A Short Story For My Cousin on His Birthday (Which He Ignored)

Hi friends! No, I’m not dead (at least not physically). For those who have read my blog before, sorry I haven’t posted anything in a year. I promise to finish the Kim Kardassian posts soon. For those of you who are unfamiliar to my bullshit, welcome! Thank you for wasting your time with me.

I assume you’re happy to be here as well.

So, the reason I called you all here is because the worst thing that could ever happen to a person happened to me a few weeks ago: I wrote an excellent Happy Birthday post on my cousin’s Facebook page and he ignored me.

I know. I was mortified too.

Here’s what happened- last month, I was with my immediate family when my sister pointed out that it was our cousin’s (whom, for purposes of this blog, we shall call Joey Jojo Shabadoo) Birthday. But since I was with family, I chose to wait until later to wish Joey Jojo a happy Birthday. And then I forgot. I’ll be the first to admit that that part was on me. And I felt bad that I missed it, so I decided to write a story for him as an apology/ a birthday gift, because who doesn’t love being forced read things shortly after their birthday?

So, I wrote him the story, a story that centuries from now will be hailed as the greatest literary triumph of our time, and posted it to his page a mere two days late. Two! And he didn’t even “like” it, the monster.

So that’s why I’m posting it here today, because someone needs to read it. And if it won’t be the intended recipient, it will be strangers on the Internet.

Enjoy!

Happy Belated Birthday Joey Jojo! I’m so sorry I missed your birthday Sunday, but I have a really good reason! See, it was midday on Sunday, and I was sitting outside at one of the hundreds of French bistros that litter Columbus Ohio, eating a croissant and drinking a latte that Columbus is known worldwide for, when I checked my phone and saw that it was your birthday. “I must think of something profound to write my cousin on this day,” I thought to myself, “he only deserves the best.”

I closed my eyes, just for a moment, to concentrate on the perfect musing to send your way. As I concentrated, a sentence formed in my mind. It shown like a golden beacon of enlightenment amongst an impenetrable night of mindless well wishes. I had found my profound wish to you.

But when I opened my eyes again, my phone was gone! Snatched! Pilfered!

“Son of a wrench… bojangles… Smith!” I thought to myself. “Sweet Virgin mother of dirty fucks!” I shouted because that’s far more coherent than what I thought. I turned to my fellow diners and asked if they saw the phone thief. They all babbled unintelligible nonsense, but all pointed the same direction: towards a weaselly looking man running towards the river. I gave chase, and almost immediately toppled over some weird guy in a beret.

“Sacre bleu!” The human obstacle cried.

“Lousy gibberish! I yelled back.

I continued my chase through the scenic beauty of Columbus Ohio until phone thief and I reached the Scioto river, or as the locals call it, the Seine.

By mistake, the villain ran onto a bridge that was closed halfway across due to construction. I had him trapped.

“Give me back my phone, fuck stick,” I ordered.

The weaselly man gave me a weaselly smile, and without a word, dove over the railing. I ran to where he jumped off and looked over the edge. And wouldn’t you know it, that phone thief landed right on one of the used Kleenex barges that traverse the river every hour. The man waved goodbye to me and laughed a weaselly laugh as he passed the Eiffel Tower.

Wait. Eiffel Tower? Of course! I wasn’t in Columbus at all- I was in Paris! Normally, finding yourself in Paris is a bad thing, but it just so happened that I have a friend who lives in Paris that has helped me in many similar situations before. I needed Draxyl.

Draxyl was one tough customer with a pale face with small, black triangles tattooed above and below his eyes. Beyond his intimidating exterior, Draxyl was a man of few words and many actions; and he isn’t like that just because he’s a mime.

No one ever suspects the mime. But you should.

I found Draxyl on his normal street corner, performing a mime show for a group of tourists. As soon as he saw me amongst the gawkers in the crowd, he collapsed to the ground and began faking a heart attack. Many of the tourists groaned in disappointment and shuffled away. See, most tourists don’t realize that mimes are actually people, so when one dies, they move onto the next one. Draxyl uses this ignorance to his advantage.

Once the crowd had dispersed, Draxyl stood up, brushed himself off, and gestured for me to follow him.

He lead me, as we walked against the wind, to his hideout, which was an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the city.

He opened the door for me, and as soon as I entered, I was greeted by the thick, musty air and a thin young man with tan skin babbling at me.

“Minigan welcome. We’ve been expecting you,” the young man said to me in a Brooklyn accent , “I am Vinny Tyrese Archibald Patrick Saiid Makoto Borowitz-Gutierrez, but you can call me ‘#TheMouth.’

