Looks like this broad is headed to the Calgary Stampede. For 10 luxurious days in July, I’m (finally) headed out West and (finally) have an excuse to purchase a cute pair of low-rise cowboy boots. Let’s get one thing straight though, I don’t particularly like country music and I will not be watching the rodeos involving bulls (I think what they do to those poor animals to get them to buck should be straight up illegal). I am going because I need a flipping vacation, one of my best friends is going out there to see her sister (whom I fantastically enjoy) and I also have a friend out there that I have not seen in years (who just happens to be friends with said sister…did you get all that?). There is also the fact that it will be one big party and I am due for some of that like Lindsay Lohan is due for a good car swiping incident (seriously though, where have her daily hit and runs been? My world is all eschew). I’m thinking, a week-long rendition of the movie Project X (if you have not seen this movie, please do so. It pains me to live in a world where next to no one understands what I am talking about when I bring this movie up. Stop watching shitty Tom Cruise* be in shitty action movies and engage in some funny bone tickling. Yes, I meant for that to sound sexual. Yes, I am thinking about a guy tickling my funny bone right now. Yes, it’s Ryan Gosling. Yes, I am talking about my va jay jay. Yes, I stole that from Grey’s Anatomy. Now, start at the beginning of this post and take a shot every time I say the word ‘Yes’. You’re welcome. Yes.). Anyways, as I was saying, I need some non-interrupted by work, parents, responsibility, boys, work, my internal monologue, work, type of fun.
Realistically, shit will never get Project X crazy, because I have an 80 year old living inside of me. I swear to you, every day she gets out a little more and more. The only thing I am slightly hesitant on is the flying aspect. Due to some stomach-turning turbulence the last time I was on a plane, I had a solid 20 seconds of thinking that I might die. This thought was only interrupted because of some shitty kid in front of me commenting on how “cool” the mix of plummeting and rough bumps were. My mind went from the thought of dying to the thought of killing. I should actually be grateful for that child. He got my mind off my own mortality and into my “you’re an idiot” mode, which is my general every day mindset. A second thank you goes out to the guy I was with. Your ability to fly (pun intended) into the fetal position while transforming into a 12 year old girl was truly outstanding. Most people would find this unattractive, but not I. I was trying to come up with creative ways in which I could sneak in one last shag with him while he had his head buried between his knees. I decided that it would take some serious Kama Sutra shit that I was definitely not privy to and just rubbed his back instead. Basically, I was going to die a hero. Within about 10 minutes the flight smoothed out and I was back to thinking about how dry the bun was on the turkey sandwiches that they served us. They should really fix that shit. These are the important things in life.
Anyways, my point is, I never want to experience that again. Fortunately, I won’t let some methed-out turbulence stop me from venturing to the great city that is Calgary….I will just make sure to get drunk or consume some Percocet (or in lieu of that, three Gravol tablets) beforehand. Here’s looking at you, Calgary Stampede.
*Tom Cruise, if you are reading this, I love you….and all of your movies….even War of the Worlds, which I would never call long and boring. I also really dig Scientology, especially because it keeps John Travolta in the closet. I don’t think I could properly deal with Danny Zuco admitting he was gay. My world is already in shambles over the lack of celebrity car crashes, I don’t need this too. And for the record, I always hated Joey Potter.
P.S. I know that at the ripe age of 27, I may be too old for you, but the next time you hold a casting call for your next wife, I promise to be first in line.