Texas Toast

It’s really time for another Texas Toast column? Does anyone still read these? I keep thinking I’ll run out of stupid things to say, but I don’t. Anyway, I’m back from Texas after spending three days there for my daughter’s birthday. As usual, we’re doing quotes.

“Straight cash, homey” – Randy Moss
This isn’t a quote about Randy Moss as much as it is about the website built around that quote about poor jersey choices. You know those Patriots 19-0, Super Bowl champs t-shirts they made before the game and are now off to Africa? Apparently, they don’t do that for politics. I flew out of DC this time and they have the souvenir stuff, a lot of which is centered around the upcoming election. They had a Rudy 08 t-shirt for $2.99. Why anyone would purchase that except as a joke is beyond me. Actually, scratch that, because I’m seriously considering buying one on my way home just for a cheap laugh. $2.99 is a bargain.
Speaking of Rudy, I’ve figured out the sports equivalent of his campaign. It’s as if he had a stud 3 year old horse and decided to not have him race until the Preakness. And then after a poor showing in the Preakness, sending him out to stud. It makes no sense whatsoever. (Hooray, I’ve finally worked a horse racing reference into a TT episode without making fun of Texas.)

“Smokey, you been eating corn?” - Friday
Here’s a piece of advice for all of you: If your child has an important day tomorrow and they’ll need to be dressed up, never allow them to eat Mexican food the night before. Because things could get messy. And no one likes that.

“Oh, my neck, my back, my neck and my back. Oh, I want $150,000, but we can settle out of court right now for twenty bucks.” - Friday
If you didn’t know by now, I am the most injury prone person alive (and yes, that was my second quote from the crackhead from Friday). To further reinforce this fact, I was injured during a game of piñata. Allow me to explain. Being fairly certain I was the only person in the room with a college degree, never mind one in engineering, I was put in charge of setting up the piñata. This would be a challenge since I only had a really long piece of a material that would best be described as hair scrunchy. So I rigged this thing up and it worked. Of course, they didn’t mention before I did this that it would have to be adjustable. So I’m suddenly thrust into the middle of the party with 15 kids bouncing off the walls ready to pound this piñata, so I can adjust the height. Of course, everyone is ready to go, and they’ve already given the baseball bat to a 3 year old who has no control over this Louisville Slugger (it was actually a LS), and is swinging it randomly. And of course, this bat connects directly on the top of my tibula, on the bone, right below my knee, while I’m not looking down, but up at the piñata. . Only the worst place to be hit. So I had a minor bruise on my leg from a game of piñata. I really hate my luck sometimes.

“Now you’re all in big, big trouble.” – Billy Madison
Following the party, we went to the park with the kids. A basketball game broke out, and I was touching a ball for the first time in a year. Despite my injury, I was playing. The teams split up between kids and adults evenly. It started off with me being mildly competitive, but this was ratcheted up once my baby mama’s boyfriend started playing. Now my ethics would not allow me to score in a game involving kids. But that did not stop me from turning into bizzaro Reggie Miller. I did everything but shoot. Rebounds, I’m all over the place. Hitting the open man, doing that (I was getting especially annoyed at the 11 year old who couldn’t complete my hockey assists. C’mon, can’t you keep the ball moving?). Setting back picks on unsuspecting defenders when they’re man was driving, I might have done some of that (but none to little kids). All in all, my team won, Fun Guy proved he sucked at sports, and I proved my point. Do not fuck with vindictive Barney.

“You beer money, I’m all year money.” – Jay-Z
And to further prove a point, we went out to dinner afterwards, and I whipped out the Gold Amex to make douche over there feel worse. Didn’t say anything, but at that point, I didn’t need to. “No, I don’t have any issues with the cost of health insurance. I can afford it for myself and my daughter. Sucks for you. Oh, you only have cash? How I just put it all on my card? Oh, this gold one, it’s nothing. I’m sure you’ll have one someday.” There aren’t many that are as spiteful as me. (Kudos to Hov for making the definite song about what’s balling and what’s not. (Though I’m not balling by any means. Maybe I’m balling in East Texas, but not anywhere else.) “What’s the difference between a 4.0 and a 4.6? Like 30 to 40 grand cocksucker, beat it.” Just classic. You could cut off one of my legs for the ability to truthfully say that to someone.)