“Uh, hey,” I replied, “why were you expecting me?”

“Because we knew you were coming,” two voices answered in unison from behind me.

I turned to see a pair of identical twins, dressed in the same out fit and identical haircuts on their blond heads, staring past me.

“We are the Sagittarius Twins,” they said in unison again.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, “but why Sagittarius? Shouldn’t you call yourselves the Gemini Twins?”

“No,” they said together, “because our last name isn’t Gemini.”

“Fair enough.”

“The Sagittarius Twins are our experts in the mystic arts. They melded their minds about three years ago, and now they are one being in two different bodies,” #TheMouth explained. “We have one more teammate for you to meet,” he continued, “once she decides to make her entrance…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” a seductive Russian voice said from the shadows.

From those shadows emerged a stunning woman with jet black hair and hips that swung from side to side with every step she took in her black leather catsuit.

With a seductive smile, she stepped in close to me and breathed, “Hello, Minigan, I am Svetlana Lustnaughtlov, and I am-how do you say- charmed to meet you.”

“Well, Svetlana,” I replied with a smile, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” Then, putting my hands on her shoulders, I added, “Now, if you would please step the fuck off, you’re crowding me.”

I pushed her by her shoulders three full fucking steps backwards. Her smile melted into a look of shock and rejection. Fucking Russians, man.

“So, Minigan,” #TheMouth said, “we knew that you were coming, but not why. So, what brings you here looking for our help?”

“Someone stole my phone!” I cried.

The team began to gasp, but then exchanged puzzles looks.

“You can get a new phone. You don’t need us for that.”

“You don’t understand,” I pleaded, “today is my cousin’s birthday, and I need to wish him a happy birthday. He is such an amazing, such an opulent specimen of humanity that he makes makes all other humans, but especially my siblings, look like sweaty garbage. ” I then explained the words of wisdom I wanted to share with you. Their jaws dropped. The air became less musty. The Sagittarius Twins shed identical tears.

Draxyl looked at me with awe and said, “Minigan, you slick son of a-“

“Ok we’ll do it!” #The Mouth interrupted, “I’ll get on my computer and track your phone number. Svetlana, I want you to use your spy connections to find out why someone would take Minigan’s phone. The Twins, I need you to search through Minigan’s memories for any clues.

It took twelve hours. Twelve. Fucking. Hours. Before anyone was able to find anything. And the entire time, #TheMouth talked at me about mundane bullshit that wasn’t about where my phone was. Apparently, my phone was stolen in a worldwide, coordinated attempt to use a app to gain control over the world’s volcanos.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” I said to this group of idiots wasting my time.

“It’s true, Darling,” Svetlana replied, “My sources told me that an American’s phone is the key to taking control of the volcanoes. I believe that it’s your phone.”

“What? Why my phone?”

The five of them shrugged.

“Great,” I sigh, “well, what are we going to do now? It’s already passed midnight here, which means that it’s 6:00 in the evening back in the States. I only have 6 hours left to get my phone back.”

“And save the world!” #TheMouth added.

“Meh, let’s get my phone first, then we can worry about the world.”

“Alrighty then,” #TheMouth replied, “Let’s get a move on then. We need to get to Mount Vesuvius in Italy. That’s where the chain reaction is supposed to start.”

Great. First it ruins Pompeii, and then it’s central to a nefarious plot to steal my phone. Ugh. This mountain is the worst.

Draxyl lead us to the chopper, and within minutes, we were darting across the Parisian night sky on our way to Italy.

At some point during the trip I fell asleep, and when I awoke, the morning sun was already peaking over the horizon and #TheMouth was still taking about whatever the fuck he was talking about before we left. Shit. I asked for the time. It was 7:15. Double shit. I missed your birthday by an hour and a half. But I knew I could recover from that, as long as I could deliver the musing to you soon.

“We’re getting close!” #TheMouth yelled, “I can see Naples now.

“What’s our plan once we get there, Mouth?” I asked.

“Huh?” He replied, “That’s not my nickname.”

“Sorry. #TheMouth.”

He gave me a weird look. “Hey, you’re pronouncing the first part of my name all wrong. You need to say it like someone who isn’t a millennial.”

I was about to respond when an explosion rocked the cabin of the helicopter. Alarms went off. Svetlana and I screamed. She tried to grab onto me, but I swatted her away.

“We’ve been hit!” #TheMouth yelled from his seat up front, “We’re going down!”

A couple enemy helicopters flew past us, then turned to face us head on.

