Friday, February 11, 2005
The Art Of Crank Calling
I’ve had this one on the shelf for awhile.
So I’m at home alone the other night. I'm supposed to meet up with some people at a show, but I decide to bag it because I'm kinda tired. I leave work at a decent hour to maximize the nightly pleasure, and grab some Thai grub and a sixer on the way home to watch the Mariners game in cock-fondling peace. Some of the women who read this may shudder at the thought of a man at the height of happiness, watching baseball, drinking and fondling himself - trust me when I say this: aside from having two hot models ravage you (at the same time, now), it just doesn't get much better than that.
After watching said game (epic walk-off grand salami), downing said sixer, and fondling said cock (did I mention it was MY cock? Hey, I don't go that way and fuck you for thinking it), I'm feeling pretty fucking idiotic whilst cruising the channels. I hit the home-shopping network and pause for awhile during an advertisement for a "stunning" cubic zirconia bracelet. Ahh ... the memories of me and my old college roommate crank calling those fuckers while two-fisting PBRs and anything alcohol-ish. Good times. So, "what the fuck?" I figure...I’m home alone, I'm drunk, got nothing else to do except go to bed.
I pick up the phone. Dial. Prepare Frog Lick, Arkansas accent.
chick: "Home shopping network. What product are you admiring this evening?"
Me: "Hey, I been watching yer program an I seen that there bracelet y'all got on that there screen, an its muh girlfriend Maxine's birthday uh comin soon, an I been thinkin bout gettin her sumpin reeeeeeel fine like that there bracelet!!"
chick: "Are you talking about item #blah, blah, blah, the stunning 3 carat cubic zirconia bracelet with cabochons?"
Me: "Uhm...yeah...I reckon that is THE one. Say, is that there a diamond? cuz my baybee says she wants a diamond, and she gets reeeeeeeel happy when she gets jeeeeeewlreeee!"
chick: "It's 3 carats of sparkling cubic zirconiums set in stainless steel with dangling cabochons."
Me: Uhm... "Pubic merconeeeyum?"
chick: "Cubic zirconium, sir."
Me: Oh. (pause) "But......Is that a diamond?"
chick: "It's a semi-precious gemstone that's created and cut in a laboratory, sir, but just as beautiful as a real diamond."
Me: "Shee peepers! In a lavertorie? You mean like a scrubbin' room?"
chick: "LabORratory sir." (with emphasis even)
Me: "So it's a plastic thing?"
chick: "No sir, it's a synthetic diamond."
Me: "Synthetic?"
chick: "Yes sir." (You can almost see the steam coming out her ears)
Me: Gol durn. "You mean like a robot?"
chick: "Uhm... well... it is a synthetic diamond, sir."
Me: "Does it change into a building, like them transfermer thingamabobs?"
~Click. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz~
Dammit! Oh well, at least I gave her a good story to go home with.
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So I’m at home alone the other night. I'm supposed to meet up with some people at a show, but I decide to bag it because I'm kinda tired. I leave work at a decent hour to maximize the nightly pleasure, and grab some Thai grub and a sixer on the way home to watch the Mariners game in cock-fondling peace. Some of the women who read this may shudder at the thought of a man at the height of happiness, watching baseball, drinking and fondling himself - trust me when I say this: aside from having two hot models ravage you (at the same time, now), it just doesn't get much better than that.
After watching said game (epic walk-off grand salami), downing said sixer, and fondling said cock (did I mention it was MY cock? Hey, I don't go that way and fuck you for thinking it), I'm feeling pretty fucking idiotic whilst cruising the channels. I hit the home-shopping network and pause for awhile during an advertisement for a "stunning" cubic zirconia bracelet. Ahh ... the memories of me and my old college roommate crank calling those fuckers while two-fisting PBRs and anything alcohol-ish. Good times. So, "what the fuck?" I figure...I’m home alone, I'm drunk, got nothing else to do except go to bed.
I pick up the phone. Dial. Prepare Frog Lick, Arkansas accent.
chick: "Home shopping network. What product are you admiring this evening?"
Me: "Hey, I been watching yer program an I seen that there bracelet y'all got on that there screen, an its muh girlfriend Maxine's birthday uh comin soon, an I been thinkin bout gettin her sumpin reeeeeeel fine like that there bracelet!!"
chick: "Are you talking about item #blah, blah, blah, the stunning 3 carat cubic zirconia bracelet with cabochons?"
Me: "Uhm...yeah...I reckon that is THE one. Say, is that there a diamond? cuz my baybee says she wants a diamond, and she gets reeeeeeeel happy when she gets jeeeeeewlreeee!"
chick: "It's 3 carats of sparkling cubic zirconiums set in stainless steel with dangling cabochons."
Me: Uhm... "Pubic merconeeeyum?"
chick: "Cubic zirconium, sir."
Me: Oh. (pause) "But......Is that a diamond?"
chick: "It's a semi-precious gemstone that's created and cut in a laboratory, sir, but just as beautiful as a real diamond."
Me: "Shee peepers! In a lavertorie? You mean like a scrubbin' room?"
chick: "LabORratory sir." (with emphasis even)
Me: "So it's a plastic thing?"
chick: "No sir, it's a synthetic diamond."
Me: "Synthetic?"
chick: "Yes sir." (You can almost see the steam coming out her ears)
Me: Gol durn. "You mean like a robot?"
chick: "Uhm... well... it is a synthetic diamond, sir."
Me: "Does it change into a building, like them transfermer thingamabobs?"
~Click. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz~
Dammit! Oh well, at least I gave her a good story to go home with.
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