That's because in England the quaint little folks thought they needed to use up all their butter and flour before the fasting season.
I'm going to the diner then. I mean, the Lord commands us to eat of the panned cake. Who am I to tell him no?
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Video games.
I know, right? Like I'd really be able to go 40 days without video games. So I think I'll make it no games on Wednesdays or Fridays. Apparently those are "fast days".
So it shouldn't be too difficult. I guess I should do something even *more* difficult. What do you think? If you were me--the guy who has it all--what would YOU give up?
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"Man, that person is a total shart!"
"Shart! I missed the train!"
And the best part? It doesn't actually mean anything! It's a nonsense collection of satisfying consonants to say when you're totally pissed!
At least...I don't THINK it means anything...
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They were really nice, but they're supposed to always appear like they're having the time of their lives. Matt was kind of the jerk of the group while Ann. was probably the most genuinely interested.
The whole thing was rather ridiculous. They set us up in this huuuge cast hall (plaster casts of Greek/Roman figures everywhere) with Greek columns and white walls. The model stand was draped with bright red fabric. Bowls of fruit, vases of fresh flowers...
Yeah. Because that's what it's totally like in real life.
The instructor was a total buffoon--like, she wore cowboy boots and a skirt. To play up the whole "people not wearing clothes" thing, she set us in an Adam and Eve pose. But since she was a loon, she decided to make Adam offering Eve the fruit. Of course, it *looks* like Eve's dropping the fruit in my hand, and I'm all "wtf? Where'd you get that?" but whatever.
"Eve" had never heard of the Today Show" or any of their rather well-known hosts so she totally didn't shave her legs or pits. To make her feel stupid, I told her "The Today Show" is probably the most popular morning show in AMERICA. I still don't think that got through.
But yeah. I think the hosts painted us for maybe ten minutes before they lost interest (Ann excluded--she wanted to keep painting), and of course Eve was moving the entire time--and at the end everyone wanted to know how she could hold such an incredible pose!
Dude. She didn't hold the pose.
But whatever.
Matt came up to us at the break and said, "So do you ever walk around and look at people's paintings and think, 'What the fu**?'"
Eve was polite and dumb and said, "Nooo."
I was honest and said, "Of course I do!"
He also seemed generally annoyed during the set-up process.
Al may as well not have even been there. He didn't really do anything and I think he was the first to want to leave.
The ladies however were really nice. When the cameras were off they were still asking lots of questions and seemed really interested in what could drive a person to do such a weird job.
And in the midst of it all, me and Eve were totally cast aside until the people needed us. The loony instructor totally ignored us until it was time for us to pose, then she acted like we were her own children.
I did manage to throw in a zinger. As soon as we disrobed, the instructor told the four hosts in a wink-wink tone "not to focus on any *particular* *small part* of the figure."
"Or large part, as the case may be."
Yeah. I said that.
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Playing up the whole "nude bodies make people nervous and giggly" thing...The producer is setting us up in a ridiculous Adam and Eve pose. Apple and everything.
So basically, the whole thing really is a joke. I wonder if I should even bother with proper contrapossto.
But they're going to interview me!
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I know I've said it before. And each time I came back for more.
But this time I'm really through.
I've had it with Morebucks.
I've had it with the way they treat those of us foolish enough to order decaf from them.
At the bottom of any Morebucks cup...if there is even one drop of decaf in your coffee...
There's a thick blanket of sludge. And as you go to take that final swig from your cup, you get a glop of coffee-flavored crap in your mouth.
Moral of the story? Morebucks doesn't want you ordering decaf.
It's part of the Morebucks conspiracy.
If they can get you addicted to their waaay over-caffeinated blends, you'll be helpless to drink anything else!
That's why they have the baristos add a scoop of mud to your decaf coffee when you're not looking.
So from now on, I'm sticking to chili.
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They're doing a segment on the artists of the Nya Nya Academie d'Arte and, specifically, the models who pose for them. They are going to select a couple of models to be featured in the segment.
I don't think they selected me. I would have probably heard from the The Day Show by now if they had.
And I'm okay with that. Because in the end, I think it boils down to the fact that...well...to be honest...I don't think they're ready for this jelly. I mean, my body's too bootylicious.
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And here we are. It's February. And it's snuh-HO-WING today. Seriously. I come inside and have a thick dusting on my shoulders. And I've been moisturizing my scalp so I KNOW it ain't me.
So, to WARD off the chill, I stepped into a Morebucks.
The barista asked what I wanted. A whole milk latte. I paid. I walked to the waiting area.
The baristo (the male coffee maker. Is that what they're called?) paid no attention to me. In fact, at one point he ran away from his post. I looked, and lo and behold, there was a drink on the counter. It looked a little big, but then it's not called a tall for nothing.
And since the baristo left...I guess he was done making my drink. Must be mine.
I grabbed it and took a sip.
Nope. That wasn't my whole milk latte. THAT was a grande chai latte.
Holy crap. What do I do? No one was hovering near the coffee stand. Maybe whoever ordered it forgot to get it and left the Morebucks? I mean, I can't just say, "I'm sorry. I thought this drink was mine. Go make another one. SLAVE!"
Desperate, I turn away so no one sees me with the grande chai. I kept sipping on it. I don't know why. I guess I was hoping it would somehow change from a cinnamonny Christmas treat into its much blander older brother.
Suddenly I hear the baristo shout, "tall latte!"
CRAP! What do I do?!
I can't do anything! I'd look like a total fool going up to the counter saying "Oops! I thought this was a tall! And now I see that it's a grande! And I've taken about ten sips and it STILL tastes like a chai latte! Sorry, but you'll have to make another one for whoever it was who ordered your stupid high calorie milk tea! SLAVE!"
So...
I took the latte.
And I slipped the chai back on the counter.
Oh Gawd. I put the partially consumed chai latte with a lid glopped all over in Fork slobber back on the counter.
Hey! Maybe no one would notice that it's already been sipped on!
Wait! No! I can't do that! That's disgusting! It's unchristian! Would *I* want someone doing that to MY frothy beverage?
I feebly tried to make eye contact with the baristo. If he said, "yes?" I'd be *forced* to explain myself. Forced to say, "I'm so sorry. I'm a moron. And for some reason I can't just say, 'Whoops! My bad! Make this man another drink. SLAVE!'"
But he never looked at me.
Suddenly, some guy starts walking up to the coffee stand.
Holy crap. He's coming for the chai latte. How do I tell this man I drank part of his drink and risk pissing him off because I made him late for his big business meeting because of my buffoonery?
Solution: I DON'T.
I grabbed both drinks and fled the Morebucks without looking back. In my mind's ear I heard the baristo shouting, "Stop! Thief!" But it was too late. The Latte Bandit had struck, leaving only tears and steamed milk in his wake.
There was nothing I could do, y'all. I was backed into a corner. All I could do was survive.
Next time it snows I'm getting chili.
If God doesn't kill me first.
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