“I am a little worried about the wild pigs because I am goddamn delicious.”
That is an actual sentence I spoke on the 4th of July. Randy and I spent a week with our mountain friends where it rained every single day and felt perfect.
Oddly enough, this isn’t the first conversation we’ve had which involved the possibility of me getting eaten. In fact, we have never, even once, visited where the topic of me getting eaten isn’t discussed.
But I’ll tell you more about that in a minute. First, the box.
I almost couldn’t make the headline because I still measure time in before I knew about two girls, one cup and after knowing about two girls, one cup. I really wish I had the innocence I had when I was 44 years old and blissfully unaware of how disturbing the internet can be.
Get one job with a bunch of tech guys the same age as your young adult children and count on being scarred by the information they gleefully share with you.
But I digress.
Four people, one box isn’t quite accurate. It should be 5 people, one box. Then, I decided this was a sort of 3 Musketeers situation. You know, there were 3 musketeers, but D’Artagnan was kind of the 4th musketeer. Only, instead of 4 people we had 5.
Worst word problem ever: If D’Artagnan is in the mountains and watches a disturbing video on the internet about girls pooping in a cup while dodging wild pigs, then how many potatoes will it take for the sky to be plaid?
Mountain Girl had a friend stay with her for a few weeks. I would call her D’Artagnan, but in this scenario, I think Mountain Girl, the Bass Player and Mountain Girl’s friend would be Athos, Aramis and Porthos and Randy and I would both be D’Artagnan. So, instead, since I’ve only ever almost met her, I will call Mountain Girl’s friend Maris, after Niles Crane’s wife on Frasier. The math was just getting too difficult to continue the 3 Musketeer scenario.
Anyway, Mountain Girl had this little pine box and a set of oil based markers in different colors. While Maris visited, she decorated the cover of the box. Mountain Girl and the Base Player decorated underneath the box. Maris left a note for me inside the box along with the markers inviting me to continue the decorations.
I worked on two sides and then decided that the 4 of us should finish. I got a little compulsive and didn’t want any pine showing anywhere on the box. I needed help. Randy and I sat in Mountain Girl and the Bass Player’s studio and passed markers around, each adding our own touch to the box.
While we worked on the box, we played a new game. Bad Youtube Ball.
We play a lot of games that end in “ball”. Gong ball. Word ball. Youtube ball.
Bad Youtube ball means taking turns coming up with the worst song we can think of while drinking. We colored, drank, and tortured each other with wretched songs. It’s actually more fun than you would think.
Randy kept track of our bad songs. I don’t want to keep all the greatness to myself, so enjoy! At least one of these songs will make you want to stick an ice pick in your ear.
Paralyzed by Lonesome Stardust Cowboy
Ride Em Cowboy by Juice Newton
Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda by Alan Sherman
Teddy Bear By Red Sovine
They’re Coming To Take Me Away Ha Ha by Napoleon 14th
Run Joey Run By David Geddes
Honey by Bobby Goldsboro
A Man and a Woman By Francis Lai
Wheel In The Sky by Journey
Blind Man’s Penis by John Trubee
Timothy by The Buoys
Afternoon Delight by Starland Vocal Band
Bonanza theme song
Look At Them Beans by Johnny Cash
I was the clear winner at Bad Youtube Ball with the song Timothy. Although, that Johnny Cash song is terrible. That was one of Mountain Girl’s picks. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Johnny Cash. But that song sucks ass. I also dominated at Gong Ball and am the current Gong Ball champion of the world. This is after being the abysmal loser for years.
Okay, so I said I’d get back to getting eaten by wild pigs.
Mountain Girl had seen a herd of wild pigs right next to their house recently. It’s a decent walk from their house to our cabin and I did not want to get eaten by pigs.
We had our car at the house, but we had consumed copious amounts and backing up was not a wise move. It’s the mountains. The peaks aren’t scary in that situation, but the valleys could be deadly. The Bass Player offered to help us out.
Bass Player: I can drive your car up if you want.
Me: I dunno. You’re pretty drunk. What’s the more likely scenario? I get eaten by pigs or you wreck our car?
Bass Player: Oh, me wrecking your car is way more likely.
Me: Yeah, we’ll just walk.
We made it the whole week without being accosted by wild pigs. One night a bug flew in my mouth, though.
Oh, and the answer to the word problem is 42. It takes 42 potatoes to turn the sky plaid. The answer is always 42, you know that.
One more thing. And I am being completely serious here. If you don’t know about two girls, one cup, DO NOT GOOGLE IT. You don’t want to see it. You don’t want to know about it. Trust me. If you do not heed my advice, I don’t want to hear any complaints. You’ve been warned.
I lied, there is still one more tiny thing. I mentioned a few posts ago that I got Randy tickets to see Elvis Costello for his birthday. We saw the show last Tuesday in this horrible swampy heat and it was goddamn amazing.