« Thoughts on “America’s Next Top Model” | Home | Oh, liver. »
Dr. Voltron’s Day of Reckoning
By briantologist | June 26, 2003
This evening marks the descent of nearly everybody I know into several days of extremely heavy drinking; if this is the last time I post, I won’t be that surprised. For Saturday marks the technical legal union of my longtime homey Dr. Voltron and his patient lady, Shaniqua. They’ve been going out/living together for six years, and I give them props for not caving to the constant squawks of “SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, when are YOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUU guys gonna get married?” they’ve undoubtedly been hearing for five and a half of those six years.
My other longtime homey G-Money is also coming into town from LA, with his lady LaVonne, thus shoring up the likelihood of prolonged drunkenness. G-Money and Dr. Voltron are stepbrothers; their parents got married when G and Dr. V. were in the seventh or eighth grade and (for some reason) bitter rivals; this culminated in G signing Dr. V. up for a Playboy subscription, hoping to get him in trouble with the parents. It kind of backfired, as the parents were fine with it as long as Dr. V. paid his bill on time. This eventually led to one of those giant gift popcorn cans crammed with Playboys featuring total B-list early ’90s celebrities (“This month: We revisit fave centerfold Erika Eleniak for a fourth time this year”) being passed around for years among the lot of us, eventually finding a home in the walk-in closet at the home of our friend Garrett, who gets no code name because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a shit. Apparently he’d beat off in the same corner each time, and there was some kind of horrible mass on the carpet when he moved out. I’d prefer not to think about that anymore, if it’s all the same to you.
So that happened. Anyway. It’ll be a swell wedding, and will mark the first time I’ve been the Best Man for anybody. If you know of any good toasts, feel free to send them my way. No more dirty limericks, please; I’ve already got the one I’m gonna use picked out. And if you see my liver standing on the side of the road holding a sign that says, “MEXICO — WILL SHARE GAS,” please pull over and bring him home. He’s bluffing anyway — he’s flat broke, and trust me, you don’t wanna take the trade he’s offering.
Topics: good times., Tales of Drink | Comments Off
Comments are closed.