PAT!!!

We went to buy comics today, and the previously mentioned comics-guy was not there. Paul (God bless 'im) managed to slip the question to the teller that was there, and now we know.

Pat!

Dude, if you ever read this blog, I am so sorry it took me a year to learn your name. Did I mention that I'm an ass?

Next time: More examples of my inherent assery!

Thanks... um... Guy...

Okay, so those of you looking for more proof that I am indeed an ass should listen up.

Paul and I have made a weekly ritual out of going to the comic book store. Every Wednesday we saddle up and head out to our usual establishment, a nice little comics shop called Alternate Worlds. It's not the most forward-thinking of places, but the people in there are as nice as they come, and heck, I've been going there for my comics since I was 12. I'm loyal like that. Anyway, Paul and I make a night of it, buying our comics, having dinner, occasionaly doing other shopping, and ending up at Satrbucks for yet another "frapportunity."

"Hey," You're thinking, "certainly this makes you a big nerd, but when do we get to the part where you're an ass?"

Hang in there.

So there's this guy that works at Alternate Worlds, and he's there most Wednesdays. Over the past year or two I've gotten to know him a little. Not know him in the "bosom buddies" sense, more in the "aquaintance" sense. Our conversations tend to stay mainly in the "Did you read the latest Daredevil issue" arena, but I must admit I genuinely like talking to the guy. He's nice, he's articulate, and he's got a good sense of humor. Besides, I don't get to have comic dork conversations much in my daily life.

So I've come to view this guy from the comic store as sort of a friend. I mean, I see the guy every week, we talk about our mutual interests, we joke around, and if he told me he needed a ride somewhere, or a kidney, I'd give it to him.

Okay not the kidney. That was a lie. But the ride? Absolutely.

Today I bumped into him while I was out and about doing my typical Saturday crap. He was coming out of a movie theater and I was like "Hey! There's my friend from the comic store!" And I said Hi and we chatted for a minute. It was very pleasant.

Ready for the part where I'm an ass?

I have no idea what his name is.

He knows my name, I mean it's on my subscription box at the comic store, and it's on my credit card... When he sees me he goes "Hey John!" And I go "Hey..." And I'm thinking "what is his name for the love of Christ what's his NAME??? Why don't they wear name tags here???"

See, because he got my name from my account info, we never had that moment where we actually exchanged introductions. I suppose that's a risk of the retailer/customer relationship. The crappy part is that there was a point where it probably would have been no big deal to stop the conversation and just go "Hey what's your name by the way?" but I missed that point oh... a year ago. Now it just seems insanely stupid that I've been talking to this dude every week for a year and change and still think of him as "The guy with sideburns."

So you see? I'm an ass. I'm a big fat ass. Now you have proof, as if you didn't already know. Every Wednesday I go into that store and think "I'm an ASS." Well no longer. I'm determined to find out this dude's name. Preferably by some underhanded sneaky method that doesn't out me as Turbo-Ass, but I'll just come out and ask him if I absolutely have to.

God I hope I don't have to.

I'm an ass.

More on this exciting story as it develops.

Fanfizzle from Da Common Wombizzle...

God help me, but Sal passed on the link to the Snoop Dogg Shizzolator. This site translates other sites into, you know... The shizzle and all that. I was just reading my own blog as translated by this thing, and at the risk of sounding like the whitest white boy on earth, I was nearly peeing myself. Some choice nuggets:

Ooops. Did I just be like something controversial? Yo' ass can't see that shiznit right now, but my undies are showing too.

MAN: "I'm sick today n' shit. Sick as da d-o-g."
WOMAN: "That's a lovely cumberbund n' shit. "

I highly reccomend reading all your favorite blogs this way. At least until the novelty wears off... Say, after about 5 minutes.

Peace yall!

Crack of Doom!

SO the big news today, other than Prince Charles finally getting to hitched to Camilla Parker-Bowles-Thorne-Smith-Love-Hewitt is that the Virgina House of Delegates has passed a bill making wearing low-riders illegal.

Now, my understanding is that this bill still has to pass the State Senate, so I'm not going to knee-jerk too much here. But I reserve the right to knee-jerk a little.

I know that low-riders are kind of trashy and gross. I get that on 95% of the people out there they look pretty fucking dumb, and I get that generally speaking, folks just don't really want to see your undies, or that classy "Princess" tattoo you got on your ass. I get it. But when did we become a country that actually outlaws bad taste?

I'm pretty sure that part of our freedom of expression is the right to look like an absolute dipshit in public. I'm sure the puritans would debate that, but in terms of counting the freedoms that we love over here, the ones that make the terrorists quiver with outrage? Looking like a moron? Right up there on the list. Right next to listening to crappy music and having questionable piercings. Come on people! You gotta fight for your right and all that!

If you read the article I linked to above, you'll see that there's an aditional racial angle to all this that makes it doubly weird. But from my perspective, it was pretty fucked-up before all that anyway.

As if that weren't enough: There is a University of Colorado professor who may be fired for writing a paper that seems to be pro-terrorist. This is another one of those things that just makes my jaw drop open. You may hate what the guy wrote... I know I don't particularly agree with his point of view, but you can't just fire somebody for expressing a controversial opinion. I don't understand this country sometimes. How can we be sooooo in love with all our freedoms and then persecute people for taking advantage of them? It's like we knocked out the Taliban just so we could become the Taliban.

Ooops. Did I just say something controversial? You can't see it right now, but my undies are showing too.

Next post: 100% less ranting. I promise. I must just be having one of those days.