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Authors: David Cross

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BOOK: I Drink for a Reason
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Has a BB lodged in his/her neck

Was a child star in Canada

Got shit on by G. G. Allin

Got hit on by G. G. Allin

Got sat on by G. G. Allin

Only wears kilts

Lost right testicle jumping hurdles in high school

Was an integral part of making the world’s largest Denver Omelette

Responsible for team losing the 400-meter relay in swimming at the Seoul Olympics

Semen tastes and smells like Grade-A maple syrup

Once a year reads the New Testament aloud atop Mt. Rushmore

Yells at geese

Won’t poo on a plane

Only listens to reel-to-reel

Has an encyclopedic knowledge of the Gobi Desert

Graduated
summa cum laude
from M.I.T. at age ten

Like her brothers and sisters, was conceived at a NASCAR race

Father jailed for stabbing a mall Santa

Father was stabbed to death while working as a mall Santa

Survived Nagasaki but not 9/11

Does Jeff Mangum’s taxes

Pilot of helicopter that decapitated Vic Morrow

Has a nostril fetish

Raised by fish

Believes
The Vagina Monologues
are real

Believes in a Sun God

Legally tried to have their astrology sign changed, which went all the way to federal court

Thought of the idea for
Survivor
but never pitched it

Came in second place at “The Living Statue” awards in Montreal in 2007

Meets with Bob Odenkirk at the Koo-Koo-Roo on Larchmont once a week

Related to the Donner Party

Quit long-time, well-paying bank CFO job to join Clown College

Has a micro-penis

Spent two months in jail for defacing the Wailing Wall with “Yankees #1!”

Jerks off to the fantasy of Will Smith jerking off to him

Aunt invented the pocket fan

As a baby, threw up on Pat Moynihan

Truly believes that he or she is a werewolf

Killed his Grandma, no one knows

Brian Eno’s nephew or niece

Secretly lives in a mall

Youngest scholarship to Dartmouth ever

Shot in the ass, bullet still there

Saved the life of a retarded child

Born with no sense of smell

Saved the life of a retarded child born with no sense of smell

Can name every capital of every country in the world

Does “extra” work but solely in porn films

Spit on President Bush’s food in diner once

Shit himself while getting his first blowjob

Cousin was killed by Laura Bush

Killed and ate a dolphin

Was “possessed” as a child and had to be “exorcized”

Kidnapped by Farq rebels

Won $18,000 on
Wheel of Fortune

Received a donor kidney by a murderer on death row

Has not spoken but only whistled since 9/11

Can only achieve orgasm through anal sex

Home brews their own sake

Father invented Krazy Glue but sold the rights for just five hundred dollars

Fucked a hamburger on a dare

Has 5-20 vision

Allergic to darkness

Has a thing for astronauts

Is a white person with sickle-cell anemia

Sings in their sleep

Collects beer cans, deli meat packages, hotel “do not disturb” signs, toenail clippings from around the world, high school
yearbooks, used HIV test envelopes, international audio recordings of people sneezing, kaddish candles, racist weather vanes

Grew up in a tree house

OKAY—Wait a second. These are all good and fine if you are making an “indie” movie in the 1990s or early aughts, but that’s
not gonna cut it anymore. As a culture we’ve become inured to so many random quirks. If you’re going to make an indie movie
these days you need to seriously up the quirk. I recommend doubling up. You should take any of the above and combine them
to make your uninteresting movie slightly less uninteresting. For example: Grew up in a Biosphere
and
fucked Courtney Love. Or, Mom was a truck-stop prostitute
and
was a precociously inventive cook at age eleven. Hahaha! That’s from J. T. Leroy!!!! Who it turned out is not really real!!!!!
Oh shit! Meta-quirk!!!!!!

