So, I lucked out and got I'm Not Benny to write a guest post. If you haven't ever read him, let me give you the lowdown.
If you're a single girl, he's the kind of guy you want to date. He's funny, smart, witty, and has an amazing outlook on life.
If you're a married woman, you want him to be in your close circle of friends. Maybe you set him up with your best single friend, just so you'll see him around, hear his stories, and laugh at his random wit on all subjects.
If you're a man, you're down with the INB. He's the kind of guy you want with you if you just happen to find yourself in a third world country, and you speak not a hint of jibberish. He won't speak the language either, but somehow, he will figure out how to make things work. While you are freaking out, he'll tell you stories that will make you laugh. He'll figure out how you guys will get beers that don't give you the explosive d. If that hasn't won you over completely yet, he also has a little pin of Ronald McDonald jamming on the guitar. Whether he's the guy you now want to date, or be best friends with, I give you the pimp-tastic, half Joel McHale, half MacGuyver, I'm Not Benny.
Sally was nice enough to ask me to guest post for her today, so if you're wondering whether or not she went crazy and is just posting gibberish now, I just thought I'd let you all know that this is not the case.
Okay then.
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So I was sitting at the park reading the other day, and this guy walks in from the street, and he's got a bum leg so he's limping , and he has an eye that is slightly larger than the other one, and this is no big deal, but he's staring right at me and slowly walking directly towards where I'm sitting. So I look back down at my book, and back up, and the guy's limping closer and closer, and just before he actually walks into my table, he turns a little and walks past.
So I look at him cause he's still staring at me and I say "How's it going?" and he says "Yes, you too" and then I say nothing because I am confused by his lack of proper verbal exchange skills.
Then he sits down at the table right next to me and stares at me for a while, and I try to ignore him and begin to wonder if he has a basement full of heads at home. Then he gets up and slowly walks off, except that the entire time he's walking out of the park, he is belching impressively loud, over and over.
So that happened.
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I have two dogs: Fat Pogo and Blind Shana.
Fat Pogo sucks on his rawhide roll-ups until they are soft, because he is a pansy and does not chew like normal dogs. He just sits there for a half hour stretch at a time, looks at nothing, and holds his rawhide roll-up in his mouth like a cigar.
It makes him look like a furry Winston Churchill.
Blind Shana bumps into shit a lot. When she hears me walk by, she jumps up on her two hind legs and waits for me to catch her. Today, I wasn't paying attention, and when she jumped up I didn't do anything, so she kind of got all bug-eyed and fell over backwards, but really slow-motion like, and fell on top of Fat Pogo, who freaked out.
This made me laugh uncontrollably for a long time.
Then I did not feel bad about laughing at all.
The End.
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Live Update:
I just saw a really overweight guy with no shirt on and a crap-load of tattoos driving down my street on one of those old people scooters, but weaving back and forth and laughing the whole time until he was out of sight.
I probably won't see anything to top that for the rest of the day.
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I recently found a "marshmallow candy with raspberry filling" wrapper in my dryer. I have never eaten this particular kind of candy in my entire thirty-five years of existence. I have decided that since this is true, one of the following things must be fact:
1) illegal immigrants are squatting in my dryer. They have a preference for the flavors of marshmallow and raspberry. This obviously means that they are from the Hamgyong-bukto province of North Korea. That is absolutely accurate. I have a system.
2) My dryer eats kick-ass candy.
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Reason why I like watching MSNBC in the mornings, part 456:
Newsguy Joe: So we have a little taped recording of the phone call you made to us last weekend while on your vacation, Mika!
Mika: "uh....."
Mika's phone message: "....slurry words, slurry words.......and I'm wearing a Pat Buchanan t-shirt and...that's it!"
Mika: "........"
Joe: "Ha ha, you have to remember to stay off the phone from now on when you're on the pharmaceuticals!
---uncomfortable silence---
---Mika looks pretty pissed that Joe called her a drug addict on the MSNBC morning show---
Joe: "....uh, hahaha....uh, yep Benadryl and phone calls don't mix! hahaha...."
Mika: "...haha.."
Joe: "..ha...."
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