Morning, guys! I hope all your your Labor Day Weekends went well, or at least weren’t a total disaster. One good thing should have happened to you this weekend, or I might be a little sad. I mean, I wish nothing but the best for all of you glorious people who pay attention to my life.
It is Monday the third of September, and the weather has decided that it is mid-July. No, really, it’s not allowed to be so goddamn hot here! I spent the entire weekend at the fair, which was both a good and bad thing. There were a few really great things, like the fact that I got to see some of my friends that I hadn’t seen in a while. The downside is that, we’ll, some of them don’t really look on me all that highly anymore.
An upside was that I got a ton of free carnival rides because, hey, I’m just that awesome. A downside was that when I tried flirting with the guy who ran the Dizzy Dragons ride, I got brutally rejected and then found out that my little sister got his number.
And upside is that I spent the entire weekend away from home, and the downside is that, well…I had to spend time with people that I have a hard time with. We could go through all the upsides and downsides of the weekend, but, to put it simply, it was a good time with some bad points.
We’re not gonna go into all the gory details. We’re going to tell a story about a guy that I’m friends with and his pockets full of beer. We’re going to recollect the five minutes of one night that I found to be truly and absolutely happy and amusing. We’re going to just nail this story right now.
So, there’s this guy that I talk to a lot. I consider him to be a very close friend, but we don’t see each other often at all. So, when we talked a week ago, the chances of me seeing him at the fair were about three hundred to one. Or more. And then, Sunday night at the Tractor Pull, there he was, standing not five feet away from me. Killer chances at an event where there are over two thousand people crowded onto stands on a large hill, watching tractors pull…heavy things?
Anywhoooo, so, I saw him, and he starts walking up the hill, and in my head I’m thinking: ohhh hell no. So, I walk up behind him and poke him in the arm. He looks around and finally sees me, and goes: “Why’d you poke me?”
All I did was reply: “Because I felt like it?”
“Uhmm…………who are you?”
“HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, GET OVER HERE. I AM SO SORRY, I AM SO FUCKED UP RIGHT NOW!”
This is about the point where I almost collapse from laughter. Here we are, standing on a hill at a fucking tractor pull, and also participating in about a five minute hug…on a hill, at a tractor pull…
And it’s just so the thing I imagine happening between us anyway. We’re both so adorably awkward that our friendship is perfect. And I know I’m raving on and on, but holy Asgard, it was good to see a familiar face. Anyway, that conversation lasted for all of fifteen minutes, and then I had to cut out and head home.
Kyle, my apparent best friend, drove us home, and God, it was funny. His little brother and my little sister sat in the back, making jokes about how to be a good wingman, and he and I continued to make the joke that he is an ugly Michael Phelps…I don’t know, it’s this whole thing.
Anyway, I’m being boring because I’m watching a movie with my little sister…soooo…I’ll just…go…