Add another moment to the list

We all, like Cool Runnings, have our moments. Some of us even like to name them. For instance, Rob imparted to me a term that I use quite often describing a moment where everything works perfectly like a movie, that term: cinematic moment. On this week's episode of one of TV's funniest animated programs featuring a 10 year old black child as the main character, The Boondocks, the theme was about nigga moments. A nigga moment is when for no apparent reason, otherwise charming and bright individuals will suddenly abandon all reason and through rage get themselves into a situation they can't get out of, like jail. (I know what you're thinking but it's not racist if I'm just giving a synopsis!)

Anyway, to this list of moments I add my own. I dub it the Julia Roberts Pretty Woman moment. It happened to me when I was at the mall. Just hanging out, minding my own business. I saw the very same Calvin Klein suit I purchased last week (after much conflict, discomfort, and amid hilarious bits (I was on fire)). Anyway I guess I wasn't really dressed to impress in my 80's Member's only jacket, my Vans, and my favorite pair of jeans, but I looked damn sexy. Despite this as I was compairing dress shirts to the suit the snooty salesman sauntered over to me and motioned for me to take off my headphones. He proceeded to look down his nose so intently I thought he was going to aim a sneeze at me before saying "I bet you wish you could buy that. Don't you? Pesant*?"

What the hell? Do I look like I just rode a borrowed mule from my thatched roof cottage or something? Those headphones went to an iPod! A 40-gig too, not some pissy 2-gig hand-me-down! I shot back "Actually, I already have this one, mostly for lounging around in, maybe going to the bars." He then sprang into Mr. Helpful Ass Kisser. It was darling. I ended up with four new shirts and he ended up with no comission** because I let him help me then bought them later. Ha!

- Scott

* True, except for the pesant bit. Too tempting to leave out.
** Do Famous Bar Employees*** get comission?
*** Also, why was this guy sweating me? He works at Famous Frickin' Bar who is he to judge?

It's been one week...

I can't think of more appropriate song lyrics. You know the song with the listing of things? Barenaked Ladies? A band that, much like Free Corndogs, changed their name to trick people into comming to their concerts. Which is a damned dirty trick, and as such I love it. I also like that the Barenaked Ladies now have nothing better to do than appear on VH1 "I love" series and Comedy Central Specials.

Anyway, the song lyrics, they're appropriate because it's been a friggin' week since I posted. That is just not acceptable. However you didn't miss much. I did get in some good hang time with old friends in town, but not nearly enough. This year continued the tradition of the Drunken Thanksgiving. I don't really think I had as good a time this year. Perhaps too drunk? That's something to think about for the next year. Maybe work out a formula for just exactly when to start drinking to be at my pique intoxication when we get to Mad Gab and Buzz Word.

I'll get on that. You enjoy this gem. I'm serious. If you've never followed a link I've laid down, now is the time to redeem yourself. It's amazing.

- Scott

C'mon post

Current Mood: Impressively lazy (instead of finding the remote and muting the TV, I just turned the game up louder)
Current Music: Led Zepplin - Kashmir (as played through an NES music processor)

Nintendo should just start making everything. I mean it. The NES controller is already a belt buckle, MP3 player, and all around geek chic item. The NES itself is the ultimate in computer case mods. So really, why isn't it still the 80's? That seems to be the basis of all fashion, music, and movies today. Are we any better off? Oh yeah, blazing fast porn. How could I forget.

Anyway I wanted to whip out a post considering the likelihood that I'll be busy these next few days (what with my being a stud and all the girlies being home for Thanksgiving... better get 'em before the holiday flux sets in). And this post is all about my favorite person: myself. So let's bring you all up to speed on what I've been doing and what I'm going to be doing over the past, and next few days respectivelly. And we'll use the post condensing tool of the year: bullets.

• Last few days: Went and saw Walk the Line which had some serious pacing issues. However whatever went on during the 2nd act was completely drowned out by the drunk-off-his-ass heckler in the back periodically slurring "C'mon Johnny!" It. Was. Hilarious. There was a breif scene with Waylon Jennings and Drunky McHeckle switched smoothly into a one time "C'mon Waylon". I was amazed that despite being more plastered than the outside of a Mexican villa, the guy had perfect comedic timing. However the kicker of the whole event was when bitchy girl No. 3 decided to intervene. Here is their exact exchange:

Bitchy Girl No. 3: Would you please shut up?!
Drunky McHeckle: I'm sorry...
Bitchy Girl No.3: It's ok.
Drunky McHeckle: Be quiet, we're trying to watch a movie here!

• I really was sad to see him go. That day also included a lovely conversation on the topic of cock piercings and the exact meaning of "Hot Carl". A car full of guys spins a wonderful web of topics. I had a pretty decent call back to the "Hot Carl" discussion later on, but for the life of me I can't remember what the second topic was. Steve, help me out?
  

• Most Recent Few Days: I've been planning a pretty bitchin' party for my school. Well... kind of... it's a LAN Party. I know. I know. Geeky. But still, we've got two girls comming. Not too hard on the eyes either. Not that I'll notice, what with the fragging of n00Bz and boasting of my superior penis size and the resultant boost in gameplay skill.
  

