So I’ve been doing this moving thing. Moving, it’s the opposite of fun. Like something akin to stopping a random passerby and asking if you may take a five second whiff of their armpit; like really root around in there for a full fiver. I’d prefer to do that over moving, that’s the degree of hatred we’re talkin’. -although my new home is rather dashing. i’m now in love with being a homeowner. For now, check back with me later.-
Frankly, I could dream up an entire list of things I’d rather be doing with my time. Given the choice, I would prefer several activities to moving. Perhaps even unsavory choices that may land me in jail for a night. Course everyone has their threshold/price for daring escapades, and we’ve all had those completely hypothetical (typically drunken or THC laden) conversations such as: “Dude for a fifty bucks would you eat that?” -as they motion toward a can of Alpo- Briefly you think: ‘What’s the worst that could happen? My dog eats it and he’s cool.’
I find it rather amusing when people say, ‘I wouldn’t do xyz for allllll the money in the world!’
Really? c’mon. really?…let’s not pretend that chugging a beer from a dirty boot is beneath you for five grand. Five thousand clams, people. Let’s hypothetically say that kind of money is sitting on your kitchen table for the taking and you’re faced with the option…if I were a bettin’ girl, I’d imagine within moments you’d find yourself asking: “Where’s my bib and that dang boot everyone’s carryin’ on about?!”
So today I’m here for a few reasons, mostly to talk about things I would do for five grand. Several of these I would do for free, although my price may vary depending on the lack of shame I possess on any given day and said task’s propensity for landing me in the clink. Let’s begin.
1. Rip a breakstand on a church lawn. Really tear that shit up. I’m talking large chunks of flying turf sent airborne. Exit car that you leave parked on the lawn -preferably a shitbox with a black hefty bag concealing a busted window-. Encourage high fives and fist bumps as you make your grand entrance -in a half shirt, mullet optional-. Once the offering plate comes along, dig into that bad larry to make change for a dollar, then announce you’re leaving for twenty-five cent wings and a free titty show.
2. This one’s for the gents. Tape up the junk. Like really plaster that shit up. Find the most revealing of speedos, tape a gumdrop or small nub like object where said junk would ordinarily be. Strap on the ol’ speedo and proudly prance about your local public swimming pool. Stand uncomfortably close to those sunbathing, completely shameless. Perhaps fashion a cape that reads, “Captain Gumdrop”. You know, real conspicuous like.
3. When a telemarketer calls, don’t hang up, stick around and chat. Hunker on down for a spell on the couch and really yuck that shit up. You know, let them carry on about whatever wares their pushing for a few, then randomly break into song: “Islands in the stream, that is what we are, no one in between, how can we be wrong?” Encourage the person to sing “Dolly’s part”. Once you’ve finished encourage them to speak more about their product, after a minute or two abruptly announce: “I gotta go now, I need to cook some beans.”
4. At the super market check out line, hold up two different brands of lubricant, candidly discuss a poor sexual experience. Ask their honest opinion on which brand they would suggest to “reduce shrinkage”. When they call management, deny everything.
5. Go to one of those anti gay bible thumpin’ church rallies, with a young mercenary of sorts… as he would likely receive a beat down (totally worth it), encourage the young lad to hold a sign which states: “The guy standing to my right likes the D, ask me about his sore ass and my video proof.” Before leaving place rainbow bumper stickers on all of their cars. tell no one.
In similar fashion, find one of those “Westboro Baptist” rallies, place similar bumper stickers on all cars which read: “I fuck goats.” Both this activity and the latter, I consider a public service really.
6. Tie a raw pork chop around your neck. Walk down a scary dark road. No flash light. Just you, your cojones, and a danglin’ chop. You have a thirty minute start, then we release the wild hounds.
7. Find a car with an window open, any car really… it doesn’t matter, jump through the window in dramatic fashion; while singing the chorus to “Dukes of Hazard”. Jump wildly around in your seat clasping the wheel singing, “just the good ol’ boys”. When the cops show up, call him: ‘boss hog’ and chortle.
8. Eat a live spider. -this one i would need full payment for- Also, for this one, there would be a size requirement, at least quarter sized. That little furry bastard needs to go down live and kickin’, and no ketchup to taste, folks. Actually, I’m not entirely sure I would accept payment for this, in fact, I’m nearly certain one would have to dramatically up the ante.
I know this reeks of fear factor type quality, but just imagine the sheer horror. For me, my mental capacity precipitously diminishes to the likes of a seven year old girl when I see a daddy long legs. It aint right. I’m ok with it.
9. Go to the zoo, ask the zookeeper for a bucket of gorilla poo. You know, really scrape the ol’ corners down. Package and send it to your ex, with a card that reads: “lunch is on me”. complete with smiley face or heart. The one caveat, since gorillas likely produce a copious amount of poo, shipping could get to be a bit much. But this one, I’d do for free and enjoy. A lot.
10. Invite over the in laws for dinner, bring up the word nutsack and penis seam in random conversation. This I’ve already done for free, it’s hilarious. Trust. The stone cold silence is mind numbing.
11. Drop a clunker in your kid’s potty training toilet. Inconspicuously place the training potty complete with deuce inside your neighbor’s car. Knock on your neighbor’s door the following day and ask: “Have you seen my toilet?” ( i know this one’s pretty gross, but just imagine the hilarious rage? that is if you don’t like your neighbor, and you don’t mind risking arrest.) as an aside, my OCD kicked in having an odd numbered “eleven” item at the end of this list. meh…
let’s finish up with this shall we? just because. thanks for stopping by folks.