Sitting on a Pole Trying to Win Some Money

W
ELL
,
HERE
I
AM
. I
DO FEEL GOOD ABOUT ONE THING
. O
NLY
three people besides me are left. And so I know that I’m gonna win something, even if it’s just the Ani DiFranco tickets.
I just wish it wouldn’t take so long. I know that’s part of the whole deal, but anyway, that’s what I wish. Wish? Try pray.
That’s what I pray for. I don’t think I’ve ever prayed so hard in my life. That’s not true. I remember praying this hard when
I was twelve and got caught with Travis Montgomery in his basement smoking cigarettes and we had our penises out and we were
looking at a
Playboy.
Travis already had pubic hair then. He was the one who wanted to do the circle jerk, not me, just for the record. Wow. Why
am I thinking about that stuff? I’m a grown man. Enough. Concentrate. If I can last longer than these young clowns, and I
will, then I drive away with a new Chevy half-ton “Destroyer.” Loaded. Easy. Larrisa thinks I’m nuts and that I won’t do it.
Or she thinks I
can’t
do it, is more like it. Of all the things we’ve been through, I think that says more than everything else. She truly thinks
I
can’t
do it. I know I can. There’s the difference right there. Hey, if nothing else I got tickets to go see a singer or a band
named Ani DiFranco.

I can tell that this little shit two poles over ain’t gonna make it past the hour. She’s skinny, weak, and hungry and starting
to get a little crazy. She’s been singing some song in Arabic or something like that. Maybe Jewish? She didn’t bring warm
enough clothes, either, and it’s supposed to snow again tonight. I was smart and ate a pound of pure fatback before getting
up here. I got fat to burn! I also coated my arms with Crisco so I’ll be warm, and since I was smart and got the butter-flavored
kind I’ll be able to sneak a snack in every once in a while. Hard to believe it’s only been three days. It seems like I’ve
been up here for a month. Outside of running out of poo room in my pants, I feel pretty good about my situation. It is boring,
though. Even with all the people shouting at us. I wish they didn’t put us up so high so that I could actually have a conversation
with folks, or at least hear what they’re saying. Five hundred feet is one of those abstract distances that you can only gauge
with context. By itself you can’t really conceive of it.

But here I am, a football field and a half straight up in the sky sitting on a 6 x 6 piece of reinforced plywood. I didn’t
count on how cold it was gonna be with the wind and all. But I need that truck. What’s the second-place prize? Fuck, I can’t
believe I forgot. It’s a year’s supply of something. Noodles? Pimentos? No, it’s something for around the house. Windex maybe?
Whatever it is, I’m not settling for it. How much Windex do you use in a year anyway? Three or four bottles at most, right?

The funny thing is I don’t even listen to Wade and the Cowgirl and hardly ever listen to the station at all. I’m not much
for today’s modern country. Some of it I like, but I’ll take the classics any day. The Hanks, Snow and Williams. Earnest Tubbs,
even Jim Reeves. Those are the greats. These damn D.J.’s don’t know when to shut up with all their guffawing and silly noises
and Britney Spears jokes. I had the thing on “scan” and it landed on them talking about the truck giveaway and I locked on.
Sounded simple enough. Be the last one down from their pole. Not easy, mind you, but simple. That’s the key, no math or anything
that had to be figured out. My kind of contest. When I told Larrisa about it she thought I’d never do it. I think that’s what
motivated me to go sign up even. I drove down to Duggan Chevy and did it right then and there. Now here I am, sitting on a
pole trying to win some money. Or a truck, rather, but I like to look at it as free money. Because not only will I have a
new truck, but I can sell my Dodge “Lacerater” to Marshal and Donna at Lotions For Less and pocket the cash. Pure profit.
I wish I didn’t have this song stuck in my head. I don’t even know what it is. I know that Flap Montgomery sings it. I guess
it’s called “That’s the Third Time that I’ve Twice Won Your Heart,” cause that’s the chorus part. Oh, I get it now. It’s like
third, twice, and the “won” part means “one,” like the number one. Today’s country songs do that a lot. That’s what I was
talking about before. I really… Holy shit! What the hell is this about!? There’s a helicopter dropping eggs on us! What the
fuck?! Good God! It’s from the goddmamned radio station! There’s a big ol’ helicopter with a Star 96.7 logo on it and… that’s
Wade! He’s throwing eggs at us. What’s that? It’s… is that… it’s the mayor! Jesus, he’s got a gun! Fucking hell! Where’s the
Cowgirl? Is she part of this? This can’t be right. What are they doing Oh sweet Jesus and Jenny! They shot the Jew girl! How
do I get down from here? Wait, no. Fuck that! This is a test. I ain’t quittin’. I need that truck.