• Next Few Days: I'll be in Jerseyville. On Thanksgiving I'll be as drunk as the Golden Girls at Mardi Gras, so don't expect to be able to contact me. I believe the quote was "So break out the Bailey's because I plan to be two bottles deep before we even cook the bird." I think that pretty much covers it. Other than that, I'm open for shenanigans as always. If you want in, you know the digits.
  

Enjoy T-day everyone.

- Scott

The Early Adopters

I recently saw something that really took me back while I waited at the train station on my ridiculously delayed train. That something? L.A. Lights. Remember those? The shoes with the light up heel? I do. I used to wear them almost exclusively. I think that phase was somewhere beginning in 2nd grade all the way through 5th. But they didn't make them in bigger sizes for reasons I couldn't imagine. Sure they kind of gave you away when you were depositing a twosie in the school john (which was frowned upon, and by frowned upon I mean you got made fun of, apparently these kids were the target demographic for "Everybody Poops"), but they were a good shoe damn it. Now I've figured out why they didn't catch on in the upper age ranges.

Gangstas. That's right; gangstas. What makes a shoe executive decide to make a shoe is whether or not thug-ass gangstas will buy it. Why wouldn't they? Well it might have something to do with the easy to follow red flashing lights as they run from the crime scene. I mean, at that point, why not just leave a number and address where you can be reached at. Also they couldn't bring themselves to tiptoe to avoid setting off the lights, thus saving the batteries for a while longer, the way I could. But this early adopters policy isn't just for shoes, it's for everything.

For instance: the broadband. Know why we have such lovely high-speed connections readily available to the public? Porn. Guys just needed to get their porn at a more reasonable speed. As much as you can as fast as possible. So much internet traffic was taken up by porn it was deemed nessary to increase the speed at which this traffic can move. And it doesn't end there, bought anything online with a credit card lately? You can thank porn. Seen any schweet animated GIF's? Porn was there. Enjoying that new webcam Rob? Porn.

So what I'm saying here is that if we want things we love to endure, like the internet, shoes, and Arrested Development, we need to get pornographers and gangsta's behind it. I think I'm going to mull that over for awhile and debate whether or not I should just run everything.

- Scott

Shootyz Groove: wise beyond their spelling.

"Riding on the train, riiiiding on the EL train. I don't got no problems no more, no more, no. Riding on the train, cruising on the EL train, I will reach my destination for sure I know."

I have to agree with the lads, on the El it does seem like I've got no problems at all. I don't have to steer, I don't have to talk, I don't have to do a damn thing. It's a lot like mowing, except for the steering issue. Both times to chill out and do some deep thinking. The topic of this weekend's sessions of free thinking? Well they were largely centered around Lauren Sharpe, the beautiful pixie improvisario. I caught her and her team, Otis, at IO on Saturday night in Chi-town after the Video Games Live concert was canceled, the one Tim, the Ryder 'Rents, and myself rushed through dinner to attend, only to arrive to a dark and deserted Chicago Theater. To quote Tim "Life is funny sometimes".

It is, especially to me. This causes problems at funerals, police interrogations, and any time I have to pass through customs. And let's not even get into my SQL class in which the professor often uses the word "query". But for all my laughing at inappropriate times, Lauren Sharpe produced laughter at all the right times, and did it looking hot. Whilst sitting at the bar watching her I couldn't help but think: "This girl is f*&king BEAUTIFUL. And funny. More so than Sarah Silverman, on both counts." Then I laughed that I bothered to censor myself in my own head. Then I thought about how much I hate censorship and interjected the word fuck between all words in my internal monologue for the next few sentences. I stopped only because it was too easy and I could see it developing into a potentially debilitating speech problem.

Anyway, you can imagine how much I freaked out when I, not 20 minutes ago, saw her in a Long John Silvers commercial. I decided that it was a sign. I must now move to Chicago and follow her around until she too is in love with me. I anticipate that this will take no more than two weeks. Tim, if you see her could you give her my card? That way she'll be pre-seduced for when I eventually manage to track her down.

- Scott

P.S. Keri, you get to take that other guy to formal, I get to have unrealistic, shallow crushes. What we have is sooo much better, I promise you have nothing to fear.

P.P.S. Tim, if you find Lauren, don't mention anything about the above P.S. Thanks.

P.P.P.S. Keri, I'm just joking telling Tim that. You're still my favorite.

P.P.P.P.S Tim, seriously though.

Word.

I have a confession to make: I can be a bit of a wordsmith. It will really irk me when someone repeatedly types the wrong word. For example: then, meaning than. I was just reading one of my frequented blogs, Joe Likes Crappy Movies, and he (who owns a website) constantly uses the word "then." So what the people in the hallway just heard was: "DAMN IT. IT'S THAN! THEN IS A TIME, THAN IS COMPARATIVE. If I hear that one more time... gaaah, FUCKING PUBLIC SCHOOLS!" Then they got very quiet, presumably because they were afraid they might use poor grammar.

