I have seen the face of evil!!!
Okay, no I haven't. I haven't seen the face of evil. I did, however see the face of Karla. I also saw the arms of Karla as well as the hands, hair and ears.
Legs. I'm pretty sure there were legs also. They bent. At the knees.
As those of you who actually read this blog (as opposed to you who simply use the find function on your browser to skip to the dirty words) know, my infernal master, St. Nicholas the Oh-so Terrible, sent me to Texas, and I was afforded the rare opportunity to actually meet my all-time, gold-star, peed-myself-laughing, favorite blogger face to face.
"You met Andy Rooney???" I hear you all gasping. No, damnit. Pay attention. I met Karla. Christ. It's like trying to talk to Sea Monkeys...
I know that the popular belief out there is that Karla is not a person at all, but in fact an entire room full of highly trained (and heavily drugged) monkeys with internet access. Some of you believe that she is an elaborate ruse concocted by the creative writing class at the Mt. Pittle's Bluff County Correctional Facility for Insufferably Obtuse Women. Yet others think she is in fact Charro.
I can now confirm without a shred of doubt that none of these things are true. For I have met her in person. I have sat across a table from her and looked her in the eye (she has only one) and I have seen her true form. I learned many things about Karla during that dinner. I learned at least 5 of the 100 things wrong with her that have not yet seen print. But those are her secrets to reveal, and I won't divulge them here. I can tell you one thing about Karla though. One thing that, until now, nobody knew:
Karla is a dude.
You heard it here first folks, Karla's totally this big hairy albino dude with a rusted prosthetic leg who goes on long crying jags after only one beer. And she/he smells like vinegar and suntan lotion. Believe me, no one was more surprised than me. The really crazy thing is that he/she doesn't speak a word of English. Just wheezes and grunts. Karla sounds like a 1972 VW Beetle trying to start on a cold morning. It stands all the hairs on your body straight up. Yeeesh.
Okay, you and I both know that's bullshit... In fact, the only way for me to truly tell you about meeting Karla is to turn the funny off for a minute.
Funny Off.
Karla is awesome. In person she is absolutely as cool and funny as you think she is. Seriously. Quick-witted and warm and just a little bit insane. And what's even better is that she comes complete with a posse of similarly cool people. I met her husband Brian, who is one of those guys who immediately makes you feel liked and at ease. I also met her friend Vanessa, who is hysterical and generous, and her friend Brooks, who is laid back and cool and has a pretty twisted sense of humor.
These Santa Inc. trips I go on are pretty tiring. They involve hard work and long, long hours in the dead of night, and I'm away from my wife and alone in strange places and it can really wear a guy down. For just a few hours I was totally among friends and it really picked me up again. While I have the funny turned off here I just want to say thanks to Karla and her gang, for making me feel so welcome, and for giving me one of the best times I've had in a while. You all rock and I hope it goes without saying that if you're ever in the Baltimore-DC area, you gotta look me up so I can return the favor. We really need to get them to move Dallas and Baltimore closer together.
Okay everybody, deep breath... Funny back on.
I'm totally serious about the prosthetic leg though. It's fucking creepy. And when she tries to dance, it squeaks.
Legs. I'm pretty sure there were legs also. They bent. At the knees.
As those of you who actually read this blog (as opposed to you who simply use the find function on your browser to skip to the dirty words) know, my infernal master, St. Nicholas the Oh-so Terrible, sent me to Texas, and I was afforded the rare opportunity to actually meet my all-time, gold-star, peed-myself-laughing, favorite blogger face to face.
"You met Andy Rooney???" I hear you all gasping. No, damnit. Pay attention. I met Karla. Christ. It's like trying to talk to Sea Monkeys...
I know that the popular belief out there is that Karla is not a person at all, but in fact an entire room full of highly trained (and heavily drugged) monkeys with internet access. Some of you believe that she is an elaborate ruse concocted by the creative writing class at the Mt. Pittle's Bluff County Correctional Facility for Insufferably Obtuse Women. Yet others think she is in fact Charro.
I can now confirm without a shred of doubt that none of these things are true. For I have met her in person. I have sat across a table from her and looked her in the eye (she has only one) and I have seen her true form. I learned many things about Karla during that dinner. I learned at least 5 of the 100 things wrong with her that have not yet seen print. But those are her secrets to reveal, and I won't divulge them here. I can tell you one thing about Karla though. One thing that, until now, nobody knew:
Karla is a dude.
You heard it here first folks, Karla's totally this big hairy albino dude with a rusted prosthetic leg who goes on long crying jags after only one beer. And she/he smells like vinegar and suntan lotion. Believe me, no one was more surprised than me. The really crazy thing is that he/she doesn't speak a word of English. Just wheezes and grunts. Karla sounds like a 1972 VW Beetle trying to start on a cold morning. It stands all the hairs on your body straight up. Yeeesh.
