My Relapse, Part II
So there we were, riding in a van to the big kickboxing bout. It was kind of fun at first. We sang along to the radio and played a few car games. Pat O'Brien led a round of "Who am I?" Whitney Houston figured out he was Billy Bush on the 9th guess. Not too bad.
And you wouldn't think it, but Bobby Brown is a very good driver. I was nervous at first, as his track record doesn't suggest he'd be the world's best driver, but he studiously obeyed all the street signs and light signals.
"You're a good driver," I told him, hoping he wouldn't reply by asking me if I was a homo again.
"Gotta be," he said.
"Yep, road safety is an important thing."
"That and this van is jacked," Bobby Brown said. "Can't risk running a light and getting busted by the 5-0."
"Oh," I said, looking around and suddenly realizing I was in a floral delivery van. There were old stems and petals everywhere.
I asked Pat O'Brien if he knew the van was stolen.
"Yep," he said. "KaBloom!"
"I wish you had told me beforehand," I said.
"What, bro? Can't handle the thug life?" He lifted his shirt as if to reveal a tattoo on his stomach. There wasn't one.
"No," I said.
"Me neither," Pat O'Brien replied.
And then he buried his face in his hands and cried.
So there we were, riding in a van to the big kickboxing bout. It was kind of fun at first. We sang along to the radio and played a few car games. Pat O'Brien led a round of "Who am I?" Whitney Houston figured out he was Billy Bush on the 9th guess. Not too bad.
And you wouldn't think it, but Bobby Brown is a very good driver. I was nervous at first, as his track record doesn't suggest he'd be the world's best driver, but he studiously obeyed all the street signs and light signals.
"You're a good driver," I told him, hoping he wouldn't reply by asking me if I was a homo again.
"Gotta be," he said.
"Yep, road safety is an important thing."
"That and this van is jacked," Bobby Brown said. "Can't risk running a light and getting busted by the 5-0."
"Oh," I said, looking around and suddenly realizing I was in a floral delivery van. There were old stems and petals everywhere.
I asked Pat O'Brien if he knew the van was stolen.
"Yep," he said. "KaBloom!"
"I wish you had told me beforehand," I said.
"What, bro? Can't handle the thug life?" He lifted his shirt as if to reveal a tattoo on his stomach. There wasn't one.
"No," I said.
"Me neither," Pat O'Brien replied.
And then he buried his face in his hands and cried.
posted by Adam at 4/26/2005 07:40:00 AM
7 Comments:
man dis blog be nothin but bewlshit. I thought I wuz gettin the inside skoop on my gurl Whitney only to finally see that you just be makin all this bewlshit up. This is harsh man.
FUNNY AS HELL!
Ah yeahh. Relapse and breakout. Where's the hookers,beer and blow?
...bingorage...
and spaghetti...throw the hot spaghetti on me
yeeeessss!!!
You are so THUG and don't even know it.
KaBloom....priceless
He's Been SPRUNG from rehab!!!! Now what? Will this merely be a cliffhanger, or the end of the series? Fretting officially begins....NOW!
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