But my word standards don't just apply to others, but to myself. Stringently. For instance, I really wish I loved Cola because it sounds way cooler to order a Coke, than to say "I'll have a rootbiier" (spelled the way it sounds if said a nerdy manner). Not only that, but one of my favorite ice cream fixin's is sprinkles. There needs to be a more masculine form of this word. I think that might just be the reason I thought that going to get ice cream in the middle of the day for no reason was so... alternatively...oriented? I'm trying not to say "gay" here, but that's about the most succinct way of putting it. And seriously, ssssprinkles? The word itself begs to be said with a lisp.

So for the above mentioned reasons, from this day henceforth, I shall call sprinkles, manly-flakes. And rootbeer? Fake brew. And when someone says "then" meaning "than"? Punch them in the face. Then explain that it's because they're being more annoying than I could stand. I don't think it's too much to ask. While you're at it, any other word peeves feel free to bring up.

- Scott

Short bus? More like FAT BUS

Left late for school today. That's not exactly strange. But I always, always, always make it out in front of the damned school buses. Always until now. I was 15 freaking minutes late because the bus in front of me had to stop every twelve feet to pick up some little fat ass off the stoop in front of their house. God forbid they have to march their chubby little thighs down the street to a central collection point. No! Why don't we just drive across the grass right up to their doors where the forklift operator will lift their 300 pounds of latch-key lard into the bus. Maybe that would be more convenient. Do we even need the pop-out stop sign anymore? They don't even cross the street, the bus turns around to let them out on that side. And really, I think the real danger is bouncing one of the little Gloops into an intersection, which they would completely clog.

In short, I hate buses and the fat-ness of children they promote. Thank you for your time, and good night.

- Scott

Hey moron, you can't even read this.

I was recently at the airport getting ready to board a flight. It was a Southwest flight so the usual cattle feeling of flying a commercial jet was amplified 100 fold. They accomplished this through a series of branding, prodding, and forcing us into three gated lines funneling into the same terminal. One girl was standing next to me and looked up to see she was in the B-line instead of the C, where she was supposed to be. She hurried away saying "I'm dyslexic", while I called after her "I think illiterate would be more appropriate!"

This brings me to my topic: Adult illiteracy. A terrible, sad thing. Even their commercials are sad, with children reading simple things to their parents. But there exists one commercial that isn't sad. One that is, in fact, hilarious. This commercial plays on the radio and I hear it every time I tune in to 89.9 WLCA, College Radio's Best. Here is the paraphrasing of this commercial from memory:

Illiterate Woman: Today I read a birthday card. It was funny and sweet like all birthday cards I guess, but this one was special, it said "I love you" and though I had received it many years ago today I read it for the very first time.
Smug Announcer: If you are an adult who has reading difficulty, you are not alone. Go to www.get-an-idea.com and sign up for our adult reading class.

First of all, no one reads birthday cards. You open them, see if money falls out then put them on the mantle. If the person happens to be watching you, then you put on the reading it and laughing ritously over the contrived, painfully obvious punchline inside act, then thank them. What a fantastic new world she's opened for herself. Secondly, the website? THEY CAN'T READ! How the hell are they supposed to get anything out of your site? Is it all in audio? Because if they can't read I doubt they're pulling down the money for a broadband connection. Also, how are they supposed to spell the URL? Speaking of which "get-an-idea"? Haven't they been through enough, do you really have to rub it in? Why not "public-school-educated-trash.net"? Geez.

And they put it on the radio, so you're sure to understand it. It's not like they could afford a TV spot, or it would have much impact in the paper. Because writing jokes about illiterate people is like shouting offending statements at the deaf. Who, incidentally, can read this. To them I say this: I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking.

Your thoughts?

- Scott

I wish

I totally wish I had something to post about right now. I don't want the readers of Bufford the Wonder Blog to feel like they're dealing with a Jake here. I keep the content a-commin'. But mostly what I'm doing right now isn't blog worthy. It's a lot of the "Oh my God, I have to graduate from college soon... what will I do with the rest of my life" sort of thing. That's what you find on other blogs, I'll have none of it here. Instead, I'll tell you about funny things I've recently overheard at the apartment.

First up: Since Rob is moving in to an apartment here, I decided it would be fun to shout at the office that "he's been living here for months! He isn't moving in at all!" At which point I hear one of the voices of the bitch neighbor's from the third floor saying "Shut your mouth. No, just shut it. Yeah, I want you to shut your big mouth." As this applied to me I was at first caught off guard, then I was ready to hurl insults toward her, before I heard the other roommate fighting with her right back. It had nothing to do with me at all! After I got over the blow to my ego, I eavesdropped until it bored me and went to get a shake. All in all, a good day.

Second: Earlier last month, my upstairs neighbor and I randomly decided to go to the bathroom at the exact same time, the time being 3:00 AM made it all the more random. So I was being quiet trying not to tip her off to my presence. It's always a bit odd being in the bathroom of an apartment with another one stacked on top. You can hear things. In this case I heard what I can only assume was quite a tuba performance. Ever so often there'd be a nice bass note accompanied with a cry of relief, sometimes to the tune of an "oh lordy". ...Shortly afterward I had to leave the bathroom because I was dying of laughter. I'll tell you, being immature is like being drunk. It's fantastic!

- Scott