The Brewer decided to include me in this game, so, here for your reading pleasure, are my Five Weird Habits.
1. Biting my nails: I know, it's a filthy habit, but I can't help it. Whenever I get really nervous I take out my nails and start biting them. Sometimes I forget to turn them horizontally and end up puncturing the roof of my mouth. I have to get tetanus shots all the time. I don't get my nails new at a hardware store either. Sometimes I find them in the trash, sometimes I pull them out of carpentry projects gone wrong, othertimes they're just lying in the street...damn things, it's bad enough they could hurt someone, they could at least tell the truth. They say the most outrageous stuff too:
Andy: Oh sweet, a nail. This'll be good chewin' for later.
Nail: Dude, I SO nailed this totally hot chick last night.
Andy: Wow, that is the worst pun I've ever heard. Except for the one this entire entry is based on...but right now I'm just conversing in the street which I will flashback to later on in life, so I have no idea what I'm talking about. Also, there is no way you slept with a girl...especially a hot one.
Hot Girl: You're absolutely right.
Andy: Wow, you're ugly.
Hot Girl: I know, but the heat in my apartment is stuck on high. And I'm terrified to go outside without my safety-net - this goose down parka.
Andy: (shakes head in frustrated disbelief) I can't believe I'm going to write this crap down in the future, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
2. When pretending to be disabled in order to enjoy discounts on public transportation and get good seats at sporting and other live events, I often slip up and let my athletic or mental prowess take control. Usually I can cover the mess-up by pretending to be retarded. You know, the old bite-your-shoulder-stab-yourself-in-the-heart-with-your-right-hand routine; but that can still leave people skeptical. If I see anybody getting overly suspicious, I start to pretend that whatever it is I have, it is also coupled with turrets syndrome. Usually I'll direct the outbursts at the encroaching sleuth, but if there's a douchebag nearby they serve as a good target as well. At any rate, suffice it to say this habit was one of my New Year's resolutions. I'm even taking acting lessons for it.
3. False Accusations: I'm not sure why, but I've got this crazy notion that people with "handicaps" are completely faking it. This habit is directly related to that assumption. What I tend to do is loudly, crudely, and verbosely accuse people of being crip imposters. One time I pushed a blind person into the street. He was just standing there and happened to know that traffic was whizzing by. I was outraged.
Andy: Hey blindy!
Blindy: What's up my man?
Andy: How did you know someone was talking to you?!
Blindy: What?
Andy: Oh now you act blind, I said - HOW DID YOU KNOW SOMEONE WAS TALKING TO YOU?
Blindy: Uh, I'm blind, not deaf. I could hear you behind me.
Andy: THEN HOW COME YOU DON'T STROLL INTO THE TRAFFIC?
Blindy: Please stop shouting! I can tell traffic is going because the crosswalk signs beep to indicate if traffic is in motion.
Andy: OH I GET IT. WELL HAVE A NICE DA--- (Andy lunges at Blindy and shoves him into the street.) BET YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT ONE COMING!
Blindy: (As he gets hit by a car...don't worry, it's moving slow enough to be funny rather than tragic) No! Because I'm BLIND!
Andy: What a lyin' jerk. He so flinched before that car hit him.
4. I'm always damning The Man. I feel kinda bad about this one. I mean here this guy is working hard to make those paper stacks, and all I do is damn him. Granted he may opress some people, and sure he's probably a little racist and a bit of a bigot, but instead of condemning him to hell we should really try and educate him. Maybe if we treat him with a little respect and take a more kindly approach to making him see all the people he's doing wrong he can make a turn for the better...of course, that honky bastard would probably just turn a deaf ear on us....a FAKE deaf ear, and you know how I feel about that.
5. My last habit is kicking too much ass. I like to think of myself as a fairly even-keeled chap, mindful and respectful of the actions, good or bad, of others. But sometimes things go just a little too far. Like this one time, when terrorists kidnapped my family. They left a note with a phone number to call so I set up my audio recording gear and gave it a ring. I tried to be as reasonable as I could:
Terrorist: Hullo?
Andy: Hey Terrorist, what did you do with my family?
Terrorist: We have them here. We demand you call your friend, Mr. President, and send us 1 billion dollars for their safe return.
Andy: Dude, listen. I have this really bad habit of whooping ass when people pressure me into calling the President. Once my buddy Jake* and I got real hammered and he was like 'Dude you should SO call the President!' and I was all like 'No way man, that'd be CRAZY!' and, well to make a long story short I didn't call the President, but W. had 13 pizzas sent to his house that night. I woke up the next morning with that feeling, you know, where you're like all regretful because you've done something you shouldn't have when you were drunk? So I called up the White House and was like 'Hey G-dub, look man I'm sorry I sent all those pizzas to your house,' and he was all 'Dude that was YOU?! You crazy bastard! No it's cool man, I can afford those johns. We had a pretty swingin' party actually. Condi was there and we messed with Cheney BIG TIME cause bro's not allowed to eat that shit anymore.' So I guess it turned out okay but -
Terrorist: click
Andy: Did you just hang up on me or did you just say click?
Terrorist:.......
Andy:.......
Terrorist:......
Andy:..................................all right, that's it. My patience is a ticking time-bomb, and you just cut the red wire!
I analyzed the audio I had recorded and heard distinct sounds in the background indicating where my family was being held (my Dad was whispering the address the whole time in Morse Code). I got to the address and quickly disarmed and beheaded the two exterior guards, then grabbed their guns. Then it just became an unfair battle.
Between all the round-housing, back-flipping, head shots, and general kung-fu-ery, I was able to untie my Dad, Chopper Dave, and send him to get the terrorist helicopter warmed up and ready to fly. I shared some brief and witty tough-guy words with the main terrorist and then kicked him so hard he flew through the back of the warehouse wall into the ocean....on fire. Dad then choppered us all safely to the White House for which, during my intense and epic battle with the terrorists, I had ordered 15 pizzas.
We landed right as the pizzas arrived and I asked G-dub: 'Hey buddy, I took the Liberty of inciting another pizza party. Do you mind?' W. only shook his head smiling and said with some retrospect, "Nigga please....nigga please."
*Damned if I know who Jake is...oh crap, maybe I'm the man!|||113778963986390074|||Five Weird Habits
|||Just found your blog and went through the achives......this post had me laughing so hard that I am now crying at work. Awesome. Simply awesome
Andy|||Thanks! Glad you liked it.