“Sagittarius Twins,” #TheMouth yelled, “Do something to stop them!”

The Sagittarius Twins stood up from their seats, and pressed their hands against the window. Suddenly, the cabin shook again, and I watched as a Great white shark flew past us and towards our attackers. In no time at all, the shark had destroyed the helicopters and vanished into nothing.

We all cheered.

“Great job you two!” I said to the Twins.

Draxyl called back from the pilot’s seat, “Minigan, you slick son of a-“

The cabin door exploded open, and the resulting pressure drop pulled one of the twins out of the cabin. The remaining one fell to the floor, thrashed and shrieked for a few seconds before laying comatose on the floor.

We were still going down- barreling straight towards The side of Mount Vesuvius. Reaching as far as I could, I grabbed the remaining Sagittarius Twin and pulled him close to me. We hit the ground on an angle, and we all lurched forward until the mangled remains of the fuselage came to a stop.

I got up from my seat, my head pounding and my legs weak, and rushed to the twin, who had slipped from my grasp when we hit ground.

“Other Sagittarius Twin, are you ok?” I asked as I shook him.

He didn’t respond.

“I think this one is Scorpio,” #TheMouth replied.

I looked at him, “really? Scorpio Sagittarius?”

“Yep. The other one was named Taurus.”

“I don’t know their parents, but I already hate them,” I spat.

#TheMouth scolded me, “Don’t day that! Both their parents died last year!”

“That is terrible!” Svetlana cried as she wrapped her arms around me, making

sure to place one hand on my chest.

I slapped her away. “What the fuck did I tell you? Stay out of my personal space!” Then, looking to #TheMouth, I asked, “How did they die?”

“Cancer.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Deafening pangs of metal against metal shook us from our conversation and

brought us back to the task at hand.

#TheMouth said, “Minigan, go with Svetlana and Draxyl and get to the peak of Vesuvius. I’ll stay here and tend to Scorpio.”

Draxyl handed me a gun with a wink, and then kicked open the still intact door and started firing. He then grabbed onto an invisible rope and pulled himself out of the mangled helicopter. Svetlana and I followed.

Shots rang out from all around us as we sprinted for cover and fired at any enemy we saw.

When we made it part way up the mountain, the gunfire stopped and everything was still. The three of us took a sigh of relief and lowered our rifles. Draxyl strode ahead of us and then stopped abruptly. He put his hands out in front of them, and they hit an invisible barrier. He spun around, annoyed, opened his mouth to say something. But before he could say anything or even take a step, he hit another invisible wall. Svetlana and I ran to him. He pounded on the walls of the invisible box he was trapped in. Screaming things that couldn’t reach our ears.

“Look!” Svetlana yelled as she pointed to a nearby boulder, “An axe!”

She was right. Sitting against the boulder was a gleaming axe. She ran for it and brought it back to us.

“I’ll get you out of there, Draxyl!” She screamed as she swung the blade at the prison.

The axe passed through the invisible barrier and missed Draxyl by a fraction of an inch. He jumped back and screamed something we couldn’t hear. He pointed to the ground. There was nothing there. He made a chopping motion and then pointed to the same spot. I shrugged to Svetlana and reached to where he was pointing. Then, my hand touched something where there was nothing. I grabbed ahold of what felt like a handle, and moved my hand up to find a head. It was an axe.

I spun back to Draxyl and raised the invisible axe above my head and swung down. There was a crack and then a shatter. Draxyl tumbled out of the broken box.

“Minigan,” he gasped, “You slick son of a-“

“Thank me later,” I said, pulling him to his feet, “let’s just get my phone and stop this volcano thing or whatever.”

We reached the top of Vesuvius within a half an hour and without further altercations. The crater atop Vesuvius was deserted. We looked over the side. Down, deep in the crater we could see the glow of the magma, smell the stench from the sulfur, and feel the heat hitting our faces.

Just as we were about to step back from the precipice, three sets of arms grabbed ahold of us and dragged away.

“Well, well, well, it looks like we found our intruders,” a man with a British accent and an eyepatch said to us. “You must be the famous Mercenary Draxyl Gruntmuffin. Then this must be your sexy assassin Svetlana Lustnaughtlov.” The man looked to me and gave me a cruel grin. “I take it that you are the owner of this phone.”

Belligerent Crumblebrunch! I should have known!

He waved my phone at me. I tried to lunge for it, but the goon holding me was too strong. The man laughed.

“It is perfect that you came here, because it turns out that I need you to open the app that starts the chain reaction.”

“I never downloaded any app that controls volcanoes, idiot. You got the wrong guy.”

The man smiled and replied in a calm tone, “but let me ask. If you had downloaded the app, would you tell me you did?”

“Well, no.”

The man’s smirk grew.

“Ok,” I conceded, “Give me the phone and I’ll open whatever app you want.”

The goon let me go, and Eyepatch handed me the phone. I let out a sigh of relief feeling my phone back in my hands. And then, I kicked the goon that was holding me in the stomach and ran off. The goon stumbled backwards and fell screaming into the crater.

“GET HIM!”

I sprinted to the other side of the mountain, looking through the apps to find the one they were looking for. Hidden deep on the third apps page was “Volcano King 2000!” I opened it. Suddenly, the earth shook around me. J looked up and found myself on the other side of the crater from Eyepatch and his goons.

“HE OPENED THE APP. GET THE PHONE FROM HIM!”

The ground rumbled again, and the crater in front of me grew. The earth crumbled beneath the goons feet, and the two of them tumbled in. Then, Draxyl picked up the invisible axe and swung it at Eyepatch’s face. He dodged the attack, only to get kicked into the fiery hole by Svetlana.

I jumped and cheered for the team. And then I felt the ground give way below my feet. I dove away from the hole, but it wasn’t enough, and I was just able to grab onto the ledge with my free hand.

Svetlana was the first to reach me.

“Give me the the phone,” she ordered.

“Pull me up!” I yelled back.

“No. You refused my advances all this time. Give me your phone. I shall be the one controlling the world’s volcanoes.”

“Ok first of all, I rejected your advances because you kept getting in my space.”

“And what’s second?” She asked.

“This,” said a voice from behind her.

Svetlana rose into the air on her own, and then soared down into the magma pool, screaming until she was submerged.”

Gross… that she always insisted on invading my personal space.

“Scorpio!” I cried as he pulled me out of the hole, “You saved me!”

“I am not Scorpio.”

“Taurus!?”

“No. Taurus managed to assimilate three others before he died. We are now the

Sagittarius Quadruplets now.”

“Oh ok,” I replied, “That’s not alarming at all.”

I deleted the app off my phone, and once I did, I could feel the Earth go calm.

Draxyl walked up to me and clapped his hand on my back. “Minigan, you slick son of a-“

“Draxyl, take me home.” I interrupted, “I have a birthday apology to write.

And that (plus the fact that this totally real explanation of totally real events took me a day to write) is why my birthday greeting is so late. And I would share with you the profound musing I came up with, but in all the excitement, I totally forgot what it was. Sorry, and I hope your birthday was amazing.

See? That totally deserved a response, and not just a measly Facebook like. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the story more than my ungrateful cousin. And together, maybe we can shame him into reading it and basking in its glory.

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The American Douchebag’s Guide to Europe: France

Well, this is embarassing. I’ve been home for over a month, and I am just now getting my second post up. Damn. But in my own defense, I have been busy rewriting my last 3 Awesomesquad! Assemble! blogs into a short story and also writing a letter of “go fuck yourself” to a former friend, so I’ve been a tad bit busy lately. I apologize. But enough of that gay stuff, here is my latest blog post!

The American Douchebag’s Guide to Europe: France

Ooh la la!

Overview

The area that people know of as “France” was originally settled by Romans during the expansion of the Roman Empire as a place where they could be free to eat stinky cheese, be snooty, and surrender to the Germans all they want. It is important to note that Germany was not an actual country until around 1814, so they had a good millennium or so of a head start. During that time, they were pretty badass: They built a massive palace and garden for the royal family at Versailles, they fought in all kinds of wars with England and Spain, they conquered most of the new world (which they would later sell to us, which was smart of them, because we we’re just going to take it from them anyway), and towards the end of 18th century, the cut off a fuck ton of heads in the name of democracy and tore down a prison with their bare hands. However, in the 100 Years’ War, they were sucking so hard that they needed a 19 year old girl to whip their asses into shape.  Today, the French are known around the world as “Those stuck up bastards with the weird hats and crepes.” To me, they appear to be the cultural enemy of the good ole U.S.OF.A. in that they are liberal, (The believe in that weird voodoo called “evolution” and they think gays deserve rights) while still maintaining a strong sense of nationalism. Hey, ever wonder why they think of themselves as too good for English? Well that’s because they think that if you’re in their country, you should know their language. Does that sound familiar, America?

