And just for the record...

My "problem" -- THE problem with my life... is that I spend too much time dilly-dallying in the things that my friends enjoy, and not enough pummeling them in the things that *I* enjoy.

Pinner and I played about a dozen games of NFL2K3 while he was up last month, and he won twice. Both times I was attempting to be the consummate host and not talk an endless stream of shit to him while we played.

I lost because I wasn't giving him a constant monologue of abuse.

The moral is that when it comes to my life, shutting up and remaining quiet isn't going to get me JACK SPARROW SHIT and I will never, ever, ever do it again.

"It's good to play together" -- Xbox advertising campaigh

"It's good to flush some goddamn RAM" -- B. "P." P.

pinback wrote:Ga, who read every damn word I wrote about his place, and the waitresses, and Larry, and Sara, and every other damn idiotic thing I wrote about in Ferndale, CA.

Ga, who started spreading everything he could remember to everyone who would listen.

Min-ga!!!

Ga, who therefore forced Larry's hand into laying down his love for Sara the other night before she read about it online.

People need to spend less time worrying about the love lives of others and more time spreading a little bit of love around themselves.

Also, your message becomes even more wicked offensive if you move some of the sentences around.

And then bang his girlfriend three times while he was away at work the following morning.

For nine holes, we're talking here.

I hate you, Benjamin "Pinback" Parrish.

pinback wrote:Respond to this thread in the next 20 minutes, or I will never visit this website again.

Sup?

I'm as serious as a Z-out route in NFL 2003 for the Playstation 2, which people seem to always know is coming, but still can't stop me from beating them with it twice at a game which they proclaimed when I walked in the door, "Oh, you'd have as good a chance of beating me at that as beating my high score at my cocktail Crystal Castles game," which I then proceeded to do the following day,

You had to FLUSH MY RAM in order to do it, you whimpering beastie.

Yes! Yes that's right... What kind of a guy goes to his buddy's house and then deletes his high scores out of his Crystal Castles while he's at work? And then goes and grabs the top three spots for himself when there are no scores there?

...After also making time to beat the same man at real-life golf for nine holes by the score of 46 to 108.

That's only because I kept every last shot on the scorecard. Because I am FUNDAMENTALLY HONEST to a FAULT.

I AM CHAAAAMMMMP!!!

I would like to see some animated GIFs.

I'm so sorry we couldn't be there when you wanted us to. I'm sorry you gave us 20 minutes to prove our undying love for you, when, if you had been around, you would have seen alot of people devoting alot more than 20 minutes to worrying the fuck about you. You're dead to me, Parrish.

Aw, I just got here. I'm having my 'TEXAS HOLD 'EM' shirt being made right now. Does that mean nothing?

Well, alright then. It's been 20 minutes. That means, I'm outta here.

Forever.

Somebody email me when Jonsey's game is done.

EDIT: BEST OF JC!!!!!!!

Respond to this thread in the next 20 minutes, or I will never visit this website again.

Ever.

I'm as serious as a Z-out route in NFL 2003 for the Playstation 2, which people seem to always know is coming, but still can't stop me from beating them with it twice at a game which they proclaimed when I walked in the door, "Oh, you'd have as good a chance of beating me at that as beating my high score at my cocktail Crystal Castles game," which I then proceeded to do the following day, after also making time to beat the same man at real-life golf for nine holes by the score of 46 to 108. For nine holes, we're talking here. And then bang his girlfriend three times while he was away at work the following morning.

But perhaps I've said too much.

So, this thread is to announce the re-launch of http://www.sonowthen.net. Please enjoy it, won't you!

But before you enjoy that, or the gentle caress of your own lubricant-laden right hands, please listen to this story, which as of an hour ago is, and which for at least the next three hours will be, the funniest thing ever.

It's all about a line cook at Curley's. A line cook I like to call, "Ga". I call him that (and pronounce it "Guh") because that is what I was told his name was. A rather large, imposing-looking gentleman, perennially decked out in a mumu-sized T-shirt and a tie-dyed bandana, imparting to all who would gaze through the kitchen pass-through to his frightening visage: "I AM GUH. URRRG."

Ga. Ga the line cook.

Ga, the guy who, in his off-hours, did a little web-search for reviews of Curley's restaurant.

Ga, the guy who just happened to, in the course of that web-search, land on a little website I like to call, "So Now Then Point Net".

Ga, who read every damn word I wrote about his place, and the waitresses, and Larry, and Sara, and every other damn idiotic thing I wrote about in Ferndale, CA.

Ga, who started spreading everything he could remember to everyone who would listen.

Ga, who therefore forced Larry's hand into laying down his love for Sara the other night before she read about it online.

Sara, who then responded to Larry, "Oh, I'm honored!"

Larry, who then called me up and asked me to, if just for the time being, make a few slight changes to my website over there.

He then pointed out this wacky little parallel with his own website: He wrote too much about himself and his life, and he ended up getting FUCKED IN THE ASS for it. And here I am, writing too much about myself and my own life, and HE ENDED UP GETTING FUCKED IN THE ASS FOR IT!!

For my money, long lost friends, that is, for the foreseeable future:

The Funniest Thing Ever.

Oh, also, I'm not dead. But that's neither the funniest thing ever, nor mildly interesting to anyone, so go on about your business, then.