Okay, you and I both know that's bullshit... In fact, the only way for me to truly tell you about meeting Karla is to turn the funny off for a minute.
Funny Off.
Karla is awesome. In person she is absolutely as cool and funny as you think she is. Seriously. Quick-witted and warm and just a little bit insane. And what's even better is that she comes complete with a posse of similarly cool people. I met her husband Brian, who is one of those guys who immediately makes you feel liked and at ease. I also met her friend Vanessa, who is hysterical and generous, and her friend Brooks, who is laid back and cool and has a pretty twisted sense of humor.
These Santa Inc. trips I go on are pretty tiring. They involve hard work and long, long hours in the dead of night, and I'm away from my wife and alone in strange places and it can really wear a guy down. For just a few hours I was totally among friends and it really picked me up again. While I have the funny turned off here I just want to say thanks to Karla and her gang, for making me feel so welcome, and for giving me one of the best times I've had in a while. You all rock and I hope it goes without saying that if you're ever in the Baltimore-DC area, you gotta look me up so I can return the favor. We really need to get them to move Dallas and Baltimore closer together.
Okay everybody, deep breath... Funny back on.
I'm totally serious about the prosthetic leg though. It's fucking creepy. And when she tries to dance, it squeaks.
posted by CommonWombat at 2:49 AM
15 Comments:
Texas is close enough as it is, thanks.
LOL
Glad you had a good time.
Crap. Because I had already directed my minions to distribute flyers at the first sign on my demise, I felt I had to rush a post online this morning to let the minions know that I was, in fact, alive, and that they neededn't get off their lazy asses and do the flyer thing. I wanted it to be a funny post, though, and I knew it would be funnier if I could take my time and read over it a few times over the course of a day, tweaking it here and there. In the end, I hustled my only medium-funny post online, sacrificing humor for speed. And wouldn't you know it, YOUR post is fucking hilarious. Asshole.
And touching. Thanks for the kind words. Although, you didn't have to be so nice in your descriptions of my friends, just me. Screw them. Assholes.
And thanks for not mentioning my retardo moment when I took a picture of the two of us while holding the camera backwards. Or the toilet paper on my shoe. (Well, hell. I guess you could have mentioned those things after all, since I just did.) But since you at least tried to hide my shortcomings, I vow not to reveal the four STDs you told us you got from the pre-op tranny hooker in Vegas.
And please, come back and visit any time.
She's not Charro?
I feel I should point out that the four STDs were in fact contracted from four seperate pre-op tranny hookers. But I did get them all in the same night. That's just how I roll.
Ya'll had to be the highlight of the restaurant. Especially that rusted & squeaky cyclops jigging around the STD ridden wombat! ;-)
I'm glad ya'll had a great time.
I came here from reading Karla's site. You are both very funny!
Ah, I knew wombat had a soft side. You made a friend -- one who actually applauds you poo-talk. That's a keeper.
Little known fact: I was actually much more worried about you not coming back than her. Based on what I know of Karla, it seems completely possible that you would have found yourself waking up the next morning face down in an alley... in Mexico.
Nice to know you're safe.
Oh, and on a side note, I went to the mall today and there was a group of people setting up a Santa display. None of them looked like you though, so I didn't stop to make friends.
great photo of you all on Karla's blog too, couldn't help thinking that must be what the view is like from the bottom of the cauldron - looking up at the witches
I love reading your version and then Karla's of this meeting...SO funny!
Wait wait wait. "Funny Off"? I didn't realize the funny was on in the first place.
Oh DAMN I just burned you so hard!
Now I'm going to go cry because I used such a lame joke.
i knew she was a dude all along.
Congratulations on making it back from Texas in one piece!! :)
BTW.. I almost hate to tell you this, but Karla has a fatal disease (I think it's called sick-sense-of-humor-itis), actually it's an inherited condition which runs rapid in her family....... I know, I am her cousin and have had the condition since birth. However, it seems that Karla's condition has escalated over the years. :(
There is no cure, we are doomed! YIKES!
As for not doing any harm to her.... well I guess my thanks are in order, however, is it possible to get reimbursed for the thousands of missing flyers I printed???? I've already tried to hit Karla up for it, but she hasn't responded to my email yet, so thought I would try you too seeings how you are the one that left her in one piece.
ha, classic... very funny...
lol you guys are great... I clicked through from Karal, but I'm now going to start reading up on your site too! Ain't nothin' funnier than monkeys on drugs... except maybe monkeys on drugs with scurvy. heh... vitamin C deficiencies...
Post a Comment
<< Home