Question: when I say “bingo” what comes to mind? Old people, right? Of course they do. You think of the phosphorescent lights that cast a dim gloomy light over the 20 or so seniors who stare blankly at their bingo cards as they struggle to hold on to the brief moments of lucidity that, much like their remaining family members, come less and less as their last few years slip by. You can’t help but think of their dead eyes that never move, and the slow rattling breaths they take, completely oblivious to the ever present smell of death mixed oh so delicately with that unique fragrance that accompanies complete and utter hopelessness. It’s a smell that fills every nook and cranny of the macabre zoos that are “retirement” homes.
But I’d be willing to bet that you don’t picture a winding maze of slot machines where the air hangs thick with smoke from cheap cigarettes and everyone’s eyes twinkle with the madness that desperation creates. Well apparently, neither does the Alabama Supreme Court.
Sometime last year, (I don’t really care enough to look it up) the ASC changed their stance on what constitutes illegal bingo (the ASC has very strict opinions on games as can be seen in the 1967 ruling in the landmark case Smith v Johnson that established the legal concept of “No Tag Backsies”) which caused a chain reaction that lead to the proverbial “measuring contest” going on now between Gov. Riley and VictoryLand owner: Milton McGregor.
As mind-blowingly asinine as the actual issues are, (and I’ll get more in depth with those later on) right now I’d like to focus on the ASC’s attempt to define bingo. Since I wasn’t actually there, I don’t know for sure just how this issue first came up in their discussion, (or how any issue comes up for that matter. Is there like a secret slot in a door or something? Do they have that oracle chick from 300?) but I like to imagine that it went something like this:
Four robed figures sit around a long lacquered table made of oak….or maybe maple. I’m not really sure. At the head of the table sits-cedar? No, cedar is darker than that. Sorry, sorry. At the head of the table sits a man who looks like he’s in his fifties but it’s hard to tell because he’s wearing big dark aviators and sporting a two day beard that’s flecked with grey. His mane of dark hair is swept back, revealing a tanned and creased forehead. With one hand he swirls the remains of a bloody marry in a scotch glass, and, reaches under his glasses to rubs his eyes with the other. He pushes the aviators onto his forehead revealing blood shot eyes that wearily sweep the room. He takes a deep breath and says in a slow, deliberate voice:
Justice 1: Ok. Just so were clear, everyone agrees that under NO circumstances can a person legally marry a figment of their, or anyone else’s imagination. Right?
Justice 2: And were including ga-
Justice 1: OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YES HIGGINS. WE’RE INCLUDING GAY MARRIAGES!!! What is it with you dude? EVERY. FREAKING. TIME. Just leave it alone.
Justice 3, a middle-aged woman with shoulder length curly brown hair who sits with a quizzical look on her face and glazed over eyes, says to no one in particular:
Justice 3: Why is this an issue again?
Justice 2 (Higgins): -Ignores justice 3, and points at Justice 1- Now you listen to me Wilson! Gay Imaginary Marriage is destroying-
Justices1, 3, &4 simultaneously: The fabric of the American family!
Justices 1, 3, &4 glare at Higgins
Justice Higgins: Fine then. As long as were clear.
Justice Wilson:-shakes his head in disgusted disbelief- Ok, well, since Johnsons’ still faking his own death and Richardson is still trippin balls from all that bad acid Enrique sold us, - he looks over at a tangled mass of black robes in the corner- hows it goin over there Dan? You tried to peel your face like an orange yet?
Justice Richardson:-stares blankly into space with wild eyes and whispers hoarsely- Nobody move, the unicorn cant read our thoughts if he cant see us. DON’T LOOK HIM IN THE EYES!!!
Justice Wilson: Hang in there buddy. Ok so, all those in fav- no, you know what? I don’t even care. There is no possible way any of you botards could object to this. Let just sign the damn thing and move on. - He signs the bill and passes it around the table to be signed by the others
Justice Richardson: CATH THE GREMLIN!!!! HE’LL GRANT US WISHES IF WE EAT HIS FEET!! Justice Richardson then proceeds to run around the room giggling uncontrollably, bent over with his arms outstretched in an attempt to catch what one can only assume is a magical gremlin.
Justice Wilson eyes the empty bloody marry in his hand and in a fluid motion flips his sunglasses down, turns, and walks toward the bar in the back of the room.
Justice Wilson: Alright then. So how much time have we killed?
Justice Wilson reaches for the bloody marry mix
Justice 3: Its only 10:30 a.m., so……an hour and a half
Justice Wilson’s hand hovers in front of the bottle of bloody marry mix for a few seconds until his head droops and he reaches for the Everclear, and proceeds to fills his glass to the top
Justice Higgins: So, what’s next?
Justice Wilson: - shuts his eyes tight and whispers over and over- Please be important or in some small way meaningful. Please be important or in some small way meaningful….
Justice 4: -Eyes papers and flips through a few until saying: uhh… apparently we have to decide if BINGO should be legal.
Justice Wilson spins suddenly to face his “colleagues” and throws his glass against the wall and with vodka flying from his mouth, screams:
Justice Wilson: OH COME ON!!!
TO BE CONTINUED….
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
For The Gentlemen
For The Gentlemen
Gentlemen, let me start of by getting something out of the way: boobies. There. It’s been said and it’s on the table. Just take a moment and chuckle quietly to yourself. Done? Good. Now, on to business; if you’re like me, then there are times throughout your day when your mind just wanders off without telling you where he's going, much like an A.D.D five year old at six flags. During these carefree romps through the trash filled walkways of an overrated amusement park that are littered with cigarettes and empty dip'n dots cups that is the male consciousness, it happens upon things so wild and unimaginable, that no one besides another man would ever understand or appreciate it.
For instance: "If women are such good fashion designers, and gay men are such good fashion designers, then why aren't lesbians some type of super designer?" Now some people say that the two factors cancel each other out, but I disagree. However, that’s a rabbit I'll chase another day. My main focus in this note is that of the morning pee. The male morning pee is as predictable as the sunrise, as ever present as gravity, and as necessary as a meth lab is to a trailer park (If you live in a trailer park and are offended by the last comment, don't be. It’s there; you just aren't tweaking hard enough to sense it). But it’s not just the morning constitution itself that has me so intrigued, it’s that every two or three months you will take a pee so long, that after you finish, you immediately regret not timing it.
This is one of those rare things that are both reminiscent of why life is worth living, and soul crushingly depressing. "But how could I have known that that was gonna be a urination of Olympic* proportions?" you tearfully ask the shower curtain. But the shower curtain in its stoic passivity doesn't answer. "ANSWER ME!" you scream at the towel rack, but something as wise as the towel rack knows when to hold its tongue.
So, lost in the solemn silence of your bathroom at six in the morning as you cry yourself back to sleep on the mat in front of the toilet, completely oblivious to the fact that yesterday you gravely miscalculated you starting trajectory and totally soaked that mat, you find the answer: pickles. Its' not a very informative or helpful answer, but its' an answer nonetheless. And so, as you uncurl from the fetal position and climb in to the shower, you are consoled by the one thought that your still groggy mind can manage to entertain: "The towel rack saw it, he can back me up."
*a little known fact about the Grecian Olympics is that on top of wrestling and running, other events included the 100 meter pee, the long pee, and curling.
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