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Tuesday, September 25, 2012

 
I was stoked to see my friend last night while watching the Packer game. I hadn't seen this friend in years and haven't really spent any time with her since that time we went to the Less Than Jake show that was possibly ten years ago. This is the friend that I got the idea to be half-Canadian/Half-American from because she's just that.Dual citizenship, 100% good shit. she left early to help her drunk boyfriend get home and things got interesting after she left. This girl and her friend sat at my table with my bro and I. I was initially worried about this because I wasn't looking forward to the inevitable "Why did this happen?" or the "What's a down?" that I dealt with with that girl who came to hockey games for years and sat with the Rowdy Crowd and only in the third year of going to games finally asked what offsides and icing were. It's one thing to have to explain that offside is when an offensive player crosses the blue line(see the big blue line there? Hockey people are uncreative, so they call that the blue line) before the puck and icing is when the puck crosses two red lines without being touched. It's another thing to have to explain that every game for two months. It's not that hard to understand. But this girl who sat at my table surprised me, fielding questions her friends asked about what happens when a team doesn't punt on fourth down and doesn't make it the arbitrary ten yards to the first down.Did I mention this girl looked like television's Maurice Moss? Intrigued, I eavesdropped on her friends' conversation as best I could. Something about a Halloween party and how they should dress as Freddy Mercury and sing songs. "But you know I'm already going as Maurice Moss!" I about shat a purple creme filled brick. This person knows football, has friends who appreciate Freddy Mercury's falsetto and knows who Moss is? Dear god! Panic sets in. Do I want to be friends with these people? Absolutely, but I don't want to explain my stroke arm and I don't want to explain how far below my means I'm living to get my hospital bills paid off very shortly and I don't want to explain how I'm a freelance contractor, which means I'm largely unemployed except when they need someone to fix shit because someone fucked up but they only want me as a contractor because they like firing people because Bitch Romney and his wife Egg are their gods. No, I don't want to explain these things especially after I heard them bring up the subject of when they're going to the cottage next. I don't think I hang out with the right people because my friends have never said the word cottage unless it's followed by the word cheese and they never ask when we're next going there.

And all day I've thought about this person who looked like Moss's sister because she seemed like my kind of weird and I'm wondering is this a person that could have been a good friend? I don't make friends easily, I miss my friend Brent a lot. I'm glad he's doing extremely well in Alaska but it'd be cool to see him again or hear from him more than "Hey Tommy, send me some cheese. The stuff they have here is expensive and terrible."


said Tommy T. at 7:39 PM - #
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