posted 01-16-2002 00:27            

Years ago, when my current roommate Caine (yes, real name) and I lived in a different house, we had a mutual friend / acquaintance named Dave. Dave was normally pretty jerky / pricky - just ask Jimbo. Anyway, he came over one day, complaining of flu-like symptoms, and just generally feeling bad.

Ever-helpful, Caine dissapeared into his bedroom and came back with a tiny blue tablet that he called 'flu medecine.'

"That looks kind of small." observed Dave.

"You're right, you should probably take two." replied Caine.

Caine dissapeared back into his bedroom and returned with a second tablet. Happy now with a good doseage of meds, Dave swallowed them, then left to go bowling with some friends of his.

We were sitting in the living room later that night when he came back.

"Man, I don't know what's wrong with me, but I have had the shits REALLY bad tonight. I mean, I would wipe my ass, get off the toilet, go bowl my frame, and then run RIGHT back to the bathroom. The whole night."

"Dave, that was correctol I gave you earlier."

"What's correctol?"

But it gets better. Dave asked if he could sleep over on the couch, and like a dummy, Caine agreed. I didn't want Dave power-spewing water out of his ass in the bathroom that connected to my room (And the hallway), waking me up and shit, so I locked my door and the bathroom door. Muhuhahahaha.

I found out the next morning that Dave spent a precious 30 seconds trying to figure out why the closest bathroom door wouldn't open before he bolt-waddled to Caine's room to use his bathroom, almost spilling his guts in his pants in the process.

I love practical jokes.

posted 01-16-2002 06:25            

This does NOT stop Dave from attempting to pick at least one fight. Every. Single. Night. Generally, with somebody who hasn't fucked with him in the slightest. Invariably, with someone who is quite capable of mopping the floor with him - usually, even with one hand (literally) tied behind their back, if necessary.

This is almost as often a girl as a guy who he picks the fight with, incidentally. He did his goddamndest to pick a fight with a rawboned redneck female bartender who weighed a pretty thick 170 or so at Caine's bachelor party. Why the HELL did we stop her? Well, "we" didn't... me personally, I'd've paid for a ringside seat. Caine, you damned enabler...

If it gives you any idea just HOW thoroughly he throws himself into this whole fight-picking process, one night he actually had me seriously contemplating pounding his fucking skull in after I'd had four hits off of a GRAVITY BONG.