Initial Thoughts

My first steps in France were not in Paris, but on the coast. We took a ferry from Dover across the English Channel. When my group stepped off of the ferry, we were met with a desolate wasteland. There was nothing but empty streets, empty parking lots, and empty buildings everywhere.  Due to my training in this field, I instantly assumed that a zombie outbreak occurred. In a flash, I had found a steel pipe and was proceeding to swing it frantically at anyone who got too close. Well, a few wings of that pipe and a couple of tranquilizer darts later, I was drooling on the bus and on my way to gay Paris. (On an unrelated note, “gay Paris” sounds much more offensive when it is not spoken with the French accent.)

Accommodations

In all honesty, the accommodations were pretty disappointing. I mean, our hotel wasn’t bad: It had a pretty decent breakfast,  it had a nice courtyard that we could sit (and get trashed) in, and even though the rooms weren’t as nice as the 5 star hotel in London, they weren’t half bad. But, and this is a huge but. I mean, like a Oprah Winfrey sized “but”. BUT when we went to the Palace of Versailles they would not let me sleep on any of the beds. NOT ONE! I even told them that it was OK since I am American and that they owed us since we saved their cheese eating asses in both World Wars, but they still wouldn’t let me. I was completely offended. I mean, sure I was jumping on the bed with my shoes on when they caught me, and yes, I do have a tendency to piss on things to mark my territory, but it was still my God given Amurican right to sleep in whatever palace I pee on. They’re just lucky I didn’t spit in their mouths and make them thank me for showing them what freedom tastes like.

Food

Well, In Paris I mostly ate brie and baguettes, so I have to say they don’t have a huge selection of food. I did have some crème brulee, which was much better than I expected.  I didn’t get to try escargot, but I did try it last time I was in Paris, and I have to say, once you get past the thought of “Hey, I’m eating snails right now,” they’re actually pretty good too. Those are the only 4 foods that French people eat. Talk to my Eurofriends to find out how the fast food chain, QuickBurger, is. I heard it was amazing.

Alcohol

Three words and one 1 hyphen: Cheap-ass wine. Seriously, you can buy a good bottle of red wine for about €4 (about $6.50). I shit thee not. But you need to be careful when buying wine; my roommate picked out wasn’t wine but grape juice. The people I was drinking with only noticed how smooth and good tasting it was. I was the one who thought, “Hey, something isn’t right here.” I looked at the bottle and wouldn’t you know it, it has “sans alchool” right on the bottle.

Needless to say, we were a stupid, stupid group of college graduates.

People

This one is a bit of a mixed bag. Of course, going in, you are just going to assume that every Frenchie that you meet is going to be a pretentious, scarf wearing cock. To my surprise, I did not see any of these French people. I did however watch as what I assume was a Parisian child spit off of a bridge and into a crowd of Japanese tourists on my Seine River boat cruise. I assume the child was French because he was, like, 10 and all alone in Paris, which he seemed to be comfortable with. Also, who doesn’t love to spit on tourists (when you’re not one of them.) Then, there was this one girl at a club in the redlight district that totally snubbed me when I tried to dance with her. In her defense, I didn’t speak any French other than what Andy (my tour guide) taught us, she didn’t speak any English, and I did try to start a conversation with her twice. Looking back, I was mad creepy to that girl.

I did meet a few nice people in Paris, but mostly because I was buying something from them.  A man in the subway station sold me a ticket for the train for only a Euro  ($1.50) when they were actually more than that. And he was nice enough to neither scam me, or demand fellatio from me.  that’s right, I bought something from some random guy in the subway station and not only did the ticket work (I went through the wrong entrance, but it still worked), but I was also not mouth raped. We Americans could learn so much from these French philanthropists… these Phrenchanthropists. Also, when some of my group and I were wandering  through the streets of Paris, scrounging for food, the man at the restaurant that we stopped at was incredibly friendly (even nicer than the nicest I have been treated by American fast food employees) despite the fact that I was blatantly attacking his native language with my uncivilized tongue.

Overall Atmosphere

Romantic. At least it looked that way. I bet if I was in love and I was there, I would be caught up in the beauty of everything, but since I wasn’t in love when I was there, I was just caught up in the Architecture, the history, and the locations of famous pop culture scenes. You know, like Inception:

This is the cafe from Inception. Yes, I was disappointed too.

And The Da Vinci Code:

No one was murdered there when I was there. What a jip.

And, well, that is all that I can think of right now.

I know of a certain lazy eyed hunch back who feels left out and forgotten.

But all that aside, Paris and Versailles is beautiful. And there’s so much to do that you need much longer than what I had (three days) to see everything. I am absolutely going back, if only to see their statue of liberty. I didn’t get to see it up close and , needless to say, that pissed me off so bad that I threw a mime into the river.

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