The week's ending. You need shit to do. Well, fear not. For I have compiled a list of worthy activities, media and/or ingestible chemicals to help you entertain yourself.
Sit Through Rain Delay At Nationals Stadium: I went to a Nationals game last night with this jackass. There were two separate rain delays. Normally, you'd assume rain delays are fucking terrible. Not so, my friend. Not so. Thanks to the rain, I got to hang out around the stadium bar and get even drunker than usual. AND I now had a built-in excuse with the wife for staying out later into the evening. ("What can I do, honey? RAIN IS GOD'S WILL.") Plus I got to watch the torrents of rain pound down on the tarp in front of me, and on the Anacostia River behind me. FUCK AND YES. I would argue that watching a thunderstorm is significantly more entertaining than watching actual baseball. There was lightning, too. It looked totally badass. When the rain ended and I had to go watch baseball again, I was crushed.
Beer Gardens: There is nothing outside of Nationals Stadium. Every development that was supposed to be built around the area has been suspended indefinitely. So when you walk from the Metro to the gate, there's nothing surrounding you except for giant wooden construction area walls with huge banners advertising all the cool shit that's supposed to be there but isn't. So that sucked. Ah, but then there was The Bullpen, a giant outdoor beer garden where you can pay $5 for a tall boy bottle and lounge around sitting on picnic tables. I enjoy any large outdoor space that is reserved exclusively for group drinking. It's the one fun idea Germans have ever had.
"Return to NOD," by High on Fire: METAL! Special thanks to the handful of readers that endorsed High on Fire. I like any metal band that produces excellent riffage AND commissions some kickass cover art. That demon's got a bag of skulls with him. THAT MEANS HE'S NOT TO BE FUCKED WITH.
The Surprise Twist Ending To Orphan: (Spoiler in the link) I believe my friend KOGOD had the best reaction to this: "Well now I don't feel so bad about masturbating to that trailer."
Negotiate The Very Small Hole At The Bottom Of A Sugar Cone. You order an ice cream cone. You go with the sugar cone. Ideally, a good ice cream joint gives you your cone wrapped with one of those cone-shaped paper ice cream drip prophylactics that work so well. But if they don't, you're gonna get a Chinese water torture drip of pistachio running through your hand and down the side of your wrist. Then you gotta tilt to cone to lick your arm, which in turn creates the dreaded drippage over one side of the cone. This is why I go with the cake cone every time out. You get that flat bottom with the cake cone (which technically does not make it a cone), which means you even set the cone down if you like. NICE. FIX YO DRIP, SUGAR CONE!
We were kissing and stuff and then I went down like I was going to go down on him and he's uncut just fyi, and hairy, but the worst part was the…the SMELL. It was like he hadn't showered in days, and that's just not polite to let a girl go down on you when YOU KNOW you didn't take a shower and he's uncut! So I look up at him, you know I pause, and he looks down at me with that smile he does on the show, sort of like "Suck it up".
And then the girl went ahead and blew him anyway! Lady, you had a perfect opportunity to dispense a pristine cockpunch to this raging douchebrella. Instead, you blew it! Literally! I've never been so disappointed in womankind.