Wednesday, February 21, 2007

For those of us who need it...

... here's the butt dance.

Better days are ahead, people. Keep an eye out and do the butt dance until then.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Nothing's changed, except I can afford video games now.

Earlier today, I ran into a guy I hadn’t even thought about in more than ten years. We’d gone to school together, first through twelvth twelveth twelefth 12th. As did everyone, he did more better in english class that I.

Anyway, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his last name (and I don’t even have the pregnancy brain excuse to hide behind). But we shook hands, gave each other the ten second update on the last decade, and parted ways – he went back to his laptop, and I went back to my desk to replace everything on my calendar with a day long appointment entitled: Mutter “What The Eff Was His Last Name???” To Myself.

There was no getting around it, unfortunately. By the time I got home, I had to pull out the yearbook. And the one I found wasn’t even the good yearbook. Most theologians agree that on the 8th day, after a bit of a rest, God made the word “awkward” in anticipation of Mike Garvey’s sophomore year. As usual, He was right on the money.

Or so I thought.

After tearing past my gangly drama club photo to get to this kid’s last name (that was me you heard yelling “THAT’S what it is!” around 6pm tonight), Lisa took a turn leafing through and reading the little notes my classmates left for me. Here’s pretty much how it went down:

LISA: Man, you had a lot of women chasing you in high school, huh?
ME: Yes. With machetes.
LISA: No seriously. All these girls wanted you.
ME: What are you talking about? Most of those girls didn’t even know me. My mom had to pay them to sign my yearbook.
LISA: Right. So when Susan wrote “Dear Mike, I’m so glad we became belly-button-friends because you’re sooooooo cute!”, it was only because your mom slipped her a twenty?
ME: What? Susan said what now? Jesus. I don’t even remember that. (Garvey’s Note: Which is true – I made every effort to keep my belly and the rest of world as separated as possible.)
LISA: And your mom must have really ponied up for Alice to write “Dear Mike, I’ll never forget you and the bus rides home after school. We really should go see that movie one of these days. I’ll be waiting for you to call!” Mike, she’s waiting for you to call.
ME: Alice? Alice? Who the fuck was Alice? She probably wrote that for all the nerds. Because I think I would have remembered a girl talking to me. Especially on a bus.
LISA: Mike, you’re delusional. Look at all of these. Here’s a flirty one. Here’s another. Here’s another. Here’s one in poetry-
ME: Look, I was a flirt, I know that. I was the chubby kid who tried desperately to be your best friend just in case it turned out that was the best way to get a peek at your bra. (Garvey’s Note: This is true, too. It was a shot in the dark and rarely worked. No wait, I mean never. It never worked.) What you’re reading here is a cross section of a dark era for me, a sample of unlucky adolescent girls who were kind enough to remember my feeble attempts at flirtation simply for the purposes of getting something relevant down on paper.
LISA: Mike. This is what girls write when they want you to ask them out, dumbass.
ME: ... So, you’re saying as early as sophomore year, I could have gotten some?
LISA: If you were kidding about your mom paying these girls off, then evidently you could have gotten lots.
ME: ...
LISA: ...
ME: But I...
LISA: ...
MAEVE: Gonna go ahead and back mom up on this one, dumbass.
ME: Son of a bitch. So, want to call Alice?

If something gets in your way... turn.

Maeve always wants to be just like her big cousin.

Thanks to Nana and Aunt Mary who spent their Presidents Day on the slopes with this little girl, who, I'm told, can't put her arms down.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Appropriate Quote From The Usual Suspects

Well, you’ve probably figured it out... I’m shutting down the Royal Toybox. I’ll keep my old stuff up to remind me of a time when I was funny and had the ability to post things on a regular basis.



One Pinal Farting Thought –

I’m just kidding. I’m breaking Scott’s balls. He thinks he can escape, but he’ll soon learn it’s not that easy. Family? Pftht. What about his blogging family? Priorities, Scott. Priorities.

That said, sorry I haven’t blogged in a million years. The semester has started and all my writing time has been devoted to typing things like: res ipsa loquitor; In flagrante delicto; duces tecum; and other latin things that loosely translate to “Dear Professor, wtf? XOXO, Mike”

P.S. – commitment toyboxcellence update: only down one more pound. Which is pretty good, considering in the two weeks since I last checked in, we had a super bowl and a meal with my parents. I should have gained ten.