Scott, author of Life is Grand, Love is Real and Beauty is Everywhere!, recently posted about how he has crushes on his Blogger friends and how he dreams of one day packing it up and going on a road trip to meet each gal. I thought about how this may be a good idea. Actually meeting the men and women behind the writings, seeing the differences, if any, between the person they are and person I envision.
Then I started imagining how the road trip might go. Would I enjoy meeting these people? Would they enjoy hanging with me? Would they even care for the Wiwille in person? After said meeting would my blog be deleted from their list never to be seen again?
Here's how I imagine my road trip if I were to meet the Blogger buddies:
First up I would pack the car and head up north to Vancouver to meet the infamous Rawbean. Both being fans of sushi we would meet at her favorite place to eat some rolls. Conversation would start off with our jobs and would run the gamut of other personal information we decide to withhold from our blogs. I entertain her with some stories and noting to myself to never bring up politics. We later decide to meet her friends for drinks.
Her friends are nice girls; however being the only guy there I look like the gay friend. A redneck approaches me and starts harassing me. I get into his face and accept his challenge when all of a sudden a sword comes piercing through his chest. The blade is swiftly removed and the guy drops to his knees revealing Rawbean standing behind him holding a bloody katana. She cries that we must leave and we pile into her car. She then explains to me that the work she claims to do is a front and she's secretly an assassin who works for the Canadian government. She then breaks down and says she's going to have to kill me now cause I know too much. She strikes at me with a knife directly at my chest, which I block, but not before it meets my shoulder. I dive out of the car and run like hell all the while clutching my wound.
I enter a hospital and have my wound treated, but the staff gets pissed when they find out that I'm an American and charge me $26,000 for the medical care.
I finally make it out of Vancouver and drive for a few days with my next destination being Ontario. After multiple stops viewing the Candian wilderness I finally meet Big Ben. Immediately after I pull up to his place he leaps in my car and says "don't ask questions just drive."
I obey his command and he navigates me through the city of Toronto. We finally pull into a strip club and he reveals this is his favorite place for burgers. We enter the establishment and I order a mushroom burger. Enjoying the nekkidness surrounding me Big Ben launches into why baseball is the greatest sport ever. Having a big mouth I explain that baseball is not a real sport and he in turn doesn't take it well. The large Canadian makes a dash for the DJ booth and uppercuts the DJ. He grabs the mike and screams "See that scruffy guy over there. He doesn't like baseball. Get him girls."
The strippers stop their routine and stare at me. Big Ben puts in 'Crazy Bitch' on the sound system and upon hearing that the girls start brandishing whatever's not bolted to the floor and chase me out of the club. The whole time they're screaming "Big Ben is our lord".
I jump into my car and peel out of the place. I decide that I need some mellow time and WhatI'veGotSoFar seems like a reasonable chap. I head over to his place and we sit and chat for a while. I tell him I work with computers and he starts throwing technical jargon at me. We then discuss music and various pop culture items till finally he puts his finger on his ear. He excuses himself and walks over to his stereo.
"Autobots transform," he states with authority. His sound system grows legs, walks out of the place and into the street and turns itself into a motorcycle. WhatI'veGotSoFar then rips off his clothing to reveal an all black outfit and throws on a matrix like trench coat. He then explains he has to go and darts off on his motorcycle.
Perplexed I drive on to meet Grace, but she was nowhere to be found.
All I want now is a quite evening flowing with alcohol. I meet Scott at a bar and find him to be a nice fellow. We discuss music, literature, and blogging, but then he starts talking about his dating life. I then notice twins sitting next to us who look like Anne Hathaway. They seem to be eyeballing Scott and I invite them to sit with us.
Scott appears nervous, but keeps his cool as they flirt with him. Finally one of the twins announces that I need to go as they're only interested in him.
"That's fine," I say as I stand up and throw in some money for the bill.
"Nah," says Scott. "You should stay."
"Meh," I say. "Gotta girlfriend so it's best I leave."
