Xanga: 1

28 Feb

Due to boredom, I explored my old Xanga webpage, circa 2004. i found an entry I thought worth posting. Haha.

Hola, folks. What’s a-goin on-ah? I just returned home from my trip to Minnesota with the McDermott clan. It was a fun time, I must say. Their entire family is a riot. Myrna is absolutely insane, like totally off her rocker, although after the voyage to the north I think I learned to appreciate her “quirks,” if that’s what you can call them. Ohh Myrna.

Aside from the fact that I lost nearly two quarts of my blood to mosquitoes, thus acquiring the West Nile virus and also developing paranoia due to feverish scratching (p.s. I drew blood today while scratching my bug bites), it was a pretty good time. I’m not kidding–Minnesota’s state bird is the mosquito. I killed a mosquito the size of a Volkswagen in Sam’s bathroom one night. The ol’ “squish it with a tissue” maneuver wasn’t working so swimmingly unfortunately. I had to bust out a shot gun and duck behind the toilet to knock it off balance before I could drive my tank over it and crush it like a bug. No pun intended. Seriously, right now I’m sitting here scratching my epidermis off. I have bug bites on my legs, my arms, there’s one on my eyelid, in my scalp, one on my FOREHEAD (don’t know how I missed THAT one)–I have bug bites in places on my body I didn’t even know I had. I’ll get over it. Or I’ll die first, whichever.

So we’re driving to Duluth (wow I have so many stories, I don’t even know where to begin), and it’s a long car ride. A very long car ride. I pitch the idea to play the alphabet game with Katie and her parental units. They’re a weird family, so everyone joins in. We get stuck at N.

Myrna goes, “Well….if you see any black people eating watermelon, you can say—” hahaha.

Oh Myrna, so inappropriate. Then we get to Y. Katie goes, “….Okay…so we either need to find a yacht…or a yak.” It was funny if you were present, shut it.

Next: X. Impossible. I’m like, “YES, find an Xterra!! You know, the vehicle.” Katie goes, “…alright…an Xterra or a xylophone; whichever comes first…” hahaha.

Anyway, we get to Duluth, and hit up the shopping center. It’s not really a shopping center…it’s actually like the Old Market, but more Minnesotan. On with the show: Katie and I are strolling about when my flip flop breaks. It’s something I cannot fix, and I can’t make it stay on my foot no matter what I do. I had to find either new flip flops, or something to fix them with for the time being. We go into this shop called “The Last Place On Earth.” I’m figuring “the last place on earth” will have shoes, or at least duct tape or a staple gun. We enter the store, assuming it’s like an antique shop with paintings and weird pottery. I scan the place, and all I see are knives, swords, sex toys, bongs, and pipes. Wow. That is ALL the store sold. Hence the name.

After looking around, I state outloud, “Wow, everything in this store is against my religion.” Then a guy that works there, who by the way was wearing combat boots, a spiked collar, and had yellow bleached hair in pig tails, goes, “Well….if it makes you feel less awkward, everything in this store is a PART of my religion..?” hahah. Real different. Anyway, he supplied me with packing tape, which I wrapped around my sandal like a tourniquette as best I could until I could reach a store selling flip flops. That’s the end.

NEXT up in Duluth: We’re driving back to the ho-tel when we stop at a red light. Next to us is a bench for a bus stop or something. There is a homeless African American sitting on the bench with like 15 grocery sacks filled with homeless guy shiv. Then Katie goes, “Wow….that is a fake black man!” Of course everyone laughs at her in a mocking manner until we take a closer look and discover, yes, this man is in fact a phony black man. He had WHITE hands, and they were young looking, a brown circle painted on his face so you could see his white neck and ears, and then a hat with FAKE black hair attached to it. What the heck was this guy doing? Unless he was an under-cover cop (who by the way should suggest getting a better makeup artist, I mean my god), there is absolutely no good reason to pretend to be black when you are white. We’ve all seen Malibu’s Most Wanted, am I right?? Anyway, I did the polite thing, and yelled, “YOU’RE A FAKE BLACK MAN!!” out the window before we drove off at the green light. Maybe I made him question what he was doing. Maybe not. Maybe it’s Maybelline.




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