I have had my share of crazy nights, but I feel the need to relate last weekend to you: the loyal reader. Why, you might ask, why would you feel the need. We’ve all had our crazy nights and we really don’t need to hear about yours. Well, have no fear. I will not regale you with stories about how many beers were drank, shots were taken down or beer bongs were guzzled. I wish only to relate a revelation that I had about myself. This revelation did not occur on the night of the drunkenness, but on the day after, when I found out what had happened. Here goes the story.
After leaving the last bar, I apparently left my group of friends and decided to strike out on my own. Why I decided to do this, I don’t think I’ll ever know. We were at Pennsylvania State University over the summer. I don’t particularly know anyone that was staying there over the summer. I really don’t know where I possibly could have thought I was going. The only evidence of what I did aside from my friend’s accounts is that one of my dialed calls was my ATM PIN. I really can’t imagine what I thought pulling that move was going to accomplish. I think my one regret from that night is not knowing what was going through my head when I did that. All of this is unimportant. The important thing is what was going on when I rejoined my friends at the apartment we were staying at. Apparently, I had gotten really angry at this bush next to the apartment and was ripping all the flowers off of it and throwing them around. I don’t know what this bush said to piss me off, but it sure got what was coming to it. I went Pete Dunson on that mofo. I saw it the next day and not one flower remained intact. Not only that, I tore up all the shrubs on that side of the street. It was a glorious swath of destruction. Apparently destroying one bush just couldn’t satiate my lust for chlorophyll.

Urge to kill RISING!

Now you may be wondering why I told you this. Well, for one, I though it was funny as hell. And two, if your bush gets destroyed you know what happened. It pissed me off.

Listen: Foo Fighters, “Stacked Actors”

Quote:
Creepy Guy: This your bush? You have a special bond with this bush?
Kumar: No, I just thought that…
Creepy Guy: You the king of the forest?
Kumar: I’m sorry?
Creepy Guy: What?
Creepy Guy: You fuckin’ tree-hugger. IS THIS YOUR SPECIAL BUSH?

Addendum:

After rereading this post, I realized that I had used both ATM and PIN and I realized that people use those terms in ways that piss me off. You don’t say ATM machine. It’s redundant. ATM stands for Automated Teller Machine. You wouldn’t say Automated Teller Machine machine. Unless you were an idiot. You’re not an idiot are you? Same thing with PIN number. It’s Personal Identification Number. You’ll feel really dumb next time you say PIN number and I’m right behind you to call you out on it. I’m probably not lurking there in the bushes behind you, but I might be. Keep your head on a swivel.

Listen: Blur, “I’m Just A Killer For Your Love”

Quote: “Hey, we’re flexible. Pearl Harbor didn’t work out so we got you with tape decks.” - Joseph Takagi

Your response: