all, long story short, being the friend I am, and even after all the “threats” and shit talking, I decided I’d like Talbert to go, and I hope he’d never forget that. That I made some choices that would benefit HIM, even though the night pointed in the other direction for him. Yeah, like I said, long story short, that’s it for that. I don’t feel the need to explain anything else. If you were there, you know. If you weren’t there, it’s not necessary to know any more about it, trust me.
Sorry, I had to point out some of that dreadful night.
“I busted my ass.” - a random quote from Talbert
“I’ve been good all week.” - another one (I couldn’t resist)
Well, I’m gonna retire for the night. Or morning rather. Haha. 5:35 in the a.m. Wowza! You, on the other hand, will not even know I was gone. See ya later!
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