Weekend Musings

Let me start this weekend’s musings by saying that I watched the Price is Right on Friday night and Drew Carey couldn’t hold Bob Barker’s jock. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt because he had one of the greatest lines ever (“So you hate your job? They have a support group for that. It’s called everybody and they meet every week at the bar.”), but he needs to step his game up. That Plinko game isn’t going to play itself.

My big idea this weekend involves the tax rebate check that people should be getting in June or something to help stimulate the economy. Because this is basically free money, The Barney Show is proposing The Pacman Jones Tax Rebate Extravaganza. Basically, it involves converting your entire tax rebate to singles and going to a strip club. I’ve even justified this economically. The best way to stimulate the economy (Don’t get me started on the fact that their giving out money when the government is already running a deficit. I didn’t make this decision, so I need to make the best of it) in my opinion (Please feel free to disregard everyone else’s, including those so called “economists”) is to buy high end goods. $600 is not enough for one person to splurge, so my theory is to combine this money from a group and give it to a single individual, namely one who takes their clothes off for you. Strippers don’t seem like the type to put this money into an IRA, so I think this will go right back into the economy. Either that or towards drugs, and you know dope boys will buy high end merchandise. You’ve heard of Trickle Down economics, this is Titty Down economics, courtesy of Professor Barney. So not only will you be helping the economy, this is also the best chance to pretend your Pacman Jones or Darius Miles (who was seen this week making it rain in Portland. Dennis Dixon, the Oregon QB was in his entourage. I need a rehab schedule like that) without feeling guilty because you really didn’t do anything for this money. I’ll be pushing this more as the tax rebate comes closer, but I’m just putting the seeds in your mind.

Pretty tame weekend by my standards (If you count “tame” as having 5 Jameson’s, 3 Jack’s, 2 Henn Rocks and 2 Guinness in a night. I do.). I spent a good hour today going to different bookstores to see if any of them carry New York Magazine, since my girl Lindsay gets naked in it. Unfortunately, they do not carry that down here in the dirty. It wasn’t all negative though. I picked up Hoop magazine, that was doing a story on the Warriors. Not only does it focus on Baron Davis, Stephen Jackson and Matt Barnes, it has a poster of all three of them. And it could possibly be the greatest poster of all time. It has the three of them and says, “Warriors, come out and play” in the same font as in the movie (which I coincidentally bought this weekend for $6 at Circuit City.) So I have a new poster to go on my wall. And if you’re wondering if it’s a little juvenile that a 25 year old can be this excited about an NBA poster, fuck you. Luckily for me, I think any female that comes back to my place will be so turned off by the whiskey bottles strewn across the room, they’ll be out the door before they even notice the poster.

MVP of this weekend goes to J-Man. With the Duke lacrosse team back in the news, I was able to drop this nugget on people. “My brother went to high school with one of the players who was accused. My brother shoved him down a flight of stairs because he was such a giant douche. My brother could cure cancer and I’m not sure I’d be more proud of him.” People looked at me with either amazement or like they usually do, like I’m a complete moron. But there was some amazement, so I’m on the right track. The bar I was at on Saturday had The James Joyce Room. I texted J-Man to let him know I was there and that it didn’t seem right without him (J-Man reads Joyce for shits and giggles). He texted me back with an awesome Joyce fact that I was able to work into conversation. So J-Man gets a shout out for giving me stuff to talk to people about that doesn’t involve football, basketball or alcohol. Thanks buddy.

A final note before I wrap this up (about 400 words too late) is that I missed some things in my last Texas Toast. I wrote that thing about the basketball game with the sole purpose of saying I played like a bizzaro Reggie Miller (no shooting whatsoever, but rebounding, passing and setting picks) and then I forgot to include it. I also forgot to include the fact that my daughter was crying like crazy in the car until I put on American Dreaming by Hov and she calmed right down. That made me happy. Until next week, keep your heads up and your standards down.