Concentrate, goddammit. Now, there’s just three of us left. Ow! Fucking hell! Is that pepper spray? And… pineapples? They’re
throwing pineapples at us? There’s no way this was mentioned in that contract thing we signed. Why didn’t I read that thing?
Note to self: Read contracts thoroughly from now on! Oh! Someone is lowering a rope? Thank God. Or is this a trick? Oh, God!
The Korean War vet just jumped off! Oh God, oh God. He just jumped on his own. Hey, just two left! I’ll at least get the window
cleaner. Oh, come on now, I gotta stick this out. There’s a blimp, too? Why is there a blimp? That rope is… not a rope! It’s
a fucking snake! Shit! Ahhhh, it’s on me!! I don’t get this?! Why???? Get it off me! The blimp is opening up! There’s a cargo
door opening! Oh, thank sweet cousin Jesus! I’m being rescued! This must be one of those prank reality shows! Ha ha! I get
it! The blimp is… wait, is that an old Australian man’s flabby ass sticking out of it? Is that… Oh, my God!!!

Didja Know?
Crazy True Fun True True Facts

Eggs are the only food that are both nutritious and mathematically impossible!

If the Sears Tower in Chicago was made entirely out of buttons, it would be the world’s tallest building made entirely out
of buttons!

Butte, Montana, is home to the world’s second largest nickel!

It takes more muscles and longer to say, “No, thank you” than it does to not!

Children are America’s future and the elderly are America’s past and 42-year-olds are its present!

The word
fucktwit
was coined by Harriet Tubman after a shitty bath!

In Georgia, it is illegal for a man to secretly find another man attractive!

The best way to get cum stains out of your hair is with simple peanut butter and very complex soda water!

Although we are taught that blood is thicker than water, on the moon, the reverse is true!

If birds could swim, that’d be awesome! Also, they’d most likely be penguins!

Contrary to the common belief that Mexico is home to more explosive diarrhea than any other nation, surprisingly it’s actually
Austria!

You cannot legally fold something more than twice in Canada!

The only two chemicals found in Dippin’ Dots, the unpopular ice cream, are polyhexachlorine and deliciousness!

A quick, and surefire way to tell if you are psychic is whether you are susceptible to coincidence!

In China, it is illegal to try to change your astrology sign.

In the great state of Alaska, fetuses have exactly as many rights as Tonya Gumm, a sixteen-year-old who was raped by Dupree
Bellsmith, a retired pipe fitter with the local 173 and registered sex offender who was recently released from prison early
due to overcrowding, and actually slightly more than D’nesh Bhowmik, a recent émigré and tech support worker for the United
Nations!

I Hate America! or, I Hate America?

I’
VE BEEN ACCUSED OF

HATING
A
MERICA
.” N
OT DIRECTLY
,
BUT
by association. Because I don’t agree with the majority of pundits and radio talk show hosts and various columnists and bloggers
in the mass media—that is to say, on the right wing side of things. But I
do
agree (most of the time) with the diametrically philosophically opposed on the left of that media spectrum. I like reading
Paul Krugman and Greg Sargent and Markos Moulitsas. I usually feel enlightened and not merely pandered to. I try my best to
be aware of easy emotional manipulation. And I do enjoy listening to Sean Hannity and Mark Levin and Rush Limbaugh but mostly
for the entertainment value. For instance, I remember once hearing Sean Hannity talk about exorcisms in the Catholic Church
(this is for real). A fundamental part of the conversation was the tacitly understood idea that exorcisms were legitimate.
Imagine! A grown man treating the idea of exorcising the “Devil” out of some mentally ill elderly woman as a real thing. Crazy!
*
You’re not gonna find crazy gold like that on Air America.

Personally, and I am being absolutely honest here, I have never felt like I hated America. Not even in my acid-dropping, Hunter
S. Thompson–reading, angry punk-listening days. I would even say that maybe, just maybe, I love America. Much like the conflicted
love one might have for an abusive parent or caretaker with a bipolar condition making them capable of true empathy and magnanimous
compassion while meting out cold, unsympathetic, financial “tough love” lessons. My feelings about my country are in the spirit
of caring about a fucked-up friend whose condition you hope doesn’t get so bad that they end up on A&E’s
Intervention.
I do have a number of negative observations and complaints about America’s domestic and foreign policies and what I would
hope against hope would be seen as legitimate questions and/or constructive criticism and not virulent anger spewed and screamed
from a clinically insane lunatic fringe lefty, communist moon bat or whatever invective Michelle Malkin is using today.

BOOK: I Drink for a Reason
2.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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