Yo, yo, yo, yo. LosDogg just emailed me some great pics from back in the day, and I do mean BACK IN THE DAY. Racine Park? Bowling? Jenny (never Jen H.) with a box of MGD on her head? It’s all here for your amusement.
Not much to talk about. SummerSlam is Sunday, and we’re doing it at Ro’s house I guess. They have a big backyard that’s perfect for after-ppv activities such as stone colding beers and giving people Rock Bottoms (~BY GAWD!). Maybe I’ll bring the video camera to this one. hmmm.
Back in the days of high school, there was something called Prom. We went to it, and we made the “Los 4 Life” sign on the couch. Rachel did not seem amused, and her boyfriend was kinda weird.”
This picture was on my dorm room door my whole freshman year of college. Don’t know why, exactly. I think it was because this was one of the only pictures I owned that had me and Paul in it at the same time. Of if you people could have seen that dorm room.
When we were in high school, me and Arlo (and Paul) were in DECA, a marketing club. I liked it because it let me roam the hallways in the school, but other people actually liked to market shit. So once a year everyone went to these competitions where’d you come up with the best way to sell sex to a virgin and shit like that. Holy shit, look at me in this picture (I’m the one on the left).
At the above competition, they had a DJ who would entertain all the suburban white folks who made up DECA. The DJ also had karaoke. So naturally me and Arlo had to do Bust A Move. We had the whole crowd jumpin jumpin until the DJ yelled at arlo for beat boxing into “his $5000 microphone”. Sure DJ, suuuuuuurrreee.
One of our co-workers at the Marriott when we were 15/16/17 years old was Nancy, who was studying to get her Masters in Geology. She was awesome because she was a mid-20s college student who enjoyed hanging out with high schoolers. See also: Miriam. See also: Denise. See also: Joe Feest. Funny story: 5-6 years after the last time I saw Nancy, I was in the Denver airport connecting to San Jose from Milwaukee and she pushed past me running the other way. I yelled out, “NANCY!” She turned around, recognized me, and said “I gotta go!” and ran off. Ahh Nancy, I’ll never see you again.
One night Jenny got really drunk. Yes, a surprise, I know. She ended up with a box on her head. There’s nothing else to say about this.
Later on that same box-filled evening, Jenny, Arlo, and I all enjoyed Taco Bell on the front porch of my parent’s house. Ah those Taco Bell memories.
Not much else to report, Beatrice. Get yo ass down to the slammah and report for duty. I’m out of this parade.
–whazz on, seabiscuit