I make my way out of the bar with ego in tow, but I man up and get back into my car leaving Scott fulfilling the fantasies of millions of men. At least the meeting didn't end too weird.
I then head south back to the USA to Kentucky to meet Jinsane. I arrive and she greets me warmly. I find her southern charm appealing as we walk to a local bar. We arrive at her local watering hole and we talk about ourselves. Surprisingly she's just like the person she makes herself out to be on her blog.
More men arrive to meet her and she introduces me to all of them. More and more arrive and I ask why so many are showing up. She failed to mention that she was having a suedo blogger convention and it timed perfectly with my arrival. The bar starts overflowing with Half Naked Thursday fans and everyone is desperate to get the attention of Jinsane.
As one would imagine the place then erupts into a barroom brawl. Men are throwing punches at the first person they see. I fight my way out of the place and find Jinsane crying.
"I never expected this to happen," she said.
"Well men are pretty primal," I state. Exhausted I couldn't come up with anything better to say.
We part ways as we hear sirens and I then drive to the Lone Star state of Texas. I meet up with Alyssa and TracieLacy for drinks at a local saloon. We have fun sharing crazy stories while I consume various amounts of alcohol. Some large smelly gent then taps me on the shoulder.
"Dep deer da ding dang do," he said in eloquent gibberish.
"Huh?," was my only reply.
"Der dat dang deer do do," he stated.
"He's asking if you want to play pool," says Alyssa.
"You can understand that?" I reply.
"Yeah," she says. "He says he needs a partner."
I turn to the guy and decline his request. He looks at TraiceLacy and Alyssa.
"Deh duh deer do da da dang," he says to them and walks off. The girls start laughing.
"What?" I say.
"He said if this sissy yank is giving us trouble to let him know," TracieLacy says while busting into hysterics.
"Motherfucker," I say loud enough for him to hear me.
"Settle down," says TracieLacy. "That guy's crazy for us."
"Yeah," says Alyssa. "He's had a crush on us since grade school. It's best to let him be. He just got out of jail for beating a cop with a Volkswagen."
"Shit," I say. "Tough guy."
"Yeah," says TracieLacy. "He's just jealous."
In walks Alyssa's nemesis, the guy she calls Boobman. He walks up to our table and introduces himself. I say hi, but notice his gaze never leaves the girls chests. For some reason he thought it would be a great idea to whip out his manhood on the table and snicker.
"Take a look at....AWWWWWHHHH....," he cries. I look down and notice that Alyssa nonchalantly has smashed a glass on his member.
Boobman then falls on the floor in agony. The girls take it as their cue to leave and we make our exit. I thank them for an enjoyable day as I enter back into my car and head to the airport.
I fly 'across the pond' to meet Claire. Claire meets me at a local pub (sensing a theme here?) and we discuss the finer points of eating fried food. She then challenges me to a drinking contest and I accept. My masculinity is called into question as she's kicking my ass, downing stouts as if they're water. Crowds form and cheer her impressive drinking style.
I pass out and awake the next morning shirtless with all sorts of obscene terms written all over me. The owner of the pub hands me a mirror and interprets the slang.
I'm on my flight back to Seattle pondering the strangeness of the trip. Why was there so much violence? You would think with all the alcohol there would be better nudity than me being shirtless? Will Scott post about his twin experience?
Sharp pain hits my chest as a blade exits my rib cage. The sword then disappears and I turn and see Rawbean winking at me. An air marshall points a gun at her head and she quickly disarms and decapitates him. In a flash she darts for the emergency door, flings it open, gives me a smile, and then parachutes out.
The plane is descending at a rapid pace and I'm clutching my body trying to hold in the blood. I fall to the floor in agony while being bombarded by blood curdling screams. As my life starts to fade my last thought is "shit I can't post about this."
Yeah it's best I just stay home.
Whew that was long. Thanks for reading all of this nonsense.
"I'm not sure blogs are necessarily the best place to get a pulse on anything. People want to blog for a variety of reasons, and that may or may not be representative." - Steve Ballmer