“We have both county and western.” – The Blues Brothers
You know what I like about going out to this place for dinner? The only beers they have on tap are Bud Light, Miller Light, and Coors Light. I think the fourth choice was having a mainline directly from the urinal. So when I ordered an exotic beer like Budweiser, I could only get it in a bottle. I’m really looking forward to moving down here. It will add an extra degree of hostility to my episodes.

“If you do move down here, I see you getting a one bedroom apartment, and the sports package on cable. You’ll come home every night, watch tv and drink beers. Actually, it’ll probably be liquor. And you’ll sober up every other weekend or whenever you’re watching her. That’s what I see your life being if you move down here.” – My BM (exact words)
In addition to that dynamite advice on babies and Mexican food, I’ll give you this as well: Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, do anything with a woman who’s studying to be or already is a psychologist. They will know things about your life you didn’t even know. Unless you’re a genius like my brother J-Man avoid them at all costs.

“They see me rollin’, they hating, patrolling, and tryna catch me ridin’ dirty.” – Chamillionaire
That quote right there made my spell check hate life. Anyway, on my way to the airport to go home, I stop off and get me a 200 of Jack, to ward off the inevitable depression that starts to sink in when I realize I’m about to not see my daughter for a month or two. I plan on drinking about half of it on the way to the airport, which is only like 2 drinks or so, so I’ll be fine. I take my first sip and am driving about 85 with the speed limit being 70. Don’t you know it, but the 5-0 pull me over. Paranoid that they’ll smell alcohol on my breath (Don’t worry, I put the open container in my backpack which I kept in the front seat just in case this happened. Hooray contingency plans for dumb decisions.), I quickly drink the remainder of my coffee. I handle everything well, and end up just getting a speeding ticket (fuckin’ PoPo). I even got a, “Thank you for your courtesy,” from Mr. Texas’s Finest. So combine that with my trespassing on the beach charge, and I think I have a bigger criminal record than half the rappers in the game. So I have that going for me at least.
Being that I’m a highly intelligent person, I take the bottle back out 5 miles down the road, to “calm my nerves.” (At least that’s how I justified it to my alcohol craving mind.) And what do I do then? Drop the cap behind the seat where I can’t find it. Do I make a sound decision and pull over at the next exit, find the cap and not drink again until I get to the airport? Of course not. I merely leave the open container in the paper bag its in, and put it in between my legs to keep it upright. Seriously, don’t do this at home. I’m a seasoned professional alcoholic.

“And besides, motor oil would have nothing to do with this accident.” – Tommy Boy
In a final blast of my bad luck, the plane going home was delayed while they did some minor mechanical work before departure. This is pretty normal. What isn’t is the truck brought in to do this work breaking down right behind the airplane. So the airplane was good to go, but couldn’t move anywhere with a 5 ton truck sitting right behind its wing. I felt like standing up and apologizing to the entire plane for this being my fault.

“Say what you want about Mike. Mike black, but Mike rich.” – Michael Irvin
Michael Irvin now has a radio show on in Dallas. And it pretty much met every expectation I had in the 15 minutes I caught on Monday. They were talking about Roger Clemens’ wife taking HGH and Mike was against it. Not because of the health issues but because when he’s, “Feeling a woman’s stomach, I don’t want to feel no muscles.” He then proceeded to give us other details. The other host kept saying he’d be for it as long as it was under a doctor’s supervision. He said this numerous times. When they came back from commercial, Michael insisted he never said anything about a doctor. Cocaine’s a hell of a drug. So yeah, it was an entertaining show from the Playmaker.

And on that note, I’ll wrap this up. Don’t want anyone else thinking I’m a role model or something.