Tuesday, February 13, 2007
For your consideration.
Alrighty boys and toys. The time has come to let you in on a little secret. Papa Bear's back in the States. That's right. Holed-up in Madison, Wisconsin of all places. The frozen tundra, the Badger State, America's Dairyland, the Cheesehead State, the land of milk and....well, more fucking milk. What brings a world traveller like myself to such humble abodes as this, you might ask? Well, if any of you know me, then you fear me. And if you fear me, then you respect me. And if you respect me, then you venerate me. And if you know what venerate means, then you're probably not one of my friends because most of my friends are soulless, toothless hicks. If you're one of the few that have passed through my filter of continence unscathed, then you have passed a mighty test indeed.
Welcome True Friend. From now on, I'll just call you Thomas Friedman to keep your anonymity and sanctity intact. So, Thomas Friedman, you're curious about why I moved to Madison, eh? Well, Thomas Friedman, let me tell you a little story about Big Boy Lion and Big Girl Fox. One day in the Forest, or the Bush, or the Savannah, or wherever the hell lions and foxes live in harmony with each other. Wait, lions hunt foxes? Fuck. Lets just pretend for one goddamned minute that one doesn't live in fear of the other so I can get through this horribly-structured parable about how lions and foxes are really in love with each other and they left the Outback to try to live in peace and harmony in Madison, Wisconsin and go to school and earn a little bit of money and help people with developmental disabilities and party with college kids and go to concerts and eat a whole lotta no meat and lay in bed all weekend watching Deepak Chopra DVDs, but mostly just every single goddamned episode of Sex and the City. Oh, I guess I just did. Damnit. I guess I don't have to talk down to you, Thomas Friedman. You understand in perfect English what's going on. You're great. You really are a True Friend. Kinda like Carrie (sane one) and Samantha (the slutty one) and Miranda (the cynical one) and Charlotte (the crazy one) are true friends. Gosh, Thomas Friedman, if you and I were on Sex and the City, who would we be? Wait, I know! I'd be Miranda because I'm always so self-conscious about my body and eager to let people in, but so angry when it doesn't work out, and you'd be Carrie, not because you're sane, Thomas Friedman, but because Carrie and Miranda are best friends! True friends, you might even say. And that's us, Thomas Friedman, True Friends! Ok, now if you were a guy on Sex and the City, who would you be? I know what you're thinking, you'd be Big. No way, Thomas Friedman! While you have the looks and the debonair of that macho studcake, you'd have the sensitivty to introduce me to your mother at Church and you'd never marry some bimbo you met in Paris and then sleep around on her with me. No, you'd definitely be Aiden! You have the suave and silk of Big, but the down-home country good looks and morals of Jerry Falwell. I think I'd be Steve because I'm some kinda adorable and good-natured with just the right pinch of a wild hair mixed in with bookishness that appeals to someone like Miranda. And then we, Aiden and Steve, can date other, more attractive women than Carrie and Miranda and open up a bar together and be together forever! Oh, Thomas Friedman, won't it be grand!!??!!
As you can see, I have big plans for us, Thomas Friedman. But in the meantime, I'm up here in Madison with Meghan learning about all kinds of things. Like how girls work. And what to do when 5 girls are watching Bad Girls Club.
Hint: rhymes with "Snow in your boom and salivate."
After my lessons are finished, I'll be leaving the allegorical cave, or in this case a den (10 comprehensive reading points for why) and making a pilgrimmage down south to share my lessons with any and all who care to listen/trapped on balcony of the apartments while I'm telling someone else. Alumni weekend. be there or be scared.
In the meantime, here's a video that is of the utmost importance and urgency for those without the giggles.
Welcome True Friend. From now on, I'll just call you Thomas Friedman to keep your anonymity and sanctity intact. So, Thomas Friedman, you're curious about why I moved to Madison, eh? Well, Thomas Friedman, let me tell you a little story about Big Boy Lion and Big Girl Fox. One day in the Forest, or the Bush, or the Savannah, or wherever the hell lions and foxes live in harmony with each other. Wait, lions hunt foxes? Fuck. Lets just pretend for one goddamned minute that one doesn't live in fear of the other so I can get through this horribly-structured parable about how lions and foxes are really in love with each other and they left the Outback to try to live in peace and harmony in Madison, Wisconsin and go to school and earn a little bit of money and help people with developmental disabilities and party with college kids and go to concerts and eat a whole lotta no meat and lay in bed all weekend watching Deepak Chopra DVDs, but mostly just every single goddamned episode of Sex and the City. Oh, I guess I just did. Damnit. I guess I don't have to talk down to you, Thomas Friedman. You understand in perfect English what's going on. You're great. You really are a True Friend. Kinda like Carrie (sane one) and Samantha (the slutty one) and Miranda (the cynical one) and Charlotte (the crazy one) are true friends. Gosh, Thomas Friedman, if you and I were on Sex and the City, who would we be? Wait, I know! I'd be Miranda because I'm always so self-conscious about my body and eager to let people in, but so angry when it doesn't work out, and you'd be Carrie, not because you're sane, Thomas Friedman, but because Carrie and Miranda are best friends! True friends, you might even say. And that's us, Thomas Friedman, True Friends! Ok, now if you were a guy on Sex and the City, who would you be? I know what you're thinking, you'd be Big. No way, Thomas Friedman! While you have the looks and the debonair of that macho studcake, you'd have the sensitivty to introduce me to your mother at Church and you'd never marry some bimbo you met in Paris and then sleep around on her with me. No, you'd definitely be Aiden! You have the suave and silk of Big, but the down-home country good looks and morals of Jerry Falwell. I think I'd be Steve because I'm some kinda adorable and good-natured with just the right pinch of a wild hair mixed in with bookishness that appeals to someone like Miranda. And then we, Aiden and Steve, can date other, more attractive women than Carrie and Miranda and open up a bar together and be together forever! Oh, Thomas Friedman, won't it be grand!!??!!
As you can see, I have big plans for us, Thomas Friedman. But in the meantime, I'm up here in Madison with Meghan learning about all kinds of things. Like how girls work. And what to do when 5 girls are watching Bad Girls Club.
Hint: rhymes with "Snow in your boom and salivate."
After my lessons are finished, I'll be leaving the allegorical cave, or in this case a den (10 comprehensive reading points for why) and making a pilgrimmage down south to share my lessons with any and all who care to listen/trapped on balcony of the apartments while I'm telling someone else. Alumni weekend. be there or be scared.
In the meantime, here's a video that is of the utmost importance and urgency for those without the giggles.
